Category: Fish and fishing


Yesterday was the last day of October, Halloween, and in the morning I found myself sitting on a hotel balcony in Marbella reading Fly Fishing and Fly Tying Monthly. And then the thought dawned on me that there were going to be a few hours before I was needed by anybody and if I had any brains I could get out to the river fool around fly fishing myself rather than just read about it.

I rang Mark McCann to see if he fancied a stint on the river but, in an appalling lapse of judgement, he said he would spend some quality time with his wife rather than take a spontaneous fishing trip. Of course the fishing gods were pretty pissed off with him and pulled a few strings to make sure he would regret his decision. Imagine wanting to spend time with your wife! Whatever was he thinking of? So the gods tinkered with the fundamental laws of nature, pulled a few strings here and there and, more or less, rigged things so that the river would fish exceptionally well. Continue reading

Yesterday I went off to Concepción Reservoir with Mark McCann. I will say nothing about the fishing because it was pretty awful. The fish were not hanging around in the place they were supposed to be and we didn´t land anything except a carp which was foul hooked. This fish decided against ingesting the woolly bugger in the conventional manner but decided to head butt the thing instead!

What was interesting was not the fishing, but the mud. Mark and I sank into this stuff to varying degrees and Mark got himself stuck at one point and needed to be helped to extricate himself from its grip.

I was the unlikely hero of this drama and when I met Mark´s wife Nicola later in the evening she greeted me as the heroic rescuer of her betrothed. She said she owed me and insisted in rewarding me with a gift of the equivalent value to her husband. That turned out to be a pint of lager! Continue reading

Every now and then I have a bit of time to myself and I realised on Friday that nobody had any particular plans for Saturday, or at least any plans involving me. The folks at home wanted a day to just chill and they gave me their blessing to disappear to the river for a dose of hydrotherapy. No sooner said than done!

The weather has begun to change as it does each year at around this time and some recent heavy downpours have breathed some life into the river.

It can be quite surprising how these changes seem to affect the distribution of the fish. I carefully stalked the summer hotspots but found them largely devoid of fish and it seemed I would have to go back to the drawing board.

Fortunately there were a few fish around and I took a couple of gipsies on nymphs in the first hour or so before things went a little quiet. Wild boar have been roaming along the river bank and it was quite something to stalk the banks and realise that my foot prints were joining the tracks of these heavy animals which busily forage the river banks while we sleep. Continue reading

I have never seen Concepción reservoir so empty and was amazed to see, on my arrival, the exposed sediment of its floor. I suppose I ought not to have been surprised. The low levels were reported in an article published this week in the local press and which featured photos of ghost buildings which had emerged after years of immersion.

It seems that recent rains have done little to reverse the loss of water and the Río Verde which feeds the reservoir has cut a long channel through her floor and now empties its turbid water the best part of two kilometers from the position of its “old” estuary when the reservoir is full. Continue reading

It is now a little year since Norman Smith showed me a nice stretch of the Guadalhorce. He asked me not to publicise it and, out of respect for his wishes, I will say little beyond the fact that it is a little way off the beaten track. It was November when we visited this particular stretch and there were fish in the margins. We saw a few carp, some nice ones too, and even managed to catch a couple.

I visited this part of the river again yesterday evening and it seemed well out of sorts. Some guy I met on here earlier in the summer told me that the river had been polluted some way upstream and a local goat herder had seen a lot of dead barbel and carp on the surface a few days previously. It certainly seemed yesterday as though many of the fish were gone. Continue reading

Yesterday evening my son Leo and I went off to the river to see if we might be able to catch a carp. Leo has accepted an offer to study Management at the University of York and will be off within a month. He may well join a fly fishing club if the university has one. If not there is always squash, the gym, or the swimming club (he is eyeing up the University´s 50m breast stroke record and is our school´s record holder for this distance.) Personally, I would advise him to sing in a band. He has a great voice. Girls always seem to have the hots for the lead singers of bands. If I were young and single and was not the owner of a voice box like that of a frog in a swamp I know what I would do!

Continue reading

My wife unexpectedly suggested yesterday evening that I wander off to the river for the last couple of hours of daylight. The alternative was sitting around watching Doctor Who on the telly and so I jumped at the chance. I was also keen to see if the curse of Madonna, which had destroyed my fishing prospects in the morning, had finally been lifted.

I decided to fish the reach of the river closest to home, very close to the confluence of the Guadalhorce and the now largely dry Río Grande. I was hoping for a carp and knew of a good pool where I had seen them in the past. I was hoping also that the last hour of light might have them throw caution to the wind and settle down to feed and, sure enough, there were several fish stationed at the head of the silt trails which indicate that the carp are not only present but are feeding.

I managed to catch one of these carp and it was a beautiful strong fish. This carp was quite preoccupied with feeding and was doing that curious “mud shuffle” motion where it rocked from side to side,  its upper back sometimes coming clear of the water. Continue reading

I tend to use the car radio as a predictor of the quality of the fishing. If Kiss FM comes up with a string of decent tunes I feel confident that the fish will be biting and things are going to pan out just fine.

Today I slapped on the radio and out came Material Girl by Madonna. I should have just done a U turn there and then.

“Some boys kiss me, some boys hug me
I think they’re O.K.
If they don’t give me proper credit
I just walk away”

For Christ´s sake, what a load of crap! Continue reading

Yesterday evening turned out to be as good as I could have asked for. The shadows were lengthening when I got to the river and I figured on about and hour and a half or so of decent fishing light.

August seems to be the month for carp on the Guadalhorce. I remember making much the same observation last year. The barbel resolutely refused to play ball and, even in shallow runs where they will often grab at a passing nymph, they were nervous and inclined to scatter when the fly landed in the water. Barbel can be like this and so I left them alone and wandered off to see if there were any carp about. Continue reading

Sometimes it is difficult to decide how to use the morning you may have gone to some lengths to secure for the purposes of fly fishing. Initially, I had it in mind on that I might fish for bass from the float tube, particularly given that the forecast was for very hot weather and having the lower part of your body immersed in a reservoir is a pretty effective way to prevent over heating.

But in the end it was the river that won out, as it so often does, and the prospect of some gipsy barbel or, if I was lucky, some carp. Continue reading