Archive for May, 2017

The mayfly is up at the moment and everybody in Ireland with half a brain will be out chasing trout. It just has to be done. The best advice for any fisherman at this time of the year is this: divorce your wife if you need to and, if it comes to it, be prepared to abandon your kids. If things are busy at work consider pulling a sickie or, if you have a little business of your own, just stick the “Gone Fishing” sign and get the hell out of there. Continue reading

The biggest fish I have hooked on the Guadalhorce just came off the line after we had been battling it out for fifteen minutes or so. I never saw it but from the dogged and unrelenting nature of  the fight it can only have been a carp. I knew shortly after I had hooked it that it was something out of the ordinary. It had the assurance that big fish have. To be honest, I hooked it without being aware that it had taken my nymph. I had been casting to some barbel that were swimming close to the surface of discoloured water when the nymph sank to the bottom and was hoovered in by the carp. Continue reading

A keeper

Every now and then you catch a fish and, for whatever reason, the circumstances of its capture stick in your mind. I caught a nice fish a couple of hours ago and the little details are all there in front of me. The barbel was duly returned unharmed and is now swimming in the darkness of the nighttime river. Continue reading

Yesterday afternoon I joined my old partner in crime Harry Abbott and David Blair for a few hours on the river. I had been a little worried that the water might not have cleared after recent rain but the river was mending well and was quite fishable although probably not quite at its best. Continue reading

On Saturday I met up with Clive Smith and we had a crack at the barbel on the Río Grande. There have been some heavy rains recently and the Guadalhorce has coloured up and is not yet returned to form. The Río Grande is a more challenging river but at least it was running clear and we had a shot at a few fish in the steadier flows. Continue reading

Nobody seems to know how old Brutus is. Brutus is our dog. Before making a home for himself with us he used to belong to a local farmer. He was probably supposed to act as a kind of guard dog. We used to see him as we walked around the corner and up the hill. He just looked at us with a kind of indifference. Maybe he remembered vaguely that his job was to appear menacing but he was beyond caring. He might have lifted one of the brows above his dark eyes but that would be about it. Continue reading

Most of my barbel are taken on nymphs but they will take a fly if they are up on top and it is a very exciting way to fish for them if ever the opportunity arises. Johan Terblanche and I fished to some barbel recently that were feeding on tiny things in the surface film. Every now and then a fish would station itself and rise pretty steadily. If you managed to drift a fly over a fish like this you were in with a shot. Continue reading