Red Tag, Yellow Tag

Having tied up a few more dry flies specifically for grayling I decide to have a another go for them today. The first fly on was one that I have no idea what it's called. Tied on a 16, with yellow tag, peacock body and cree hackle, I just have it in some old notes. It did, however, work as fish after fish attacked it, but failed to hook. Which was not surprising as they were some of the smallest grayling I've ever seen, only 3-4" long, their distinctive dorsal fin showing clearly as they attacked the fly.

Moving upstream I found a small shoal rising, to what I couldn't see,  just below a riffle. I managed to fool three of them before they disappeared. It was a quite a while before I found more rising, again I couldn't see what they were feeding on. Again tiny little grayling were the first to the fly, a change to a red tag produced the same result. There were larger fish swimming about below the smaller ones, so I decided to persist. Changing to he good old John Storey had the desired result. It was all but ignored by the smaller fish, and occasionally one of the larger ones would rise up through them to take it. Out of interest, I cut the yellow tail off one fly and tried that. As I hoped it was ignored by the smaller fish and taken by a couple of the larger ones, in fact the largest of the evening. I think the little uns were just seeing, and attacking, the tag .

John and the Ladies

With the trout season ending at the end of the month, I decided, on Sunday, to have another go at catching one on dry fly on stretch I've never managed to. I've caught them on wets, nymphs, lures, even luncheon meat, but never of the surface.

Upon arrival the wind had got up again and was gust straight down the best of the trout swims. I wished I brought a #5 rod instead of the #4. The only fly life I'd seen while having a wander was a few daddy long legs tumbling over the grass banks. So I stated off with one on the end of the leader, an Airflo Polyleader which helped turn the large fly over onto the wind. A couple of small fish had a tentative nudge at the fly, but nothing more.

 



























 As I wandered upstream and the wind eased I gradually decreased the size of the fly via Klinkhammer, APT, down to a size size 18 IOTBB Humpy. Near the top of the length the sun popped out and quite a few fish were rising. All I got were splashy rises and the occasional nudge though. Rooting through the fly box for inspiration sense finally prevailed and a John Storey was tied on. After all the fly was invented on the Rye. First cast with it produced a small grayling followed by several more over the the next three swims.

 










Just as I was beginning to enjoy my self a chill wind got up and the sky turned black. The rises stopped and then it started spitting with rain. Despite the lack of trout I decided to call it a day. I made it back to the car before the heavens opened. While I sat there having a cup of tea and waiting for the rain to stop, so I could get out of the chesties a herd of bullocks gathered round the car. I decide to drive out of this field before getting changed and was escorted by them all the way to the gate. Just before arriving at the gate a hare bolted from cover and caused them to stampede away.

Flapping Flounder

Sunday saw me heading east for another spot of sea fishing. With less wind than last time things looked good, increasingly so when I spotted other anglers upon my arrival. Fishing was to be from low water to high. Armed with the long rods, tactics were one with a cascade rig at 100 yards or so. The other, with a two hook flapper, was to be fished at 30-60 yards. Baits were lug, squid, mackerel, mussel, in various combinations.

It was a little while before the closer rod’s tip started to bouncing about and a 9” flounder was quickly cranked in. While re-baiting the other rod showed signs of life. The culprit this time being a bait thieving crab. This was all the action I had for the rest of the flood. The others there didn’t do any better.

Never Ignore the Locals

With reports that Withernsea was fishing well from low tide up, I decided to give it a go on Sunday with my shiny new Imax Rod and Penn reel. Stopping at the tackle shop to pick up bait, Worm, Mussel,Squid, Mackerel, I realised my rig wallet was not in the car. Thankfully there was a plentiful choice in the shop. Arriving at Withernsea just before low water to find it windier than I'd hoped, as the consensus was that it fishes better in calm conditions.

After some fish 'n' chips for lunch I started to get set up. This is when the first of several people decided to inform me how good the fishing had been last week and how bad it was going to be today. It was also when the second of the day's problems turned up. One leg on my tripod was jammed and no amount of pulling tapping or wiggling was going to unjam it. No matter I'd just have to rest the rod on a groyne. Problem number three occurred with the first cast. A birds nest was ripped from the reel and into the rod rings. This despite the fact that I'd had more than a few casts over grass , to ensure the braid was well bedded in. The bird's nest was quickly unravelled, only to the line out to sea had drifted round the end of the groyne. After much pulling it eventually snapped at the leader. I tied on another one and soon cast out again, only for a similar problem to occur. I'd made sure the leader knot was at the front of the spool. Not sure what was causing this I change spools to mono and enjoyed a trouble free day after that,

I tried various combinations of the bait I'd bought at various distances, but nothing seemed to entice the fish. Really I should have known better than to continue as the was no sign of anybody else fishing. If the locals aren't out, something's amiss. I was eventually joined by a couple of youngsters who showed me some pictures of rays they'd caught earlier in the week and weren't optimistic about the chances of catching.

 

While they fished similar baits to me, at close range, I cast out to a deeper hole near the end of the groyne. When even the crabs aren't having a go at your bait I think it's time to give up and this I did just over the top of the tide.

The problem with the braid puzzled me, so I had another go casting over grass, the next evening, and even with the leader knot at the back of the spool I couldn't reproduce the problem. Must have been a hint from the fishing gods not to bother.

Pink Power

Between gardening, decorating and visiting relatives I only had time for a short session, on Bank Holiday Monday. I opted for a small local pond for a spot of jigging. Opting for the pink 2" Power Shirasu  and a Shirasu jig head I was into small perch straight away, taking half a dozen close through a channel in the lilies. Due to the profusion of Duck Weed swims were limited, but those that were fishable produced up to a dozen similar sized perch. One swim, along side a fallen tree, produced a rather pretty little jack that put a reasonable bend in the HTO Rockfish T. A rather pleasant evening was soon brought to a halt by the biting midges though. I'd forgotten the repellent, so retreated gracefully home and onward to the pub.

Jigging for Minows

One of my favourite little becks has a stretch which is nearly unfishable with a fly rod. Low hang branches, high banks and it's width all conspire to prevent a fly rod being waved about. In the past I've wiggled fly line out of the rod tip in the hope of drifting a fly under the branches down to the fish, but the varying currents rarely allowed a fly to be presented properly. This time I decided to try flicking small jigs about.

With the beck being shallow and clear I decided to start with a natural, brown, coloured lure. After a few casts along side some tree roots a little trout popped out and followed the lure for a yard or so. It did this next cast so I changed to to something more lurid, chartreuse, which was quickly grabbed, but only by the tail. Further on another little trout popped out from under an undercut bank and followed the lure before dodging back under the bank. Again a change of colour, to pink, provided the stimulus for a take. Unfortunately it's acrobatics snagged the line on a trailing briar and by the time I'd got upstream it had shaken it's self off the de-barbed hook.

One thing I'd noticed this season was the lack of coarse fish, hardly any  chub, dace or gudgeon and an astonishing lack of minnows. This was to change in the next few swims, which were rammed with minnows several of which I managed to foul hook. Occasionally one managed to grab the hook and a few grabbed the tail of the lure seemingly unable to eject it.

As I neared the end of the stretch I dropped the lure into one of the deeper, 2 foot, holes and was finally reward with another small acrobatic trout.

At this point I was at the edge of the woods and realised what the background noise was. It had been raining for quite a while. A brisk walk back through the woods got me back to the car just before the heavens opened.

White Only

Another short, after work, session on the Aire and Calder Navigation which resulted in a shed load of small perch to a small jig. The only thing of note to report was the fact they'd only take white lures. Any other colour was just nipped at, but white was the only colour I could hook them on. It didn't matter about the retrieve, quick, slow, smooth, jerky, whatever.