My good friend and colleague, Lewis Hendrie, takes a look at one of his most favourite quarry, the grayling.
Over the years my passion for fly fishing has grown and grown, and as I have progressed as a fisherman, along with the changes of modern day techniques and fishing equipment it's allowed me to seek new challenges to feed my addiction on the fly.
I am a huge fan of scoping out new waters and venturing off far and wide into the unknown. So much so I have had the privilege of walking the rivers of New Zealand, Australia, America and all over Europe.
But although I have had some of the best and most memorable experiences abroad that have made for great fishing stories to share with my fishing buddies, I can’t help but realise how great the fishing is in our own backyard of the UK. Admittedly the ratio of people to the size of the country is a bit cramped at times but it's very easy to take what's on offer here for granted. As I discovered during the 2014 season.
I have always associated New Zealand as the ‘Big Trout’ mecca of the world and in my opinion it still holds that deserved title. But let's face it, travelling half way across the world on a 24hr+ flight isn't something we can just plan overnight.
So I set myself the challenge of going in search of larger than average trout and man was I blown away with what I found right here in the UK and in places I previously would not have expected.
But that will have to wait for another time as, this time of year is all about a certain type of lady that swims elegantly in our streams and rivers, ‘the grayling”.
The Winter/Spring period is one of my favourite times of the year, as those cold crisp mornings and evenings start to thaw away and temperatures start to rise, with the daylight just starting to hold out a little long each evening and those early blooming flowers just starting to creep out, it's a little bit magical to me.
An indication of the trout season within our sights means not long now until Pete and I will be in full swing guiding and teaching many keen people wanting to share, or have a taste of our lovely sport.
But the appeal of winter fly fishing for me, that I love so much, is the silence on the rivers. Stood in the water surrounded by mist rising off the surface and watching the hot steam float away off your breath, whilst the sound of the flow is the only sound you can hear makes it all seem worthwhile, not being able to feel your toes or fingers from the cool temperatures. But the bigger picture is what lies beneath the surface of the water.
A very special, yet once unappreciated, fish that boasts both its colours and its unique dorsal fin. This fish has earn its name as ’the lady of the stream’. It's no wonder we see social media getting inundated with pictures of these beautiful fish.
It almost seems hard to believe that this much loved species of the salmon and trout family, was once considered a pest in our waterways and was culled by many southern rivers, in an attempt to eradicate them.
Offering us fishing during the once closed season for game fishing and giving many new to river fishermen a great introduction into catching fish, I have nothing but respect for these magnificent fish.
Some people will associate grayling with being too easy to catch, or even stupid. But those of you who have put the time into grayling fishing will know that it's far from true. Yes admittedly on a good day when the fish are hungry and are feeding hard they can be very forgiving to a poorly presented fly or will even, at times, carry on feeding after being pricked by your fly and you can get a second chance but the instinct of all nature is to survive and eat when hungry or not to be picky when food is scarce.
But when grayling receive a high amount of fishing pressure or grow to large sizes, they can become one of the most stubborn, fussy and hardest to catch fish you will come across. To the point it has cost me blank days whilst in search of specimen grayling.
During the start of the year I decided to set myself a number of realistic New Years' resolutions: some of the classics that we can all relate too, such as save more money, spend more time with family, get out fishing more and so on. But the first on my bucket list was “go in search of specimen grayling”.
So off I went in search of one of my favourite fish. With a bit of luck of stable weather and good clarity water, I made three successful trips out to the river and was absolutely blown away with the results.
Knowing that big 3lb+ grayling are hard to come by (3lb+ fish in the UK are pretty rare but they can be caught with a bit of research on location and the right techniques to catch them) you have to be open minded as even if you do find them, you are still a long way from a guaranteed hook up. Selective can be an understatement with these wise old fish. So I never get overly confident or take it for granted when I get the opportunity.
One of the most recent trips, I set out with my close friend James, who had yet to see a fish bigger that 2lb, so as part of his late christmas present we set out to get his PB.
Driving to the river we did the usual fisherman’s trait of sharing fishing stories of recent catches and just engaged in deep conversation about new fishing toys we wanted to get and so on.
Arriving at the river the conditions were looking promising with good light and just a slight breeze in the air. The vibes were good, we both rushed into our waders and started to set up the rods. But I don’t think poor James had realised what he had let himself in for. Unfortunately with me being me, I love to capture the moments and memories we experience in fly fishing as that is truly what I go fishing for. So being a keen photographer and videographer I asked James to tackle down and start again so that I could document the day. (a bit of a curse for those of us that just want to get out fishing).
"James can you just do this?" "Oh, just freeze in that position for a second.” As he patiently helped me frame each shot.
Eventually we made it out to the river and off we went.
Fishing for 25 minutes for a take James managed to land a nice fish of about 1lb and whilst playing the fish a very big fish spooked out the back end of the pool. (Typical of big fish always sitting in the margins all on edge and out-witting you in more situations than not.)
We carried on up stream but things seemed pretty quite. Getting to a favourite pool of mine, I snuck up quietly and started to cast a few casts in and the leader stopped up and I struck. It felt pretty heavy but strangely it then started rattling as if it were a small grayling. As it drifted alongside me I got a glimpse of the fish and it in fact was a much bigger fish than I had first anticipated, around the 3lb mark. I was so surprised it almost didn't register.
So like a fool I made the schoolboy error of trying to reach for my camera out of my backpack mid fight. The fish started jumping (which isn't common for big grayling in the UK but it does happen) and with that the hook slipped. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" I can't believe I had even attempted such a stupid move.
James tried lifting my spirits back up with comforting words but I was just angry at myself as I should have known better.
Moving on we fished hard and carefully for a few small grayling and a bunch of really small shots (which are always great to see in the river and a promising sign of a health river where the fish can reproduce successfully).
A few hours had passed and things were a little quiet, not seeing much or getting much of a response to the flies. I decided to get out on the bank and walk upstream to see if I could get a better vantage point on spotting anything.
Walking far too quick up to the river's edge, a huge shadow bolted out in front of me. I think it was just as surprised as I was. This was a serious grayling. But like all the big wise grayling that swim the rivers, it meant game over at getting a shot at this fella today.
By now the sun had dropped in the sky meaning that visibility wasn't great from a spotting point of view. This could have played a pretty major factor in why the fishing had been so quiet and so hard all morning, as bright clear skies and the low winter sun meant our shadows were broadcast right the way up the river and anyone who fishes this time of year knows that the low sun can be a nightmare for that.
After a quick coffee and a good chat, James and I decided it could be worth a stroll back downstream to run back through the water we fished earlier that day.
Getting back downstream I gave James the rod and first call on the pool as I had fished it earlier that day, so it was only fair and polite to return the favour.
It didn't take long for James' indicator to twitch and the rod bent over. I could see by the bend in the rod that it was a nice fish.
Getting side on in the powerful current the fish started to take line and was headed for a big snag downstream of us. I quickly shouted to James to get below and regain control of the fish. With that James sped past me and managed to guide it over to the slack water. With a quick scoop the fish was in the safety of the net.
A beautiful grayling weighing just over 2lb on the scales.
"Your turn" Said James."You'll probably catch a bigger one now."
I laughed and got my serious face on. This pool looked too good to be true and I had a feeling there was something big lurking in the bottom of it.
I started casting. Feeling my point fly bouncing along the bottom I knew I was getting down, so it was just a case of getting the right drift.
As my flies tracked back for about the fifth time I felt a slight tap. with no hesitation I struck into it. The rod flexed and just froze as if my flies had snagged up in a weed bed.
I applied more pressure to try and free them and almost out of nowhere the rod started pulling away. This felt really big. But didn't feel like a grayling; I couldn't feel that typical rolling or head thumping that grayling do. It just held solid and pulled away with sheer power. This had to be a salmon or big brown.
I turned to James. "Oh no, I've hooked a salmon." Part of me wanted to believe this was a grayling. But it couldn't be, this was a salmon fight. A few more minutes of trying to gain some ground on the fish as it repeatedly dragged me back out across the river then back into the deep pool.
There is no chance I'm landing this, especially with the 2lb tippet I was using. Helplessly holding on and hoping for a bit of lady luck to go my way, so I could get my flies back, I played out this game of 'tug of war’.
I could see a large silhouette gliding along deep in the water which convinced me this was a salmon. Another few minutes passed and I started to make leeway. I could feel the fish tiring and giving in with my attempt to lift it in the water.
As I was lifting it came up and turned on the surface. "Oh my god, it's a grayling mate, it's a huge bloody grayling."
Back down it went. All of a sudden panic set in as this was no longer a situation where I didn’t mind losing what I had thought was once a salmon.
"Please don’t throw the hook, let me land it."
Up it came and before I had time to think I just netted and the fish was in.
Shaking like a leaf and laughing with joy, James started laughing at me.
We were both laughing and shocked with the size of this truly awesome grayling.
This wasn't my PB but this fish had taken us so much by surprise and fought so hard that it made the moment so special, and it's moments like this that we never forget.
Out came the camera and Salter scales. After carefully weighing the fish multiple times. It set dead on 3lb 4oz.
Taking a moment to get the fish safely returned and to get over the moment and float back to reality, James got ready to have his next go.
Two casts later and James had another fish of about a pound.
My turn again. Moving slightly further up I started casting. Slowly matching the undercurrent. The indicator stopped. Another big grayling. All I kept thinking is, ‘This is what dreams are made of’.
This one came to the net a bit easier. A stunning, but very plump grayling. Both thinking this couldn't be far off being another 3lber it only seemed fit and right to call it a day and leave it on a good note.
It's not about numbers of fish for me. More about sharing an amazing day out with good friends and getting lost in the moments whilst being surrounded by Mother Nature's beauty.
I think it's safe to say us fly fishers are so lucky to have found a passion that takes us to the places we go and build such a strong bond and life long friendships with the people we share it with. I for one don’t know where I’d be without fly fishing.