If life already seemed rather like a weird, not entirely pleasant hallucination after a diet of covid, war, fuel hikes and even England winning a bloody football tournament, summer has had its own drama on the water. Fresh from reporting on the Thames drying up at source for the Angling Times, I now hear that Devon’s Fire Service has been called in to rescue trapped salmon on the River Exe! Next, you’ll be telling me Liz Truss is prime minister.
Meanwhile, fatherhood has been a battleground, with my three-year-old catching me square on the nose with a beach pebble. It was just bloodied rather than broken, luckily. Because surely nothing makes a father feel less masculine than disclosing to hospital staff how you got your face smashed up by a toddler. I don’t think I’ve ever felt in greater need of some respite and a fishing rod.
Just as well that recent weeks have shown surprisingly good form, with some spectacular catches and surprises. Not least of all, on a trip with Olly Cullingford and friends at Todber Manor, I had a crazy, 45lb catfish on the fly!!! Absolutely bonkers, and as luck would have it, the whole nerve-shredding experience was filmed by John Deprieelle. I have never had a harder fight from any fish in the UK, period, and that includes sharks. More to come soon on this, along with a proper write-up in the Angling Times and Turrall Flies blog.
I also wanted to share the love with some exciting new angling writing, because Ben Jailler’s Fish, Camp, Fail is the funniest fishing book I’ve read in a long time. Alongside authors like John Moorwood, the continued success of Fallon’s Angler and Angling Times punching its weight again, it feels like a mini-revival for print right now. More on this shortly, but with the rivers running lower than a snake in a limbo contest, where better to escape than the coast?
Dolphins, Adders and Kayak fishing in South East Devon
When it comes to crazy, once-in-a-lifetime occurrences, this summer just keeps delivering things that are wonderful, alarming or just plain surreal. One of which was on a brief LRF trip to Brixham with my mate Chris Lambert. You’ll forgive me, though, if I state that the fishing felt quite peripheral on the day, after we had an unreal sight just yards from the car.
Doing playful laps of the harbour, so close you could have shared an ice cream with them, were two beautiful bottlenose dolphins. Now, of all the places to see dolphins or marine life in Devon, right by a car park in Brixham wouldn’t be many folks’ first choice, but there they were. The fishing itself was pretty mediocre, with gobies and small pollack but barely a mackerel or gar in sight. Who cares when you’ve had such a magical encounter such as this?
The other things I have been rediscovering this summer are my love of beaches and kayak fishing. It can be offputting when you see stacks of people out in the sun, admittedly, but several times now I’ve caught fish from just a few casual casts on a family day out. Bass don’t seem to mind swimmers and paddleboards that much!
For the best fishing, however, kayak often seems the way to go. You could always hire one if you don’t own a ‘yak. Nor do you need fishfinders or a ton of gear- and missions alongside my older brother, Ben Garnett, usually follow a simple principle: Start by fishing cover like rocks and cliff bases for bass and wrasse as the tide comes up, then head for open water and mackerel and other stuff as the water ebbs.
I’m not going to put the hotspots on a plate for you in this blog (sorry, but too many blunt implement anglers and quid-chasers alike already want to take our slow-growing bass) but suffice to say that a roving approach with lures is all you need to get going. I pretty much always take too many lures, but the two that have been slaying it for me this season have been a Savage Gear Line-thru Sandeel over open and sandy water, and the Fiiish Black Minnow in olive back/pearl closer to rocks. Perhaps no coincidence, because I’ve seen huge numbers of sand eels and sand smelts this year. It might be my lack of ability, but I don’t do as well on the big hard baits.
***Footnote here: if any lure maker is reading this, could you please design a much smaller yet still heavy enough to cast sand eel, please? Because 99% of the ones you all make are massive compared to the real thing. It’s like you’re trying to copy an Oreo using a Black Forest Gateau.
My word, you get wonderful hits from sea fish! They put pike and perch to shame- and are a much better and less fragile prospect in the heat. The trick this summer has been mixing up retrieves. The bass have seemed to want lures fished quite aggressively on high water, while the wrasse demand more patience to present offerings in and around the rocks. I take just one rod on these trips, in the 10-30g class, with 20lb braid and a 15lb fluoro leader, which seems to handle everything. The only time I’d step up heavier is if I was going all out for big wrasse.
The only trouble with success on soft plastics is that wrasse absolutely ruin lures for fun. The Fiiish Black Minnow (and assorted shameless copies) are a bit like an expensive but injury-prone striker. You can expect some stunning goals, but just one meaty challenge and it’s a broken leg, while those outrageously high wages still have to be paid.
Talking of dangerous challenges, I also had another crazy first on the tiny little beach we stopped off at for lunch. Sat right there on the shingle was an adder. No, really! How it got there is strange enough- because this particular little spot is underwater at high tide. Speaking to pals who know a bit more about this stuff, apparently, snakes are sometimes dropped by birds of prey. I hated to see it stranded, then, but wasn’t about to pick the thing up. And like grass snakes, they are decent swimmers, so I hope it managed to survive its supremely shitty day.
Fish, Camp, Fail by Ben Jailler
Just as essential to any summer as fishing is a good book to take with you to the bivvy, bankside or airport, which is why it gives me great delight to share an absolute gem from Ben Jailler. Now, I obviously love angling works but in fly fishing, especially, the humour can be closer to the after-dinner circuit than the pub with your mates. Which is why this irreverent collection of stories succeeds.
Littered with great one-liners and minor rants, it takes its references not from plummy tradition, but a scattergun diet of horror films, computer games, football players, monsters, crooks and despots. Expletive-laden and bursting with characters that almost eyeball you from within from its pages, it’s also a book that firmly realises a fundamental truth of angling writing: Endless chest beating and success are boring. Human flaws, cranky characters and hard-bitten victories are so much more fun and relatable. And with covid era observations and razor-sharp pop culture references, this feels so fresh. It’s closer to Sleaford Mods than Classic FM, for sure, but all the less cliched for it.
The stories here range from meetings with the outcasts of Bristol Water Fisheries, to Brittany’s grumpiest bass guide, through to camping jaunts and the wild lakes of Wales (which sounded soggily familiar in places). The humour is well spiked, to put it mildly, and while classic fishing books bring whistful smiles, this delivered some great punches and genuine belly laughs. Just take this sentiment, on the virtue of fly fishers:
“Anyone that fly fishes can’t be all bad. If Fred West had had a Bristol Water Fisheries sticker in the back window of his van, I’d happily have accepted a lift from him. If President Bolsanaro fished for peacock bass in the Amazon instead of setting fire to it, I’d happily put a big fat ‘X’ next to the ego-maniacal, Brazilian bell-end’s name.”
Or, indeed, the author’s sentiments on getting out in the covid era, amidst the tide of humanity that decided to use the countryside as their own personal piss up/ rubbish tip during covid:
“Being someone whose idea of a good time is sitting in a darkened room writing nonsense or staring at water for hours on end, I’ve coped pretty well with the lockdown. What I’ve coped less well with is the places I go to escape being desperately overrun with exactly the kind of people I’m trying to get away from. Along with Father Christmas, The Easter Bunny and Britannia once again ruling the waves post-Brexit, there also seems to be a shared belief among the masses of a magical f***ing fairy that makes wet wipes, cans of cider, bags of dog shit, abandoned tents and disposable BBQs disappear.”
Not many writers could mix up a cast of ancient fly anglers and forgotten lakes with faded rock stars, absurdly plotted video games and Hammer Horror movies. Nor is it common for me to actually chuckle out loud or my sides to ache when reading about fly fishing. Then again, Fish Camp Fail is no ordinary fishing book- and if John Morwood’s The Magic of Fishing is the most moving fishing read in years, this is easily the funniest. I could go on, but I won’t because if you want some perfect summer reading, you owe it to yourself to just get the damned book (CLICK HERE).
Fly fishing on the River Lyn, new video
Finally, also worth a shout this month is some more film footage to watch, this time with a day on the East Lyn River, near Lynmouth, beautifully captured on film by John Deprieelle. Even in blazing sunshine with holiday makers on the paths, this place seems well shaded and secretive, with so much to explore. Happy viewing and keep an eye out for more shortly: