Outside Days » fly fishing

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.

A Cast A Day Keeps the Doctor Away

Howard — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 13:49:10 +0000

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.

Fishing For Red Hot Christmas Gift?

Howard — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 08:00:31 +0000

Are you searching for the perfect gift for the person who has everything? Or maybe, like me, you are trying to help loved ones to buy something you actually WANT and not another pair of socks or the ever-present scarf? Outside Days provides flyfishing lessons for every level of fisherperson, from the complete beginner to someone wishing to refine their double hauling technique.

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.

Devonshire Flyrod McNab: Saltwater

Howard — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 12:01:26 +0000

My fascination with all things saline began early, on what now would be a staycation, but then was a seaside holiday. As saltwater fly fishing has moved from the subtropical bonefish north into temperate waters, I have been able to combine my two passions and reduce No. 2′s irritation with me.

David Pilkington is another convert to a phenomenon I have written about here: bored fly fishermen finding alternative quarry at which to fling fluff…albeit considerably larger dust bunnies. Having failed on the freshwater sections of the Devonshire McNab, we were determined to turn around our fortunes by heading to the sea (not the first Brit to think this would be the making of my adventure). We kitted up in the carpark, surrounded by intrigued walkers and ponies: donning waders and strapping washing up bowls (line trays) to one’s waist caused a sensation among the less fashionably attired. Setting off across the sands to meet the flooding tide, we passed a host of promising looking depressions that would be fish-holding pools on our return journey.

As soon as we reached the water, all our dreams of crystal clear seas were shattered: the swell resembled a tossed salad. Saltwater decorated with rafts of seaweed, driftwood and swirling sand charged up the race to meet the turbulent spate freshwater. Imagine fishing into Realtree camo, and you’ll come close. Double hauling frantically to get the best of the clearer water, it was impossible to tell whether the knock on the end of your line was a fish or a passing pallet. Undetered, we fished on, David watching the incoming sea to make sure we could still beat a hasty retreat to the diminishing beach. After a couple of hours of good effort with nothing to show except improved technique, we accepted defeat, and returned to the welcoming fires of the Arundel Arms where a consolation dinner awaited us.

Clearly, this is not an adventure for the weak of cast, the pessimist, or those afraid to fail. But then what true challenge is? The tides and runs of sea bass and sea trout make this a trip with a limited window of availability. If you fancy having a go, don’t hesitate in getting in touch to secure the best dates.

Reels at Gin-Clear’s Fly Rise

Howard — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 06:45:51 +0000

The downside of the CLA Game Fair is that the most interesting people always seem to cross your path when you are juggling other commitments. When Matt McHugh introduced me to director and producer Nick Reygaert, I had my hands full of Orvis gear. Only later when I logged on to his website and read his blog did I realise what I’d missed

The fly fishing equivalent of Cannes, RISE is the world’s largest fishing film festival and on our doorsteps for the month of November. From exotic locations to big fish, cinematographers have captured the epic passions that drive us back to the water over and over. Don’t believe me? Check out Nick’s equivalent of a trailer on YouTube. I’m overcoming my distaste of the Big Smoke long enough to make the London showings…

Salmon, trout and….tuna?!

Howard — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 11:37:35 +0000

With my son in an Irish boarding school, I have taken to haunting Ireland’s rivers and coast in search of perfect sporting opportunities. We’ve bagged two new jaunts based around Dingle Bay in County Kerry: salmon and trout on the lower stretches of the River Caragh and albacore tuna on the fly offshore.The Upper Caragh appears in the pages of Salmon & Trout on a regular basis, but until this season, the Lower Caragh was a net fishery. And fly fishing for tuna? The skipper caught the European record albacore in 2007 on lures and is absolutely convinced that the piscine champion of the northern seas will take to the fly.

There are no rod records for the Lower Caragh, so short of sticking a wet finger in the wind and guessing, we can only tell you the Upper Caragh records 250-300 salmon a year, and the net fishery was declaring a similar number. The river is dotted with the riffs, ripples and pools that make salmon fishing so exciting. Sea trout and brownies also run in the river, and there are an abundance of sea bass in the sea pool and estuary, making multispecies days a possibility.

For regular readers of these pages, you’ll know I’m easily goaded into non-traditional sporting challenges, egged on and accompanied by Special John, Kayak Nick, Tobias the Pedant and Tony. When I heard the nearby wildlife touring boat turned its hand to a little offshore tuna fishing for a few months a year, I had to challenge the captain. So he’d caught the European record…could he help me and anyone crazy enough to join me tackle tuna on the fly? He’s game…are you?

***there are still a few places for rods on a trip the first week in August to fish the Lower Caragh’s salmon run***

Itchen(or) for Bass on the Fly

Howard — Sun, 12 Oct 2008 17:01:38 +0000

I recently had the pleasure of fishing with fellow Orvis Endorsed Guide Justin Anwyl for his species of choice, sea bass. Justin spends more than 300 days a year taking clients out after bass, and on his days off is frequently found flicking fluff for them himself.Its hard to resist such passion, even when it means hauling yourself out of a warm bed hours before dawn is considering breaking, and making for the coast.

Based at Itchenor in Chichester Harbour, Justin fishes the flooding tide: the incoming water brings sea bass’s favourite snack, juvenile fish. Tying Deceivers and Clousers on the end of 7 weight line, I loaded my 10ft Zero Gravity ready for the off. And once again, I proved a jinx. Justin and I each caught foot long school bass, but the big girls elluded us. Between bass and muntjac, I have decided I must have offended the gods. Trying to placate my wounded ego, Justin reckons saltwater fishing in the UK is very tough and variable. At this time of year, he’d expect to catch the larger fish, while the summer tides are great for school bass in numbers.

To make the best of the saltwater flyfishing opportunities, your casting needs to be up to scratch. If that’s you, feel free to get in touch. If your double hauling needs a bit of a polish, Justin’s shore-based academy is among the best places to learn. The partridge season is well underway (we’re shooting around the odd combine), despite nature’s attempts to throw us off course with bright sunshine and absolutely still days following in the footsteps of howling gales and torrential rain. Now all we need is a bit of autumnal fog and we will have the complete collection. Get in touch for last minute gaps in lines, a mad dash north for grouse, or for the few remaining bargains.

I Canoe Can You? Seabass on the Solent

Howard — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 14:18:42 +0000

According to Ratty, there is nothing more fun than messing about in boats. Well, he was nearly right. Add a fly rod, some bass, and an early morning start and it achieves perfection. Good friend, local ghillie, and all-round piscine guru Nick Richards has decided to share the secret to bass on the fly (he caught more than 300 himself last year): the kayak. No, not an exotic fly of enormous proportions, a flatbottomed canoe. Nick’s fleet of ocean kayaks is stabilised for coastal waters and kitted out for fly fishing.

Kayaks offer the opportunity to follow the fish, enabling Nick to show clients sporting fishing at unusual marks all within the Solent. For the familiars of my blog, you know I am always eager to a.) get someone else’s opinion of a new sport and b.) get one up on Jon. So roping him in as a lab rat was a no-brainer. We set off from Portsmouth seafront at 4am, and the gods were with me. Before we’d gone 500m, Jon was upside down and thoroughly wet. Neither Nick nor I can work out how he’s done it (but then that’s Jon, achieving the impossible) as we’ve tried and couldn’t, no matter how hard we laughed.

This fishing isn’t for beginners: casting with your ass at sea level takes a bit of getting used to. Try sitting on the floor and casting a decent line. Fortunately, sea bass aren’t as skittish as wild brownies. And proficiency at swimming just makes good health and safety sense, even with the life jacket Nick insists on. As for anything challenging, the rewards are great.

The UK shore-caught record for sea bass stands at 19lbs 113/4 oz, achieved from Sandown Pier on the Isle of Wight. From a kayak, the fight might replicate a husky pulling a sleigh, but there is every chance of tackling a double figure fish. My favorite summer snack, mackerel are another common catch. If only they grew bigger, they’d be the king of the sport fish: pound for pound they put up a fantastic fight on the fly.

So if, having practiced your prone casting in the lounge, you fancy having an early morning or late evening go at the bass, drop me an email and I will put you in touch with Nick.