The last time Paul Reddish and I were together in the north of Spain he was kind enough to extend an invitation to fish for grayling on a chalk stream back in the UK and, never having caught a grayling or fished on a chalk stream, I would have been crazy not to take him up on his offer.
Continue readingCategory: Flies and fly tying
Solstice Grayling
The trout flies of Cervera de Pisuerga
Paul Reddish and I were in Cervera de Pisuerga the other day, a mountain town in the province of Palencia in northern Spain. We paused briefly on the street to count how many griffon vultures were circling overhead. We more or less agreed on our best guess — twenty-five and then, when we lowered our gaze again to street level, to our surprise, we found ourselves staring straight into the window of a fishing tackle shop.
Continue reading →Sean´s little flies
There is a room in my brother Sean’s house where he can close the door, leave the family and various dogs on the other side, and settle down to tie up some flies. I know the room well—that’s where I sleep when I visit. There’s a single bed with a Munster rugby duvet cover. Sean coaches one of the local Ballincollig rugby teams, and his sons, John and Dan, along with his daughter Nancy, are all club rugby stars. A few feet from the end of my bed, there’s a desk nestled under a skylight, with Sean’s work computer and paraphernalia—and, of much more interest to me—his fly-tying vice.
Continue reading →Catholics in a seaweed bath
Carp and barbel are the kinds of fish whose diet is often described as “catholic” which is probably a word now out of favour, presumably because it might be an exercise in advanced silliness to compare their “catholic” diet with those of other fish which could, presumably be described as “muslim”, “presbyterian”, “hindu”, or “buddhist.”
Continue reading →A little fly for trout
I bumped into a very good fly fisherman on the river and we got to chatting for a little while. He told me that he fished dry flies exclusively and, even though there was no discernible hatch on and no evidence of trout feeding on the surface, that an attractor pattern could bring the trout up. I asked if he would show me what fly he was using and he was kind enough to open his fly box and show row after row of very similar patterns differing mainly in size. Generally those flies were pretty small – no bigger than a size 14 but perhaps mainly 16 or smaller. They each had a post, usually white, but often with some pink or orange added to enhance visibility.
Continue reading →Why flog a dead horse?
My brother Sean and our old angling buddy Mark have just completed their annual pilgrimage to Lough Arrow in search of brown trout. They do this every year but, unfortunately, I am never able to join them for reasons of work and geography. In dribs and drabs they have been sending over information, mainly in the form of Whatsapp messages and emails with attached images and I am piecing together them together. I asked them if I could write a few words about their adventures on this blog and they graciously consented, possibly because they thought that if I said anything they did not approve of nobody would be likely to read it!
Continue reading →Order out of Chaos
My fly box has become a matter of great personal shame and I would be mortified if you, or anyone else, were to look inside it. Mercifully, there is little chance of that happening because it tends to be so well hidden that nobody is likely to come across it. Half of the time I have no idea where the thing is myself!
Continue reading →Exploring the upper Río Ebro
You may have come across a couple of posts here about the town of Reinosa, through which the Río Ebro flows. This town, in the northern province of Cantabria, has become the focus of attention for Catriona and me because we have established a little base here where we can come to stay. After a few short visits we are beginning to get a feel for the place and the countryside surrounding it. It is a good bit cooler up here than back home in Málaga and it will make a fine place to retreat to when the heat of the Andalucían summer really begins to kick in.
Continue reading →Red letter day
The black bass at Concepción can be contrary and moody creatures, given to ignoring whatever we might tie to the end of our lines to tempt them. But yesterday evening, for reasons best known to themselves, they decided that they were going to play ball. Whatever we were offering they were having it, and then some. No questions asked.
Continue reading →It takes two to tango
I just went and tied up three ridiculous flies and have hatched a plan to catch a carp on one tomorrow morning before the rest of the household have stirred from their slumbers. I have a poor record in the reservoir I will visit which is only partly down to my own ineptitude. The carp themselves are not blameless in this unfortunate state of affairs since they truth is that they cannot be relied on to show up and, without them putting in an appearance, all will come to nothing.
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