Category: Fishing reports


Today the weather was lovely and, having I a little time on my hands, I decided to pay my first visit of the year to the Río Guadalhorce to see if I could open my account with the gypsy barbel. The river was looking lovely and was running reasonably clear but after an overnight frost I figured things might be a little slow.

I walked a good stretch of the bank before I saw a fish. Unfortunately it had seen me too and drifted off to deeper water. There were a few fish around but they didn´t seem to have much time for me. You need thick skin for this business and I try not to take these things personally! A few turtles dropped into the water on the opposite bank, a task they accomplish do with remarkably little grace. Most things that live in water seem to be able to move into or through through this medium with some degree of elegance but this is not true of turtles. If you disturb them when they are sunning themselves on the bank they launch themselves into the river and invariably hit the water in a clumsy belly flop. Continue reading

I spent a good spell yesterday stalking fish along a pretty exposed section of the Río Grande.  It was pretty tough going. The sky was overcast and on my bank there was almost no cover and so I was forced to stand well away from the river to avoid breaking the skyline. To make matters worse there was a pretty steady downstream wind with gusts strong enough to blow my hat off.

All of these things – the overcast skies, the strong wind and the scarcity of cover mean that you really have your work cut out for you. I realised this even as I was tackling up at the car but fishing is just one of those things. I will always sign the consent form regardless of what is written in small print! Continue reading

I guess that the Scottish rugby supporters might have felt they were in for a long afternoon on Saturday. The All Blacks were in Murrayfield and Scotland, like Ireland, has never beaten them.

This game was on the telly and I figured I might squeeze in an hour or so on the river before kick off and, if the fishing was good, I could even give the game a miss. In the end I caught the second half, not because the fishing was slow, but because the daylight gave out on me.

We have had a bit of rain recently and I didn´t know if the river might be carrying too much colour to fish well. Sure enough it was a little coloured and the level had risen just enough to open up shallows in the margins for the carp to explore. They were in and among the plants that had, only a week ago, been ankle deep. Continue reading

Off with you!

An odd thing happened today. Catriona said “why don´t you head out to the river? It´s a lovely day. I bet the fishing would be good!” In our house this kind of thing is pretty much unheard of. My hours at the riverside are stolen and often there is a price to be paid later. And yet today golden time was bequeathed to me by my better half!

It was only as I was heading towards the Guadalhorce that I began to figure the motivation behind my wife´s magnanimous gesture. Today was an afternoon of international rugby fixtures and there was beer in the fridge. Suggesting that a fishing trip was on the cards was a cunning strategy to secure the telly and preventing the old man from sequestering the sofa and generally making a nuisance of himself. I have to take my hat off to that woman. Like they say, she wasn´t born yesterday! Continue reading

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

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