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.

RSS news feed Newsletter / Mailing list Contact us

The Three Beverly Hills Attorneys

As a professional adult day care provider and fly fishing guide, I need to be careful about razzing fishing clients on my own blog, even if some of them deserve it. That is why I am offering up this story as a guest post. This occurred long ago when I was in my early 20s and guiding for one of the many fishing lodges on the Kenai River. Fortunately, I now own my own business and handle my bookings directly. Many of my guests return yearly and/or refer their friends and family, so incidents like this no longer happen. No offense is intended toward the many great attorneys out there who work hard so they can fish every chance they can get.

I was supposed to meet three clients at the Kenai Airport arriving on a 9am flight. I waited as passengers deplaned and they did not show up. I called the lodge to inquire if they’d called in, but they’d heard nothing. I waited for the next flight an hour later and still no guys. I figured I’d wait it out for one more. At 10:30, three gentlemen were deposited on the curb by a cab. Could these be my guys? They were standing there in silk jogging suits holding little hand bags. I said, “Are you guys looking for your guide?” They said, “We are here to go to “The Fishing Lodge on the Kenai River”. I said “Which one?” They said, “The Fishing Lodge on the Kenai River.” Apparently they had come in an hour earlier and grabbed a cab, telling the driver to take them to “The Fishing Lodge on the Kenai River”. The cabbie drove them around for an hour and a half. Who knows how many miles they traveled while racking up a steep bill. Knowing the correct name of their destination might have helped.

I got their names and called “The Fishing Lodge on the Kenai River” where I worked. My lodge reached their booking agent and I was somewhat disappointed to find out that they were my guys. I inquired, “Where is your luggage?” They said, “We don’t have any. Our secretary booked the trip and told us that our trip was all-inclusive.” I said, “That’s true, but you still need to bring your own clothes. We are headed straight to the river, already several hours late, and it’s 48 degrees and raining. We are going to have to stop at a sporting goods store so you guys can at least get some rain gear and another layer.”

So I took them into a store where they moaned about having to buy the appropriate gear. We finally got on the river at noon for a float that was over ten miles long. As we launched, the rain quit and they started in about wasting money on rain gear. I advised that they suit up for warmth and to be covered when the rain started again, which it soon did. They didn’t suit up. “It will stop,” they said. Eventually it did, but they were wet, cold and miserable and still complaining about having to buy the stupid raingear. One of the guys produced a bottle of scotch and they proceeded to get drunk and even ruder.

We were fishing for king salmon on the Lower Kenai River in a drift boat after a late start in lousy conditions. It was quickly turning into the boat ride from hell. In the midst of our collective misery and while I was rowing like a mad man to hold the boat in a heavy water slot, the miraculous happened. Two rods went down and two big kings were hooked and ripping line. One went down river toward the ocean liked he’d made a wrong turn, and the other went straight upriver past the boat on a spawning mission not to be derailed. I tried to explain that we needed to chase the down runner if we were going to land either fish. The upper classy fellow with the upstream rocket started screaming at me to chase his fish back up 14,000cfs of heavy water. I politely ignored his request without trying to explain the physics problem. Fortunately his fish self-released while he was seething at me. He refused to reel in his 100yds. of line and it eventually passed the boat, tangled in a sweeper, and I had to cut it off while still trying to navigate around several boulders and stay on the same path as the other fish.

We eventually landed an awesome 55lb. King. At this point, the guys were roaring drunk and going hypothermic, so I felt justified in bailing despite the other two anglers howling about wanting bigger fish than the one their lucky S.O.B. of a friend had caught. On the way down to the landing, they screamed at every boat we passed and complained about lousy fishing. The hour long ride back to the lodge was a real joy. At dinner that night, two of the guys got into a fight and broke some dishes and pretty much scared the other guests.

At breakfast the next morning, I explained that the sockeye salmon fishing on the upper Kenai was really good and that if they were willing to try fly fishing, we could have an action filled day. I figured that even a drunken lawyer from LA could hook some sockeyes the way they were running until they said, “We know all about fly fishing. We just saw that movie.” Right…

So I floated them down to a nice gravel run where sockeye were streaming past. We were set up with 8-wt. fly rods and 300 grain Teeny Lines. I explained the concept of drifting the fly deeply and swinging it across the path of the fish. No false casting necessary. This is a heavy sinking line. Just flip it upstream, roll cast to redirect the angle and lead it back down with the rod tip. My demonstration drift was interrupted by an energetic chrome sockeye. “We know what we’re doing,” they scoffed and the pain fest began. I have never witnessed such careless flogging. No attempts at ordered casting were made and my vain tries at demonstrating the proper technique kept resulting in me hooking more fish. After three tries, I gave up and spent the next hour untangling lines from rocks, vegetation, myself, themselves and pretty much everything but the hundreds of fish that were streaming past.

Finally, one of the guys paused mid flog to take a breath, and his line sank just enough to hook a fish in the dorsal fin. Off it went like a scalded cat, while he yowled as his fingers were battered by the whirling reel handle. I pretty much figured I would lose the fly line without rapid response, so I sprinted down the bar, caught the fly line and drug in the hapless fish, quickly releasing it.

When I walked back up to the guys, they were lined up waiting. “What the f**! do you think you are doing letting our fish go?” I explained that the fish was foul hooked and not a legal catch and that by regulation, we were required to release it. “We don’t give a g** d@^ $*!+about your f*^(!n fishing regulations.” I tried to remain calm while explaining that despite their feelings, I was a fishing guide and my job is to follow the regulations. Under no circumstances was I going to break the law for them. They made their disregard for regulations quite clear and challenged me with their legal expertise. There was more F**! piece of s**! Alaska regulations don’t means S**! to me, before I said, “Let’s go try another spot.” I floated straight to the landing and left them there while I hiked to the road and hitchhiked back to the lodge. I found the lodge manager and explained the situation. He went back and picked them up and they were on a plane home the next day.

These guys win the award for the worst clients ever. Their award is banishment from Alaska for life. They seriously made me question the guiding profession. I’m glad I did not waiver and I’ve now enjoyed many years and hundreds of the Best Clients Ever. There have been unique experiences impossible to enumerate, shared with many great people in some very special places.

If you fancy your shot at being a Best Client Ever, one of his fantastic t-shirts, or just more of his adventures and wisdom, you can find Fred at the aptly named Mystic Fishing.

RSS news feed Newsletter / Mailing list Contact us

There’s no question we’re stressed – just take a look at my follicularly-challenged bonce. Then there are all the statistics on strokes, unfitness and depression: all rising with my blood pressure. So we need to release that valve, blow off some steam, or in a former beloved’s jargon ‘take some ME time’ (clearly an unpopular suggestion given she’s been superceded by No.2). If shutting the bathroom door, lighting candles and filling the tub with bubbles doesn’t float your boat, I have the solution for you: fly fishing.

According to the Stress Reduction Institute, “Even 1 second of relaxation can break up the stress patterns in your brain.” So imagine what an evening’s fly fishing will do! Whether you’re an experienced fluff flicker looking to cast your line in new and uncharted waters for unencountered species or a novice who likes the sound of wandering up the river bank in carpet slippers G&T in hand, when it comes to fish wish fulfilment I’m your man or know someone who will be.

There’s something and somewhere to fish year-round in the UK before you look further afield. So before you end up at the gym, GPs or heaven forbid A&E, join me and mine on the bank (be it pond, river, ocean or lake). For those of you addicted to the adrenaline rush of the gym, nothing raises the heart rate or the spirits like having a tight line.

RSS news feed Newsletter / Mailing list Contact us

Try as I might, I just couldn’t get my Spey cast to come together. The more effort I put in, the more it went wrong. This was turning into a disaster…and I was less than an hour in.

I was fishing in August on the Kharlovka, one of Russia’s northern rivers situated on the famous Kola Peninsula. The northern rivers have a repuation for being challenging to fish. Less prolific than their southern counterparts in terms of numbers, they yield much larger multi-sea-winter fish. I didn’t want to catch a lot of fish: I was looking for the fish.

This was my quest for the week, assuming I could ever get my fly into the water. Eventually my fishing partner, Sean Clark, lit another cigarette and waded out to join me. “Calm down and stop dropping your rod tip when you bring your cast to the stop.” The line formed a tight loop and I finally started to cover the water, easy.

We fished down the pool together and I could finally relax and start to enjoy myself. I drank in my surroundings and reflected on the prospects for the week ahead. The first part of which we’d enjoy in the comforts of the lodge on the Kharlovka, and the second would see us helicopter to the nearby Litza and tented accommodation. As I considered what lay in store, I felt the familiar tap…tap as my line started to draw away: a fish! Not the monster I was looking for, but as I safely returned the fish, I had the feeling I was in for a good week.

Set in pristine tundra, the rivers here are achingly beautiful and leave you feeling this must have been what salmon fishing was like everywhere a couple of hundred years ago. Challenging to fish in parts, the rivers required some tricky wading and long casts, but this made all the more thought provoking and rewarding an experience. As the week slipped by, the rivers lived up to their reputation. One memorable afternoon saw a fellow anger land a personal best of 31lbs to be followed down the pool by his companion, who then caught a fish of 35lbs out of the same lie (I felt satisfied enough ending the week with my own personal best of 20lbs and several smaller fish to boot). The Kharlovka and Liza are truly fisherman’s rivers where you’re only ever a cast away from something amazing.

If you want to join Tony in his pursuit of GARGANTUAN salmon and trout, he’ll be leading a few trips to various prime big fish locations each year. Get in touch!

RSS news feed Newsletter / Mailing list Contact us

Infamous for its volcanoes and salmon fishing, Iceland offers the angler outstanding sea trout, brown trout and even arctic char to accompany the legendary leaper. Outside Days offers a range of fishing opportunities from June to October in a number of noted rivers including the Tungulaekur, the Minnivallalaekur, the Galtalaekur, the Breiodalsa and the Jokla. Explore the wild beauty of Iceland rod in hand.

As you would expect from us, packages combining several rivers and species are available and as always we are only too happy to tailor a package to suit. We use a number of lodges, most on a river’s edge, and all designed to provide maximum comfort for guests. Whether your pleasure is wild trout reaching 16lbs, salmon heading for 30lbs, or sea run char and trout in any combination, we are happy to oblige.

RSS news feed Newsletter / Mailing list Contact us

While you’ve been reliving the season past over a pint and cleaning your gun for the final time, I’ve been to the GP to arrange shots and contemplated packing for a guinea pig trip to South Africa in May. Never one to live in the present, I had the details of that trip sewn up with my Christmas shopping: now I’m firming up plans for trips to Croatia in early August. Better known for boar and deer (which we can also arrange), Croatia is also home to a species of quail so small that disturbed coveys have been described as swarming bees. Cheap flights to parts of Croatia have made bargain sporting breaks a tempting prospect. We’ll be putting together teams to go to locations near Split and Zagreb in pursuit of these tiny dynamos. The sport will be quail over pointers at either end of the day (avoiding midday heat), and ‘cultural’ activities in between. As always with pointers, the ideal team size is 4, and the standard package is 2 days sport, 3 nights accommodation. If birds the size of angry bees are your thing, get in touch.

When game birds become protected species on February 2nd, trigger fingers across the country begin to itch through lack of use. Simulated game, or game clays as I like to call them, provides the remedy for many of you each year. From April until mid-July we offer days on several locations in the South, or we can bring the sport to you. Unlike driven shooting where the line is limited to 6 to 10 guns, we work on 12 to 18. Perfect for everything from team building to wedding guest amusement, we’ve organised days for it all. From fully catered with wait staff and candelabras to picnics in a hay barn or sandwiches from the boot, we can do it all. For the lone gun or incomplete line, we have a number of scratch days throughout the simulated season. Get in touch if firing upwards of 400 cartridges a day sounds like fun.

My sporting passion began with rod and line, and every year as the buds burst and the days lengthen I am drawn back to my roots on the river bank. Whether your pleasure is still water or river, novice or experienced fisherman, we have opportunities to flick fluff at trout for all. Days are booking up rapidly, but remember you can always fit in an evening’s sport after the office closes with some of our waters catering to the afterhours fisherman.

RSS news feed Newsletter / Mailing list Contact us

As the old saying goes, give someone a fish, and you’ve fed them for the day. Teach them to fish, and not only do you feed them for a lifetime, but it makes it much easier to buy them gifts for birthdays and Christmases yet to come.

We offer a range of lesson plans, from all-season, lake-based courses to bespoke chalkstream masterclasses. Gift days start from £90.

RSS news feed Newsletter / Mailing list Contact us

We wrote this blog more than a year ago, but had to hold off sharing it with you for editorial reasons. Now, in the gloomy rain of autumn, it seems appropriate to hark back to summers gone, and dream of the ones to come. As I have observed when trying to justify my attempts to catch barbel on the fly, fishermen invent new challenges when bored. The Arundell Arms staff, passionate about their flyfishing, have invented the Devonshire Flyrod McNab: brown trout, sea trout and sea bass on the fly in a day. I’ve been desperate to visit the infamous Arms since I was 10 and keen to learn to flyfish. Needless to say, my parents couldn’t be convinced to send their kid off to Devon on his own, and had no interest in accompanying me, so I had to satisfy myself with drooling over their brochures. Thirty years on, Anne Voss-Bark was kind enough to invite me and Number Two to stay and attempt the McNab.

The 2008 season was a challenging one on the spate rivers, with the constant rain making conditions unpredictable, but I packed my rods in great anticipation, and headed west. For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of staying at the Arundell Arms, it is famed as much for its fabulous food and hospitality as for the 20 miles of fishing on the Tamar and its tributaries.

Conditions on the Tamar resembled the Nile in flood, ruling out any night time adventures as the water was just too dangerous to fish for sea trout in the dark. Come the morning, it was apparent we would have to be clever with our fly choice to tempt salmonids of any flavour to take. Needless to say after several hours of dangling Pilkington Bumbles (our ghillie’s foolproof invention) in likely spots, we conceded defeat and beat a hasty retreat to the welcoming arms of the bar. Under fishing paraphernalia that would make the most accquisitory collector blush, we plotted and schemed the salty part of the day’s challenge.

RSS news feed Newsletter / Mailing list Contact us

Fortunately, excursions to the Outer Hebrides aren’t made or broken by the weather…for dour folk, the Hebrideans are weather optimists: whatever comes next, it won’t be the same twice. Very like the sport. After grouse, the odd snipe or passing plover, and a whatever the collective noun is for 3 salmonid species, we’d stretched FlyBe’s weight limit with kit and headed north.

All I can say is we didn’t see snow. There were plenty of coveys – Scottish National Heritage‘s commitment to mink trapping real seems to be paying off with groups of 5 or 6 replacing the twos and threes of previous seasons (turn numbers are on the up, too). The wind was determined to make its presence a factor: moments of absolute stillness, broken by the midges, had the dogs befuddled by lack of scent. A couple of hours later, and we had birds out-racing Superman and needed elastic for our hats. In between, we managed some excellent shooting, bagging braces of birds in great condition.

The variety of fishing normally offered by the island’s lochs, burns and rivers from boat and shore was supplemented by the challenge of a generous wind. It provided some excellent gifts (two minutes of video of our man in the Hebrides clinging to a rock by his prehensile Northern toes, fishing all the while…priceless), and plenty of brown trout. Their larger cousins rolled at the occasional fly, but stayed warm and wet out of the wind.

Well worth it for the sighting of a sea eagle and a peregrine sharing the same sky, not to mention stags, seals and numerous golden eagles, we still have a couple of spaces for walked up woodcock for this season, and are booking up fast for next year’s grouse over pointers. Get in touch and go wild.

RSS news feed Newsletter / Mailing list Contact us

My erstwhile fishing buddy Tony and I grabbed a day off between walked up days on the grouse moor to fish one of Yorkshire’s premiere rivers, the Wharfe. Taking local advice from the gents clothing shop in Grassington, we rocked up at The Tennant Arms at 9:30 and joined the queue at the bar. The spit and sawdust fishing bar was populated by similarly attired folk checking leaders and flies before the Kilnsey Angling Club’s secretary distributed beats.

Having been issued the Netherside Beat and a stunning map of the fishing waters (almost frameable it is so nice), we made our way out onto the water. There were a few fish rising to pale olives, so being the purists we are we both stuck appropriate dryflies on the end of our leaders (mine was an olive Klinkhammer) and waded out. I was fishing with my Orvis Zero Gravity 5 weight. Tony was fishing with his spaniel Tom. Needless to say, Tom and Tony had the first fish, a lovely 10″ brownie.

While the water was pretty low, and (as it should be) the colour of Yorkshire beer, we still bagged 10 fish between the two of us from 4″ to 1.5lbs in 5 hours of concentrated fishing. Wherever I travel, I pack a rod or two, and slope off to find fishable water. No. 2 claims that I would fish in a dog bowl if it was the only available wet. So no matter where you are headed, business or pleasure, if you fancy an evening’s fluff flicking or a day’s sport fishing, get in touch. I’m bound to know someone with water and sport to spare.

RSS news feed Newsletter / Mailing list Contact us