I don't know if you are the same but sometimes you plan a trip and have a feel that the odds might just be against you. I'm one of those who says "to hell with it, I'm going fishing anyway" rather than poking my head out and putting things off until another day. My guess is that if you are reading this then you are probably the same as me and will hit the water no matter what.
It had been a bit like that when I spoke to one of my fishing buddies, Toby. It was the end of October, after that good spell of weather we had been enjoying was forecast to come to an end. The change was a pretty rapid one and the weather guys were saying that the temperature was about to drop about 15 degrees and the barometer was falling like a stone. When Toby and I spoke on the phone we had sort of talked ourselves into the mindset that it was going to be a toughie, but we'd give it a go and see how things played out.
Grayling were to be our target fish as the trout streams had now closed. We could have jumped in my truck and headed to the chalkstreams where we would have a pretty good chance of hooking up with one but we settled for Westcountry grayling. Now, for those who haven't fished for them down here in the South West they are mostly confined to the rivers Exe and Tamar and their tributaries plus a few other little streams that are only whispered about amongst the very closest of fishing friends. Grayling aren't in the rivers in any great numbers and can be quite nomadic but we are suckers for the long shots and if we didn't get lucky we could easily blame the lack of fish on the conditions.
My fishing buddies will probably say that I have an annoying habit of being way too early. I'll suggest a meeting time of 9.30am and they know I'll be there at least 20 minutes before. It is just one of those things I can't help. I think it is still, after all this time, excitement. Luckily my closest fishing friends are used to it and know that 9.30am probably means some time just after 9am. So at ten past nine Toby pulls up. I have fished with Toby long enough that he knows me and just smiled and said " I knew you'd be here".
We decided to fish a stretch I felt I had unfinished business with. I think that list seems to be getting longer and longer but this one was somewhere near the top. I'd fished there earlier in the year and had one of those days where I'd fished pretty well. I'd made the casts, got the drag free drifts, chose the right flies, read the water and brought up the fish. I'd fished that time with Toby too and he couldn't stop laughing at my misfortune as fish after fish came unstuck. Someone once had told me they called it "rubber hook syndrome" and it is a phrase I still use today. I managed to laugh about it too at the time but I did feel like there was a point that needed proving.
We tackled up and pretty much ignored the light rain and lively North Westerly that was blowing in. We were both fishing 3wt rods, mine a 7 ½ footer and Toby an 8ft 4". I like to fish an 8ft 4" 2 wt a lot of the time but there are some tight spots on this river so I thought the shorter rod would be better, plus I'd bought a new 3wt line with a short, heavy head that I thought would be perfect for close up fishing.
It is probably a function of my job and the company I keep but I really enjoy fishing side by side with a fishing friend. If the fishing is good you can take it in turns catching fish and if the fishing isn't so good you can swap ideas and if you have hopefully set up with different flies then if one of you has covered what you both think is a fishy spot and nothing has happened then the other can have a go. If your fishing friend is super competitive then this doesn't always work as well, especially if they are having a day like I had last time I was there! I like to fish this way with a lot of my friends and it can also be fun just to share a rod but make this choice when you see what they are unpacking at the start of the day as one man's favourite stick can be another's nightmare!
The interesting thing is that Toby and I both fish differently. I fish a shortish line with a longish leader and Toby fishes a bit longer with a slightly shorter leader. Both ways work equally well and again when you get to fish with your buddies a lot you know how they will cover a pool. Often it might be a little different from how you see it but it is fun to see how another fisherman's brain is working . I remember one of the first few times I fished with Toby and we shared a rod and I kept reeling in all of what I thought was excess line he'd just used, only for him to pull it all out again when I handed him back the rod. Things like this could test things for some but in our case it makes things both interesting and amusing. We now fish together without even talking about things like that but I know there will be a comment about my leader length before too long.
We headed over to the river and saw that it was low and clear. I would have thought there might have been just a touch of colour after some overnight rain but it was looking good and fishable. We had our usual good natured argument about who was going to fish first and Toby is bigger, so who am I to argue when he said I should go first?
Both of us had rigged up a NZ set up, me with a small black Klinkhammer and size 18 tungsten beaded pheasant tailed nymph and Toby with a slightly bigger Klink and a Copper John. I know there is often debate about whether the dropper being tied to the hook of the dry has potential of putting off fish. I haven't found this a great deal, partly I think, as the Taw where I work always has a slight tinge of colour that might disguise the leader but I have also seen fish in New Zealand confidently take the dry in the most crystal clear of water without beeing spooked by the dropper. I also like that the nymph is in direct contact with the dry so a subtle take can also easily be detected. At the end of the day though a lot of it can be put down to confidence and if you cast out and aren't confident with either your fly or set up, change it. I'll also cut the nymph off if the fish are continually coming for the dry anyway.
I hopped into the river and cast. I'm like a coiled spring as I know I'll get it in the neck if I fluff the first one and thankfully after a short time the dry dips and I have a small grayling on. I wasn't going to miss, I couldn't afford to!
The rain eventually started and the wind blew even more. Some of the casts weren't out of the casting booklet but we were fishing and somesimes have to adapt things to deal with the wind. It wasn't always pretty but we started to pick up a few fish. They were not right on the feed but we felt pretty pleased that depsite everything we were getting our flies where we wanted them and a few grayling were giving them the time of day.
It sounds like a cliche but I looked up and realised we needed to eat. I'm afraid I am not one who believes my body is a temple. It is more of a run down terrace. I like to eat junk when I fish. I work on the basis that I am walking and excercising so I can eat the pork pie and will have worked it off during the day. The only other thing I do make sure is that I do drink water. That having been said, I now find that chest deep wading and too much water can cut into your fishing time, so plan your water intake carefully if you are of a certain age!
After we had sat down, chatted and eaten a pork pie and something Toby had brought that I reckoned had about 3% meat in it, despite what the packaging implied, we also noticed a slight tick up in tempertaure and just around the corner from where we had sat a lone fish rose. The bubble in the rise told us it was a grayling so I sent Toby in to catch it as I didn't want to get in to the river having just drunk a bottle of water. First cast he covered the fish and it was on. Another grayling rose a short distance up from there and then another. As a guide I can't help but analyse things but it seemed that the slight bend in the river had sheltered the pool from the wind and the black gnats slowly coming off had triggered the fish to rise.
Toby had a couple and gallantly offered me the spot. I managed one and then it went quiet again as it can often do at that time of year. It can all be over in a matter of moments and this was the perfect example. We decided to keep our dries on as we headed upstream and despite us bumping a couple of fish we tied the nymphs back on as we headed downstream. We wanted to start at the lower stretch in the morning but a herd of cows had stopped us from doing so but now they had left it was all ours.
I walked wide of the pool and upstream as I wanted to try and get a photo of Toby in action. He briefly had what looked like a hog of a grayling but it came off before I could get there. He didn't curse, it was just one of those things. I didn't try and console him either, there's no point. He just fired out another cast and hooked another one. Still a nice fish but not as big as the one he had been briefly attached to. He reckoned there was a small pod in a deep spot under a tree and after I lost one there I reckon he was right. That is one of the features of Westcountry grayling. Firstly there aren't many and as a result of this you don't get big pods, often just the odd fish, or possibly a couple. On a chalkstream you might be hooking one and then trying to get it out of the way so that it doesn't spook the rest of the pod. Down here you just enjoy and savour every one. It seemed like the right time to stop so we did.
So there it is. It might have looked like it it was going to be a toughie but we stuck at it, dealt with the wind and managed a few. What is the old saying about your chances improving if your fly is in the water?
Toby runs Funky Fly Tying specialising in offering high quality fly tying materials