The particle physics of bait-fly fishing

As fly fishers we talk a lot about 'matching the hatch' as we try offer fly patterns to our quarry similar to the food items the fish happen to be feeding on.

But what if our target fish are coarse species that have become accustomed to the various particle baits (maggots, hemp, pellets etc) that get thrown at them at commercial fisheries and club venues across the land? 

I thought it would be fun to fashion some Calliphora larva flies (that's 'maggot' to you and I ) to match the hatch and target some of the fish swimming in these waters.   

holy trinity

Discovering a lovely little low-key commercial fishery on my doorstep offering a nicely balanced coarse lake, I hatched a plan to tackle the water with my fly rod. Knowing that the only large carp the lake contains are of the 'grass' variety the venue is ignored by the bivvy and buzzer brigade but holds an interesting variety of other species including crucian carp, perch, ide, roach, tench and chub. Wouldn't it be fun to turn up and see how many of these could be captured with fly tackle during my visit? For me the holy trinity for my fly rod would be to land an ide, crucian and the seemingly 'impossible' tench all in one session.  

tactical thinking - working the margins

At the end of the average session at your local commercial fishery it's not unusual for left- over bait to be thrown into the water margins, particularly perishable baits like maggots. Fish, especially  bottom feeders like tench and carp  soon get wise and cruise the margins hoovering up these free offerings after the anglers have gone home. My thinking was to arrive early and hunt the margins looking for tell tale feeding bubbles and cast to these areas. If I found feeding fish I would 'hold' them in location by spraying in a few handfuls of real maggots around my fly. 

my approach for deep feeders 

My rig for the crucian and tench was very simple. The size 14 Calliphora would go on the end of a level 6ft length of 6lb fluoro as point fly. A floating foam beetle would serve as an early indicator of subtle takes and also allow the leader to hang nearer to the vertical. This would improve bite detection as a sagging line takes longer to transmit any movement to the fly line. To avoid tangles the beetle was not tied as a dropper but instead attached direct to the leader with a blood knot, the super-long tag end then having the point fly tied on. The length from point to sight fly was 5ft and then a further 1ft to the 3 weight floating fly line. This reflected the water depth at this location. 

A dust shot was pinched on to the tippet 3 inches behind the point fly to help it get down quickly through the small silver fish and to aid presentation: the line could be tweaked occasionally to make the maggot fly waft about near the lake bed to get noticed by feeding tench and crucians.

mission impossible
I arrived early and found myself alone at the lake. I circled the water and found an attractive spot that had clearly been fished frequently judging by the polished ground of the bank side. A small weed free channel ran parallel to the bank 10ft out or so and tench feeding bubbles were fizzing away like champagne in the early sunshine. A few handfuls of live maggots were thrown along the channel to hold the fish and get them feeding with confidence. Then my fly was cast. Takes when they came were very subtle and easily missed, registering as a slight skating of the foam beetle across the surface film, as the tench sucked in then blew out the fly. Eventually though a fish stuck and a lovely little 'impossible' tench came to hand, followed quickly by another with a third shedding the hook on the way to the net. 
 

crazy crucians
'Crazy' because all bait fishermen know that trying to hit bites from these finnicky feeders can drive a man insane. But buoyed up with confidence from my early success with tench, I reasoned that the factors making this swim attractive to tench would also prove so for this most beautiful of carp species. So I continued to loose feed live maggots in the hope that the crucian would put in an appearance. My confidence grew as I witnessed some tiny bubbles that could just be betraying the presence of this dainty feeder. I cast to them as softly as I could and held my breath. Sensitivity in bite detection is essential to catching crucian carp and here I felt my fly rig really scored and sure enough, after holding my breath until I felt dizzy, the line slid away a few inches and paused then slid away some more. (I had learned with the tench that a strip set was better than trying to lift into the fish and if the take was missed the fly could be left in the hope of a second chance.) So after a brisk strip set I found myself connected to a stunning, scale-perfect bar of crucian gold.  

the ides have it
By this time some gatecrashers had arrived, attracted by the bait I had been spraying out. A number of ide had moved in, making aggressive slashing rushes at the maggots as they hit the surface. I removed the shot from my tippet and changed the point fly to a double maggot version (much slower sinking as the rubber grubs are slightly buoyant).  Before casting I threw in some more handfuls of bait and the surface really began to boil as the fish competed for these free offerings. I discovered that the key to success was to deliver the cast as soon as possible after the bait had hit the water. Where the crucian were tentative and subtle the ide were aggressive to the point of recklessness, but could also eject the fly in a split second.They also seemed very tackle savvy if the cast was less than perfect. Connecting with takes took lightening reflexes and not being fully in possession of these I converted perhaps only 25% of takes at first. But as I got my eye in then some lovely ide came to hand and what a superb sporting fish this is, hard fighting, challenging and good looking.

    
I'll be back
For a hair-brain scheme dreamed up at my kitchen table the bait-fly fusion succeeded far better than I could have hoped for, with all three of my target species caught along with some nice roach and perch too. It has proved a versatile and fun method capable of taking bottom feeders and top water fish. I will be taking the approach to a known big tench water soon (perhaps with a sweetcorn imitation?) and I will definitely be holding a rematch with those ide..     

tight lines! 

DWB

 photography by Ellabella West Beale

Chalkstream Pike on the Fly

I am sitting by a tranquil chalkstream.  Later she meanders through clay farmland but here her emerald pools are placid and deep. This water is rich and clear and the electric flash of a kingfisher scatters some tiny roach as I string up my eight weight. Not the usual tackle for water such as this but I am here with a challenging quarry in mind. Today my interest lays in the pike that hunt in this little river.  

Gothic drama
Charles Rangeley-Wilson is right. There is something wonderfully Gothic about catching pike with a fly rod. For me the intimate atmosphere of the chalk stream heightens this sense of drama. The fish here are not generally huge - a ten pounder is a good fish and a twenty a rare monster.. but in this little river the fish seem to take on a scale of their own. And the rare  opportunity to sight fish

for pike is just too good to miss. However, during my early visits here I had soon discovered that if I was to be successful I would need to learn some new tricks..

This was my first catch from the chalkstream. She shot from under a moored boat at first light and hit my fly in mid-stream.

beginnings

My 4/0 baitfish tied to imitate fingerling roach. 

Back at the start of 2014 I had set myself the challenge of catching a river pike on the fly, but the close season was fast approaching. Many rivers were still flooded out and not easily tackled so my chances that season were beginning to look slim. But time spent in

reconnaissance is seldom wasted and eventually I discovered this little gem of a water - a small stretch of chalkstream with a good head of pike. Being spring fed and acting as a feeder to a series of ponds this section of river isn't prone to flooding.. and being a rich nursery for spawning roach it is also a very attractive proposition for pike!

new tricks

So throughout January and February I enjoyed some fine sport with the pre-spawn pike of the river and learned some new tricks along the way.  I found the pike to be very territorial and came to

Weed raft and willow roots, perfect for pike.

recognise individual fish and their preferred ambush positions. It seemed that the smaller more aggressive pike would hold tight to structure in the margins and streak out to hammer my fly if I could put it close enough to them. With gin clear water a stealthy approach is needed and by keeping low and away from the edge I could avoid spooking these fish. I worked to perfect a side cast that would drop my streamer under the branches and tight to the weed rafts. I discovered that by overpowering the cast I could steer the fly into position through applying tension with my line hand as the loop unrolled. Now I could plop my fly into all kinds of little nooks on the far bank and a whole new and highly enjoyable dimension to my fishing began to open up.     

Another dawn capture, tempted from the bottom of a deep pool with a streamer bumped slowly along the stream bed.

I also found that the larger pike usually held deep. With sometimes limited options for concealment these bigger fish adopted a hunting strategy of hugging the stream bed and waiting for unsuspecting

prey to swim by. I found that a streamer fished extremely slowly and bumped along the bottom was more effective than stripping it back in mid water. Frequently these fish would follow right to the near bank and stop inches from my static fly, reluctant to strike. 

The lack of eyes proved to be no disadvantage whatsoever.

uncommon knowledge
Although contrary to     received wisdom, I intuitively felt that the streamers I was using were too big. When I started to use smaller designs with slimmer bodies I enjoyed more success with finicky followers. I began to tie with hackle feathers to create patterns with very soft mobile tails. These could be fished almost statically with just the tiniest pull on the fly line to make the tail pulse enticingly. Laying in the long grass I played cat and mouse with pike right under my rod tip, waiting for the take from fish so close I could almost reach out and touch them. It was a nervy game to see who would blink first. Sometimes the take never came, sometimes after several minutes of close inspection the pike would sip the fly in so gently that I wondered just how many takes occur undetected and out of sight.. but what followed was invariably explosive as all hell broke loose in the little stream.  

strange behaviour

After many attempts on my fly we finally met face to face. 

As I fished through the season I witnessed some interesting pike behaviour. As I had come to recognise certain individuals I started to notice different characteristics in behaviour from fish to fish. One pike was consistently aggressive in attacking my fly but often missed it in an explosive surface attack - I caught it only once. Another large pike would follow my fly with curiosity but never take. She would ward off the smaller jacks aggressively and prevent them from getting near my streamer but would never strike my fly. Several times I had large pike follow my streamer to the near bank and then sit inches away rhythmically flaring gills and snapping jaws but never striking. But the strangest thing I have experienced here happened when I was bringing my largest capture to the net. I had hooked her in a shady pool and knew instantly that she was a good fish. She held deep and it was some minutes before I could see her. As she materialised, to my surprise she was accompanied closely by another female, larger still. Her companion was twining sinuosely about her, so closely that for a second I couldn't tell which of the two fish I had hooked.

As I drew my pike nearer she melted from view and sank bank into the pool. I have my own theory to explain this behavior which is more emotional than scientific but I will leave you to draw your own conclusions..

Full circle

I have fished this little spot every month of the river season this past year and couldn't resist a last visit. As I make my first cast and watch my streamer slowly sink I reflect on my good fortune. I have caught some beautiful fish and have been privileged in having the opportunity to observe their behaviour at close quarters. My love and respect for this wonderful predator is all the deeper for it. 

 

I have learned a few things that have surprised me and witnessed events that I have no explanation for. And this is as it should be, because after all, this is the great mystery that is fly fishing for pike.  

Church of the Perch

With the New Year came a new ambition.. to catch big perch on the fly! 

Of my earliest angling adventures, catching perch from the River Thames with my father burns the brightest in my memory. Small perch were plentiful and easy to catch with the time honoured worm and perch bobber. The tribal colours and mohican swagger of this tenacious scrapper made perch universally popular amongst my little gang of fellow anglers. Back then a half pounder was a good fish and a pounder was a schoolboy's dream.  

mixed fortunes
In the intervening years the fortunes of the perch have been mixed. Disease all but wiped out local populations in the late 1960's. But by the 1980's the perch population had bounced back and it seems that perch are once again plentiful, with their average size increasing almost yearly. 

There has probably never been a better time to try for a big perch, but where to start? 

first perch on the fly!

Until now my only perch on the fly had been, shall we say, somewhat juvenile.. caught on a size 14 shrimp pattern fished opportunistically over the maggots thrown in by my bait-fishing son. It was clear a more dedicated approach would be needed to locate and select-out the specimens.   

any structure holds perch potential

Knowing my local Grand Union Canal would be a good place to start, throughout January I researched potential swims and kept my ear to the ground.   

lock inflow - often a holding spot

ambush structure
Much tramping of the tow paths and some blanks sessions later my search narrowed down to a particular lock where the jungle drums told me of big perch holding up. The canal bed here is very snaggy, littered with bricks and boat debris arising from two hundred years of barge traffic bumping into the walls at the mouth of the lock... lots of ambush structure for striped predators. There is also an inflow culvert bringing a ready supply of tasty terrestrial treats marinated in warmer water. If I were a big canal perch I would want to live right here!

purpose built perch fly

stealthy presentation
I needed a fly that would fish deep without getting stuck. I looked to Dominic Garnett's classic perch jig fly with some variations of my own by adding lateral line from grizzle hackle and using a 2/0 worm hook. I would use an eight weight rod with a floating line and a long leader for stealthy presentation. 

ice-out
I was ready to go, but on the first morning of my campaign Winter tightened her grip. Snow was now falling and the water was frozen over. 

the perch shoal soon wise up and a fly colour change can make all the difference

Forced into a re-think I reasoned that the ice-out could work in my favour..

I figured that the baitfish would concentrate into the small areas of warmer water where the thaw starts first. Rich pickings for big clever perch!

Now all I needed was to get my timing right.. and that proved to be a Tuesday afternoon as the light was fading. With most of the canal still frozen I found a channel of ice-free water perhaps 20 yards long reaching to the middle of the canal. As I watched a jack pike harrying silverfish conditions seemed promising..
 
the line went heavy and then began to thump doggedly

3lb 2oz of beautiful fly-caught winter perch

I cast my fly across the ice and then twitched it back to plop into the water. Then a very slow stop-start retrieve hopping the fly along the bricky canal bed. After two hours I had covered every square inch of my 'ice-hole' without so much as a tweak. 

My frozen fingers had long since lost any feeling and I felt on the verge of giving up, but it was that stubborn voice in my head that spoke the loudest. So I decided on a change of tactics - a longer fluorocarbon leader and a long side cast, pulling the fly parallel to the ice line. On the second cast a perch shot out from under the ice and hit my fly. The line went heavy and then began to thump doggedly, telling me of a good fish.  

In the net my prize took my breath away. Staring back at me it lay, the stuff of boyhood dreams... now made real.

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Next post - tying Perch Streamers - a step by step guide