A couple of nights back I tied up some flies for black bass. They were as ugly as Cinderella´s sisters and, even worse, there are three of them! Whatever the aesthetic shortcomings of these flies, I doubt it will have much bearing on whether the bass decide to eat them. Bass have history for ingesting any kind of thing when the mood takes them. They are not the wine connaisseurs who will take a tentative sip only after rolling it around in a glass and sniffing it. They don´t even drink wine. They don´t know what it is. It is beer for them and they slug it straight out of the bottle.
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I doubt anybody would suggest that brown trout are among the intellectual giants of the animal kingdom but my brother Sean and I are both prepared to admit that they are a good deal smarter than either of us. It was predominantly the fish of the River Lee, one of Sean´s home rivers, that made us aware of our relative cerebral shortcomings.
Continue readingI have spent a few hours recently stalking barbel and carp at the point where the river Ebro flows into the Embalse del Ebro. This is a beautiful place and I have been fortunate enough to have it all to myself.
Continue readingOnly an idiot would go fishing on a Monday or, for that matter, on a Thursday. Where I am in Cantabria, if the guardia civil caught you in the act of trying to catch a trout in the local section of the Ebro on either of those days they would land you with a fine that would make your head spin.
Continue readingI have just come back from the reservoir at El Chorro where my cunning plan had been to extract a carp from the margins. I´m afraid I have to report (once again!) that I had no success. The last time I fished there I brought a foolish young dog that proceeded to leap into the water and charge up and down the shallows, scaring the hell out of the carp and every other aquatic organism in possession of a nervous system and so my lack of success was not unexpected.
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