Outside Days

Free Salmon Fishing

Howard — Tue, 01 May 2012 17:15:58 +0000

As those who know me will know, free is my favourite price. When an accidental encounter with Charlie Baker, owner of a stunning beat on the River Moy led to the opportunity to offer all of you free fishing I jumped at the chance.

The River Moy in County Mayo Southern Ireland is the most prolific salmon river in Western Europe with an estimated 100,000 fish running it every year. This beat is situated above and below the town of Foxford (about 30 mins from Knock airport), about 7 miles from the tidewater so sees tens of thousands of fresh run fish and an exceptional number of springers. The fishery has been developed during the last five years to make it the best fly fishery on the lower Moy. Unlike much of the lower water down to Ballina, which is all slow water, this beat has a considerable gradient and a good flow throughout the beat. It is an exciting stretch to fish, although not at all difficult, particularly in the lowest two pools.

The beats fishes equally well with the floating line in normal conditions or intermediate or sinking lines when the water is higher.

This offer runs for all of May and the first two weeks of June 2012, if interested please contact me for further details.

The catch, if you can call it that is to stick to the following rules for booking.

To qualify you have to stay in one of the b&bs or the hotel in
Foxford. No exceptions to this.
This is a fly only water.
All anglers need to follow the rules for Salmon fishing laid out by the local rivers board (http://fishinginireland.info/salmon/salmonregs.htm).
All applicants must email me and I will email back with fishing permission.
Last but by no means least, this is a first come first served offer.

Blowing Away the Cobwebs: Do You Know How to Reach Your Sporting Agent?

Howard — Sun, 25 Mar 2012 18:11:52 +0000

Are your rifle, gun and rod gathering dust? Fear not. With an email or a phone call you can enter a season of great sportfulness.

There’s fishing on southern chalkstreams from infamous like the Test and Itchen to more obscure waters like the Piddle and Ebble. Or maybe pulling the trigger 500 times in a sunny summer’s day is more your speed? Simulated game days are afoot with dates for scratch days and whole teams available. And of course the roe season is peeking a wary head around the corner.

If packing your suitcase and escaping these shores for foreign climes appeals, we are still booking trips to South Africa and Argentina, Spain and Croatia. Within a couple of hours’ drive of Buenos Aires, you can be engaging in high volume dove shooting that will leave your heart racing and barrels hot. In Croatia, you can dabble your toes in the Med before heading inland to tackle the migratory quail over pointers.

A word of warning to the procrastinators out there: shooting is booking up fast for the coming season. Giving me the heads up can make the difference between a lovely day in the field or one spent on the sofa watching cartoons with the kids. As always, if I can help please get in touch.

Battle of the Somme: French Wildfowling

Howard — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 10:30:22 +0000

Having had so many great guinea pig trips, you can forgive me my audacity when I planned an expedition to explore wildfowling a la francaise and invited a journalist to join me.

Years of writing as a sporting journalist for titles like the Sporting Gun have left Ian Mason more open-minded and intrepid than most, and he accepted the invitation to cross the channel for an entente cordial with alacrity. After a comfortable night on the ferry, we awoke in France and made the two hour drive from the ferry port to Le Crotoy inland from the Bay of Somme. Famed for its duck shooting from hutte, this area is littered with flight ponds and wetlands and thousands of hutte to accommodate the nightly influx of guns from September to sometime in late January or early February.

In France, there is no law preventing the use of live decoys, so each pond has a holding pen for pricey ducks and geese (up to 200 euros a brace for geese). These decoys are taken out onto floating stands where they are fixed for the evening, able to hop in and out of the water at their leisure. The live decoys are laid out in straight lines so they don’t become targets as dusk descends.The logic for this arrangement becomes apparent when it is explained that while the evening flight is undertaken in much the same way as it is in Britain, the main event involves a shotgun with a telescopic sight mounted on it and the ducks that have settled onto the water between the lines of decoys.

Through the pillbox-like window of the hutte, we squinted out at indistinct shapes bobbing on the water. While it undoubtedly challenged our perceptions of a sporting shot, firing at a bobbing target in the dark through a small slit when only just awake is much harder than it sounds. Our bag was 6, one shot British-style at dusk and the balance in the French manner. While definitely not a sporting destination in its own right, when combined with wild grey partridge and/or walked-up snipe, the adventure becomes worth crossing the Channel for.

For more details or to book your trip contact us at info@outsidedays.com

Irish Birds: Driven Shooting in Ireland

Howard — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 15:31:55 +0000

I have a reputation for offering great (if unconventional) sport in obscure locations. If you don’t believe me, make sure you are signed up for the next mail shot.

So the request to find not just driven shooting in Ireland, but high pheasants within partying distance of Dublin, seemed staid and predictable…at first glance. As it turns out, much of the shooting in Ireland is let out to sporting clubs, taking the form of rough or walked up shooting. It’s easier to find a pebble dash replica of a hacienda or the Taj Mahal than a good shoot producing reliably high birds. Fortunately, years of networking pay off when it comes to shaking the tree for venues, and I knew exactly who to track down for the inside scoop.

Years of selling sport has turned me into a nail-biting skeptic when it comes to new shoots…hence my instance on seeing everything I sell and using my team of guinea pigs to try before YOU buy. So the well-worn Irish homily, ‘Not a problem! It will be grand,’ is enough to give me sleepless nights. Fortunately, my spies had outdone themselves with a stunning shoot in the foothills of the Wicklow Mountains. A father and son team with a reputation for excellence that precedes them across the Irish Sea, Fiach and Ciaran show the finest Irish birds to their countrymen and foreigners alike seven days a week during the season.

One of the guns (who’s honour and job I’ll protect by leaving his name out of it), declared the second drive of the day the best drive he’d shot on in years…high praise from someone who has already shot 50 days this year on some of the best-known shoots in England. Shooting on a Sunday has great advantages when it comes to getting the most of your season and organising a busy team. With a little clever planning it is possible to leave the UK on a Friday evening, shoot two stunning days and be back at your desk on Monday morning. Add to that the legendary hospitality available, from the lure of Temple Bar to the soothing ministrations of the spa at the hotel, we can tailor a package of sport and fun to suit. I’ve already taken the first Irish bookings of 2012, so get craicing.

If You Go Into the Woods Tonight, You’re in for a Big Suprise…

Howard — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 10:00:18 +0000

I’ve always wanted to see what goes on in the dark.

As eating carrots is just a myth perpetuated by the powers that be and parents, on my annual pilgrimage to that mecca of sporting kit Bass Pro, I picked up a trail cam. We’ve been experimenting ever since with varying degrees of success. After undertaking comprehensive trials with the dogs, the cameras have been strategically placed near our fallow ruts to catch the early season action. I’ve had an excellent shot of the keeper ducking to avoid the cam (nice one, Fred), and lots of the dogs.

After strapping the camera to a birch on the edge of a favourite rutting stand, I sat back and waited to upload the early season action. We’ve had lots and lots of paparazzi friendly does, who, either by virtue of being slower or more curious seem to get caught facing the camera…whereas the bucks take the completely opposite approach. Literally.

Aside from the odd shot where they wander across the frame at speed, or stand just on the edge of shot, we’ve had a lot of empty frames – the shutter snaps 15 seconds after it’s triggered, so like bored children in Christmas photos, my subjects frequently have wandered off.

Of course No.2 considers the major victory to be the ‘fantastic’ shot of a fox’s brush (her adjective, not mine) to be the crowning glory of the whole experiment, enabling her to crow a victorious told-you-so at me. If you, like me, have fallen for the charms of this bit of kit, email me your best shots so we can share them with a wider audience.

Where Did August Go?

Howard — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 20:05:35 +0000

The glorious 12th came racing up on me like a steam train, leaving disarray in its wake as I tackled Yorkshire, Croatia, the 19th century and the Sussex downs in rapid succession. While the rest of the country basked in an Indian summer, I sweltered in tweeds and froze in moleskins depending on the whim of Mother Nature. I pack sunscreen and short sleeves for Croatia, but the indignity of combining suncream with tweed has me questioning the apparent realignment of the seasons. Except for the not-so-glorious fog that accompanied the guns on August 12th and 13th of course.

The first of our annual brace of black powder days went off with a bang as the team attempted their first partridge. Mini-driven days are always more about the laugh, fancy dress and the giving of stick, bag is immaterial to this team…especially when we never seem to reach it. At 60 seconds plus to reload both barrels, I spend more time on the radio holding the line and my belly than anything else. Having taken up the invitation to fire a flintlock in anger at quarry, I am amazed the team hit anything at all: the delay requires physics calculations worthy of a submariner to put shot in the same airspace as a bird.

At long last, the sweltering weather seems to have broken with cool nights, showery days and the fallow rut settling us in to autumn’s rhythm. The first pheasants are starting to turn up in bags, and days are going from pure partridge to the days of mixed sport that signal the start of pheasants in seriousness. With the first frosts underfoot, we are selling the last of the late grouse bargains and a few remaining guns and days. The first woodcock have been reported on the Isle of Lewis, with many more to follow as the winter days draw in and the arctic blast we are promised materialises. If you find yourself with some spare days to fill, get in touch…we’ve taken our first booking for January 2013 so you needn’t worry about appearing overeager.

Outside Days at CLA Game Fair in Countryside Alliance Shooting Lodge

Howard — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 17:31:43 +0000

We are delighted to officially announce that Outside Days will be hosting the Countryside Alliance‘s Shooting Lodge at the 2011 CLA Game Fair at Blenheim Palace Friday July 22nd to Sunday July 24th. Howard, No.2, Tony and the team will be around all weekend to share their latest tales of daring do and big fish. Please drop by for a chat, to catch up and enter our prize draw for the chance to win a great sporting prize.

Bosnian Belly Flop

Howard — Sat, 18 Jun 2011 11:23:30 +0000

While quail shooting, I stumbled across a stretch of Bosnian water and, enticed by its clarity and general troutiness, proposed it as a guinea pig trip. A group of old friends took the gamble, using flicking the fluff as an excuse to convene from their homes across Europe for a long weekend in backwoods Bosnia. The very nature of guinea pig trips means, despite my best effort to iron out the kinks from the New Forest, not all excursions run smoothly. Close on the heels of a very successful experimental trip to Spain, I packed my bags and made for Zagreb with that shoe-dropping feeling in my belly.

After collecting the team in Zagreb, we set off in our rental car for Kulen Vakuf. One exchange with the Bosnian police later, and we arrived in deepest (the village lies in the bottom of a vertiginous valley), darkest (it was 1 am). Bright, eager fishermen welcomed the new day and the guide at 9am, only to be greeted by Sullen from Kulen. We can categorically say clinical depression does not a world-class ghillie make. Fortunately, with four of us, the ghillie cloud could only hover over one of us at a time.

The first day was spent fishing a mixture of water, mainly pools and glides on the River Una. Using very small nymphs to little avail, we lured a few six to ten inch rainbows and a half decent grayling from the water. The clarity of the water led to some humorously close shaves as we struggled to judge depth. The impressive flow of the Una made upstream fishing almost impossible. Walking into the river’s power required superhuman strength we mere mortals lacked, so we copied the local method and worked our way downstream. We had an Outside Days first: fishing interrupted by laundry as a local woman joined us on the riverbank with soap and her intimate apparel in lieu of rod and line. An afternoon thunderstorm and heavy rain saw the guinea pigs retreating from the riverbank for the day.

Having shrugged off our Eeyore of a guide, we made for the River Martin Brod. Martin Brod’s trout were far more aggressive on the dry fly, and several pound to pound and a half fish were caught, but the bag was still dominated by prodigious numbers of four to eight inch fish. Just as we were starting to look forward to the afternoon’s hatch, the weather rolled in with another thunderstorm forcing us off the river.

Our final day saw us returning to the Una, this time on the Kulen Vakuf town beat. It’s one of the few places I’ve fished where a fisherman looking for a break from casting has a choice of riverside bars with decks stretching over the water. Packed with locals, they were prime territory for tips and advice from locals au fait with the peculiarities of their water and fish. Off the back of all the local assistance, one impressive specimen was caught among the shoal of smaller fish that we’d accepted as the hallmark of these waters. Mother Nature brought the last day to an abrupt end with an impressive display of weather, including torrential rain and pounding hail.

Three good friends spent a long weekend in a beautiful location on stunning rivers and had great fun…despite the wrong guide and no fish worth mentioning. Having canvassed the locals for an explanation of the lack of large fish in these obviously productive waters, it appears they divide into two camps. An exponential spike in the cormorant population is to blame, posits one faction. No no, responds the other, it is local overfishing to supplement meagre incomes. In reality, the explanation probably sits between the two: there are definitely big fish in the waters, but most are caught with conventional tackle and bakery enticement not on the fly. Oh, and the reason for our guide’s obvious depression? A woman, of course.

Barbelous Dry fly Fishing in Spain

Howard — Wed, 18 May 2011 18:57:52 +0000

Six months ago a stranger from Spain posted a comment on one of my blogs telling me that where he fished, they caught barbel on the dryfly in numbers. Never one to miss the opportunity to try something new, I packed my bags, guinea pig and tame fishing journalist for the first experiment of the 2011 guinea pig season. After an inauspicious start, earthquakes, heavy rain, a forced relocation and impromptu three hour drive, two bottles of wine at lunch, we were rods in hand on an enormous (86.5square km) reservoir by 5pm. Slight language issues meant gestures and demonstrations were the order of the day, and after our host showed us how it was done, we were soon into fish of our own.

Best described as upside down bonefishing, you see cruising barbel as they come into the shallows to hunt, fins above the water like small scale golden sharks. With the theme tune to Jaws playing in your head, you cast your terrestrial imitation in front of blunt, moustachioed noses. If you get it right, the fish will raise its head and knock the fly several times before rearing up, grabbing it and running in the opposite direction. The shallow water means they have no where to go but out towards the deeper water of the lake, and they keep going until your line is heading for the backing or you are man enough to fight back.

The reservoir offers a huge variety of habitats from boulder-strewn outcrops to white sand flats to grassy coves populated with sheep. This diversity meant that in 30 hours of fishing over two and a half days, we were never bored. Walking continuously and casting in turn, we managed a respectable bag…we averaged about a fish an hour even with the wind creeping up to a lionous force 7 on one day. With the barbel fishing peaking in October at a tremendous 40 barbel a piece, the fishing only gets better. It is possible to fish for barbel on the dryfly for 10 months of the year, although the best seasons are between April and early July and September until November.

I’m already packing my bags and the guinea pigs for our second adventure (Bosnian trout), but if barbel tempts you, I’m taking bookings now for what Toby has described as the best short fishing break he’s ever been on. That says something when you fish all over the world for a job.

Sporting Agent Gunned Down By Freak Virus

Howard — Wed, 11 May 2011 21:17:40 +0000

I consider myself a bit of a social media baron on the quiet, as those of you reading this on Facebook or Twitter or Linkedin can attest. And I am a fully paid up subscriber to Norton’s products in addition to an external hard drive as prophylactic belts and braces. So imagine my horror when my screen went black on Sunday May 1st. A week of watching a major computer sales outfitter play doctor with my hard drive left me with the diagnosis of a software problem, a factory reset, no accounts, no emails and no invoices.

Fortunately, the technicians in shining armour at SC Consultants came riding to my rescue. In short order (over the phone) the whizz kid on the other end of the line informed me I had a virus that had appeared on the 23rd of March. Twenty four hours later I had my mended machine back. Okay, its taken me another day to sort out all the software entanglements. Considering at one point Microsoft kindly informed me I’d be restoring information for the next 9,606 days and 5 hours. I can only anticipate that HMCR and my shoots will be less understanding when I tell them my accounts and their cheques will be ready sometime after Will and Kate’s silver wedding anniversary.

If you had the feeling I was ignoring you, if I haven’t been as rapid in response as you have come to expect, or if I have otherwise appeared to neglect you, I apologise. If you haven’t been in contact to book shooting or fishing or stalking…why not? Better get a move on as this is shaping up to be a busy year. In fact, if I seem distant this coming weekend, it’s because I am abandoning No.2, the trout mid-mayfly, and planning for the season to pursue barbel on the dry fly in sunny Spain.