Fishing in Ireland, fly tying, trout fishing, wetfly

Western Lakes Dabbler

Here is a dabbler pattern I created some years ago to use during the mayfly hatch on Lough Carra. It’s proved to be a consistent killer and has taken trout from the other lakes too, so I can vouch for its effectiveness.

A calm start to a day on Lough Carra

I used to keep a boat at Moorehall on Lough Carra and enjoyed some great fishing on that lovely water but these days the fishing on Carra has deteriorated to the point where I no longer leave a boat there. It’s easy for me to get a loan of a boat on any of the local lakes so I fish Carra occasionally these days when I hear the trout are rising. 

Carra has long been famous as a lake with a massive hatch of mayfly. Sadly, there are fewer and fewer mayfly each season now but the fish still respond to a well fished artificial. I prefer Carra on a day of big winds when large waves roll the length of the lake. Big winds seem to stir the bigger trout in my experience. This pattern was designed to be fished in just such conditions.

Tying silk: brown

Hook: heavy wet fly, size 8

Tails: Cock Pheasant tail fibres, about half-a-dozen

Rib: thick brown silk. I use rod whipping silk which has a nice colour and is very strong.

Body: natural seals fur

Body Hackle: a dark red game cock hackle, palmered

Shoulder hackle: a grey partridge dyed golden olive or yellow

Cloak: well marked bronze mallard tied all round

As you can see, this is a simple dabbler style pattern and it is easy to tie. To my eye the natural seals fur is an excellent match to the ivory coloured body of the naturals. The trout certainly approve and it has been a very consistent pattern over the 20 odd years I and my friends have been using it.

The natural fur
Heavy rod wrapping thread for the rib
Tapered dubbed body

I recommend that you fish this fly as part of a three fly team. It has caught me trout in all positions on the leader but if pressed I would put it on the tail in preference to the droppers. Many times I have boated trout on a wide range of patterns on the same drift, so exact copies are not usually required in a big wave. The secret is to find the fish where they are feeding and this is not always easy. Experience plays a large part in finding the trout but you cover a lot of water in a big wind so keep flogging away safe in the knowledge you are going to cover fish somewhere on your drifts.

The only drawback with this pattern is the weakness of the pheasant tail fibres. These break off easily and the resulting tail-less fly is not effective. Try replacing the pheasant tail fibres with some moose main hair – it is much tougher and longer lasting.

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Fishing in Ireland, salmon fishing, sea angling, sea trout fishing, trout fishing

Why do we go fishing?

Many anglers and writers have addressed this question over the years but I thought I would chip in with my own thoughts on the matter. People who have never fished frequently fail to see what all the fuss is about and it can be hard for us anglers to articulate exactly what we see in our sport. The image of the dedicated angler, alone on the bank in all weathers, usually catching nothing or at best the occasional slimy, smelly fish are firmly stuck in the national consciousness. Anglers are seen as either working class coarse anglers, all maggots and flat caps or toffs with split cane rods and garbed in Barbour jackets. I personally don’t know anybody who fits either of those outdated stereotypes!

For me, fishing is about communing with the natural world. Being part of the natural order. Immersing oneself totally in a world older than our own. As a kid I used to think it was all about catching fish, bent rods and screaming reels. A blank day was a disaster and I fished very hard to avoid the ignominy of returning home fishless. The basic hunter gatherer was near the surface with me and I really loved the actual ‘catching’ part of the sport. That excitement when a good fish took the fly or bait was like a drug to me and the long, seemingly empty hours between those hallowed moments were the price I had to pay. Yet just under the surface there was an altogether deeper set of emotions which kept me returning to the river or sea. A longing to be immersed in nature. I strongly suspect this is a key driver in many fishers so let us examine this in greater detail.

the Claddy river before the dam

There are lots of pursuits which take us humans back into the natural world. Some of us live in the countryside either through choice or birth. Other work in the great outdoors, making their living on the seas or from the very land itself. For these people the countryside is the backdrop to their every day, they cannot help but be immersed in the ever-changing dramas of the natural world. For the rest of us, time in the countryside is usually at a premium. Let’s just take a moment to let that sink in – modern life has moved the vast majority of us humans into towns and cities and away from the natural world. We possibly experience nature more through the medium of television rather than first hand. Watching David Attenborough may be highly entertaining and informative but it cannot replace actually feeling the full force of nature. Angling brings us back to nature.

The recent upsurge in ‘urban’ fishing is to be applauded as it provides an introduction to angling for countless thousands of predominately younger, city dwelling anglers. I have never been drop-shotting on an industrial canal but it does look like fun. A world removed from my playgrounds like Lough Conn or the small spate rivers of western Ireland maybe but if it encourages young people to pick up a rod and try to catch a fish then it is no bad thing in my book. Does this negate my argument that it is the interface with nature that attract us to the water’s edge? I don’t think so as there is a common thread here – the water itself. Be it a rushing mountain stream or a concrete channel through an industrial estate, if there are fish swimming in it the water will always keep us anglers coming back. That natural element and all its mysteries is a world we only barely understand. The lives of our quarry and all the small creatures therein fascinate us. Nature, it’s all about nature.

There needs to be an acknowledgement that actually catching something is a huge driver when it comes to getting out of a warm bed in the early hours to brave inclement weather. A bent rod is always in the thoughts of any angler, that glorious moment when battle is joined with a good fish. The scenery suddenly fades when you set the hook, the glories of the natural world take a back seat until the fish is safely in the net. Yes, the catch is part of the picture. I am guessing that most anglers were mad to catch fish as youngsters and as the years roll by the need to catch a fish at any cost diminishes somewhat. Possibly the competition anglers buck this trend as they live for catching more than the other guys, but the majority of us lose that edge, that necessity of bringing the corpse of a fish home with us.

this one was around 7 pounds

A coloured fish about to go back

The advent of C&R shows us that the catch is not the main driver for us anglers. We still spend huge sums of hard-earned cash on the latest tackle, travel inordinate distances, brave inclement weather and then return any fish we do happen to catch back to the water unharmed. That all sounds like a definition of madness! Yet the basics of being a part of nature remain the same. The assault on our senses which accompany every fishing trip combine to provide experiences which resonate with something deep inside us. The push of a swollen river in spate, the high, blue skies of August, mysterious tangled vegetation, the stars shimmering over an October beach or the Atlantic swell under the keel. Evocative sights, sounds and smells which connect us with a common past, long-lost but still remembered.

Doo Lough

Of course there is more to it than just the reconnection with nature. The company of good friends, the craik, learning new skills, the joys of boat-handling and all the myriad other facets of our sport are part of the mix. You could sum it up by saying ‘its complicated’.

Boats at Cushlough

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Fishing in Ireland, fly tying, trout fishing, wetfly

Blae and Black

There are some flies in every angler’s box that they have next to total faith in. Those ‘fail-me-never’ patterns we reach for either when nothing else is working or specific conditions demand their use. A big brown Murrough late at night in July on Lough Carra, a size 14 wet Wickhams fancy in a fast run when I have failed to match the hatch during an evening rise, a red-headed Silver Dabbler when the trout are on pin fry………….. the list goes on. Near the top of my list is a small fly we all know but may not realise its effectiveness – the Blae and Black. Let’s take a closer look at this unassuming wee fly.

I believe the Blae and Black is a Scottish pattern by birth. ‘Blae’ to we Scots means a flat grey colour which perfectly describes the shade of the wings. Just like the ‘Mallard’, ‘Grouse’ or ‘Teal’ series of flies there is an extensive range of ‘Blae’ winged patterns but none ever reached the levels of popularity of the Blae and Black. An old fly, over the years it has been used and abused by generations of us anglers. The original is still the best in my opinion but there are many options for changing this fly. Here is a breakdown of how it should be tied.

The Hook

Most writers seem to suggest the Blae and Black can be tied on hooks ranging in size from 10 to 14. I beg to differ about this. For me the Blae and Black is always a small pattern, size 16 is by far the best in my humble opinion. A 14 has produced a smattering of trout for me over the years but it is a size 16 (or smaller) which mainly does the business for me. With such a small hook you need to think carefully about the hook design. On waters where the fish are small you can get away with lighter wire hooks but this is dangerous where bigger trout might be encountered. I personally use heavyweight size 16’s for this fly.

Back in Scotland the Blae and Black was often tied on wee doubles and bloody effective they were too! Early season outings on lochs and reservoirs would inevitably see me fishing this pattern if there were dark buzzers hatching. I never see them being used here in Ireland but there is no reason why tiny size 16 doubles would not work. I would not dream of using wee doubles where there are populations of small trout or worse still salmon parr/smolts. The wee double bites deep and should only be used where you expect good sized trout. The nice thing about the double hooked fly is its ability to sink quickly. That alone can make the difference some days.

The Tail

A wisp of red on this well chewed size 18

On the original fly the red tail was made from fibres of a red feather taken from a Scarlet Ibis, Eudocimus Ruber. These gorgeous birds inhabit coastal regions in South America. The trade in Ibis feathers has long gone and instead we now use a few fibres of swan or goose dyed scarlet instead. I have a dislike for ibis subs which are too ‘pinky’ in shade, I want a strong, vibrant red for the tail. While it is easy to dye some white feathers yourself the cost of a packet of dyed goose is only  a few cents. the same material is used for the tails on a huge range of traditional wet flies too.

A Scarlet ibis. Like so many other rare and beautiful birds they were shot so their feathers could be used for making ladies hats and as a by product they found their way into Victorian flies.

Another option for the tail is a short length of floss silk dyed red. Modern tyers also take this one step further and use Glo-brite no. 4 floss to form the tail.

 

The Rib

the silver wire rib tied in at the hook bend

You have a couple of options for the rib, either fine oval silver tinsel or silver wire. I am a huge fan of oval silver tinsel usually but for this pattern I generally favour the fine silver wire instead. It just ‘looks’ better to me on the very small hooks. An important point is to make sure you wind the wire rib counter to the direction of the floss silk wraps of the body. This makes sure the rib sits on top of the floss and doesn’t dig into to it.

The Body

I guess you could use a lot of different materials to form the body but I stick to the old traditional floss silk. I like the shiny nature of the silk and it makes a nice slim body, just like the buzzers the fly represents. If your floss is too thick then split it down, you don’t want a bulky body lads! Floss used to be made from raw silk and older tyers may have a spool or two of the real stuff still in their kit. These days rayon floss is the one you buy and it is just as shiny as the real silk.

The Hackle

a small dyed black hen hackle, just the job!

Cock or hen? That is the question. Me, I  personally plump for a hen hackle but I will concede this is purely a personal preference and that the fish probably don’t give two hoots.

Winding the hackle before the wings are applied is the norm but I sometimes tie the fly with the hackle wound in front of the wings and it looks good. I insist on winding the hackle, none of your ‘beard hackles here please. Don’t go overboard when winding the hackle, a couple of turns is ideal.

 

The Wings

Starling. For me it has to be starling. Other options include Jay (lighter and difficult to work with) or Waterhen (darker but still look good).

Now do you tie the wings inside or out? By this I mean do the wings have the shiny side facing outwards or inwards? For me there is no right or wrong way and I tie both.

 

Variations

Where do I start!

  1. Add a small red fur thorax
  2. Make the wings out of a pair of pure white hackle tips
  3. Use tippets for the tail instead of the ibis subs
  4. Add a pair of tiny Jungle cock as cheeks
  5. Use gold wire for the rib instead of silver
  6. Swap the black hen hackle for a badger hackle

Blae and Silver

A small red thorax tied under the wings

The list goes on but each one just takes you further away from the original and best version. The Blae and Silver is the same fly but with a solid silver tinsel body. Then again you can veer off into the world of Saltoun’s with ginger hackles.

As I said earlier, there is a whole range of blae-winged flies to tie. Different coloured bodies and hackles produce flies for a wide range of occasions. Probably the Blae and Silver is the most common. I’ve caught trout on a Blae and Ginger before now too.

How to fish the Blae and Black

One of the beauties of this fly is its sheer versatility. It works on rivers as well as on still waters and it can be very effective when any of the small black naturals are hatching or falling on to the water. When occupying a position on a wet fly leader I prefer to place it on the tail. However, I have found over the years that this is a fly which works best on its own on the end of a light cast. Cast to rising fish and twitched back ever-so-slowly it can be absolutely deadly. Another trick is to cast directly into the rings of a rising trout and do nothing, just let the fly sink. You will be amazed how often the line will suddenly straighten and a trout is on the end.The temptation to start pulling the line back through the rings needs to be suppressed as the delay between the fly landing in the water and that glorious instant when the line tightens can be quite long

In these days of mop flies the art of applying a pair of tiny starling wings to a size 16 wet fly may seem like too much trouble to master but I can assure you it will be worth the effort.

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dryfly, Fishing in Ireland, fly tying, trout fishing

A sedge for Lough Mask

I recently tied up a small dry sedge pattern for one of the lads. Think this is one of the late Rod Tye’s patterns. It looks good and I will make a few for my own fly box too.

The fly has deer hair wings and tails with a black fur abdomen. Rib is red wire and the thorax is red fur with a bit of flash through it. Body hackle is short fibred black cock and a red game cock is wound over the thorax. All of this is on a size 12 hook.

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Fishing in Ireland, salmon fishing, trolling, trout fishing

Oddball baits

I own a ridiculous number of old baits, most of which will, in all probability, never see the water. They dangle from racks on the walls of my fishing den, jostle for position in numerous tackle boxes or lie sedately on the bench awaiting refurbishment. Plain silver or gold ones, brassy and coppery ones, multi-hued creations or bright flourescent ones, they are all somewhere in my fishing collection.  I confess that just have too many lures and not enough time to try them all out. The vast majority of them are your bog-standard Toby and Rapalas, but there are a few oddballs kicking around in my collection. For those of you who share my passion for slivers of old metal and plastic here are some of yesterday’s baits that you may not be familiar with.

Tommy

The Tommy spoon is an unusual shape with a wee ‘lug’ on the end of one side which the hook is attached too. This off-centre attachment makes it wobble around in an unusual fashion, one which generations of fish must have found attractive as ABU manufactured and sold this spoon for a long time last century. They made the Tommy over a period of about 30 years from what I can gather which suggests to me that it must have been a productive bait for the anglers who invested in them.

Like so many other spoon baits the Tommy is scaled on one side. Does this make a difference? We will never know but the idea of mimicking fish scales appears to us to be a good move. It catches anglers even if it does not fool the fish. Manufacturers stamp the scales on the convex side of spoons for some reason. All Tommy spoons that I have seen also sport a thin red or orange strip along one edge on the concave side. ABU obviously thought this added to they spoons fish catching ability as they used it on a number of their products.

That off-centre wobbling motion could suggest an injured fish to predators. ABU made the Tommy in a wide range of sizes and colours, including the tiny ‘Lill’ version which weighed in at a paltry 7 grams. ABU made Lill versions of a host of different lures over the years, mainly for targeting smaller species like perch and trout. I have one only of the Lill Tommy versions in silver and gold. It is a bit knocked about but what else can you expect for a lure which is at least forty years old? I can’t recall having ever tried this one out in anger- maybe next year…………..

Then there is the big copper Tommy which came to me sans hook, sans swivel, sans everything except for the spoon itself, liberally coated in a layer of grime. Once cleaned up and re-armed it looks good and it should tempt the odd Pike on a frosty late autumn morning. My 30 gram copper one is at least 50 years old! I like the idea that it will still catch the occasional fish after half-a-century.

 

Torsjo (also marketed as the Daffy in America)

With its orange ‘fins’ on each edge this is an instantly recognisable spoon made by ABU. To me it looks like a very old design. I can’t imagine some hip young fella on his PC drawing the crazy outline of the Torsjo on a CAD programme. Was this spoon supposed to look like a small flat fish? Who can tell? The ‘fins’ on the edges don’t seem to impart any particular action that I can see but perhaps they act as some sort of stabilizer.

The Torsjo first made an appearance way back in 1949 and ran right through until 1972 when it was discontinued.

I have one all silver Torsjo which weighs in at 15 grams. Given its age, it is in good condition. My issue with this spoon is what is it supposed to be used for? I guess it would tempt a grilse but I am not 100% sure what else would grab it. If it was heavier I would use it in salty water but at 15 grams it is a tad too light for that craik. Sudden revelation: would the Torsjo be any good spinning for sea trout in estuaries? I am used to trying longer, thinner and heavier baits like the ABU Krill when spinning for estuary sea trout but maybe the Torsjo is an alternative?

An interesting aside is the influence of the Torsjo on the legendary Toby design. When ABU started to make prototype Toby spoons (or the Tobis as it was then called) the lure did not have those distinctive little fins on the rear of the bait. The designers were not happy with the lures action in the water and someone had the idea the ‘fins’ on the Torsjo might be a clue to stabilising the Tobis as it was retrieved. Small fins were added and an improvement was seen immediately, so after some further tweaking the pair of fins became one of the instantly recognisable features of the Toby for generations to come.

Fins on a Toby, inspired by the Torsjo!

Then one day while on holiday I was mooching around a supermarket in Poland. I was supposed to follow the carefully written shopping list but I stumbled upon a whole aisle dedicated to fishing tackle, so I ditched the shopping list and got down to a closer inspection of what was on offer. Surprise, surprise – on a rack of metal lures made by a company called ‘POLSPING’ I spotted a copper coloured spoon named the CEFAL. Was this a copy of the old ABU Torsjo?

On the same rack there was another copper bait which looked like a skinny ABU ‘Tylo’, this one being called a PERKOZ. These baits are equipped with strong split rings and good quality VMC treble hooks. The only issue I have with them is they do not come with a swivel but it is only the work of a few minutes to add barrel swivels to them. After parting with a few more zlotys, both of these baits were in my basket, starting the long journey which would see them tried out on the Conn next season.

 

 

Pep

Looking somewhat like a Toby spoon the Pep had a short and undistinguished life. Stamped out of thick metal, the Pep looks like it should be a good catcher but I have yet to hook a damn thing on them! I suspect that this lack of success on the end of angler’s lines translates quickly to poor repeat sales and lures which are ineffective don’t last too long. We fishers see our baits as vital items in our armoury which we lovingly look after and consider. To the hard-headed business people who manufacture fishing tackle each SKU must generate a profit. The Pep fell short when it came to catching fish and this led to its demise.

Both of my examples weigh in at 18 grams which I would have thought was the most popular size for a bait like this. One is gold and the other one is silver and each has a lick of red paint on one edge and blue or green on the other. I am toying with the idea of trying the Pep for Mackerel since they are not too fussy when it comes to baits. I’d like to catch something (anything) on a Pep!

 

 

 

Hogbom

Now this is a real odd-bod! Manufactured in Sweden by another company the licence was bought by ABU back in the 1940’s. I understand the lure was designed for use on the famous River Morrum in southern Sweden by an engineer named Mr. Hogbom. The bold Mr. Hogbom created a lure unlike any other that I have seen. The folded metal body is roughly fish-shaped. There is up-tilted, flat, angled ‘tail’ gives the lure its action. ABU dropped them for many years then they made a comeback between the mid-sixties and 1976 when they disappeared for good. I only have one of these strange baits, a gold pre-ABU one which weighs 20 grams.

If the Hogbom was designed for use on the Morrum it was made to be attractive to salmon and sea trout – and big ones at that! The river Morrum has a global reputation for big salmonids as any online search will show. Photos and videos abound of massive sea-trout and gigantic salmon caught there. What interests me is the way the treble hook is attached to the Hogbom if it was being cast in front of these huge fish. A piece of stainless steel wire passes through the middle of the bait, out of sight for most of its length. Maybe I worry too much but I would like to see that vital couple of inches of wire are in perfect condition before I chuck it at a fish of a lifetime!

The treble hook on  my Hogbom is dressed with a rakish looking orange hackle. It softens the otherwise hard lines of the Hogbom. Other examples I have seen are adorned with only bare hooks.

The question is does it work? Disappointingly it has failed to produce the goods so far but I will keep giving it an occasional swim.

 

 

Morrum Spinner

While we are talking about the legendary river Morrum I will show you my only example of the ABU Morrum Spinner. I love these mad-looking baits! The unusual head which acts as a keel is placed in front of the spinner blade on a separate piece of wire. Behind that are a set of beads which form the main body of the lure. The problem I have with the Morrum spinner is that it tangles when casting. Maybe this is a function of my bad technique or maybe it is a function of the articulated nature of the lure. It is so unlike any other lure in my box that it catches my eye every time I lift the lid. Trolled behind the boat it has only tempted small Pike so far.


 

 

 

Glimmy

Ah, the Glimmy! I really like these old spoons and snap them up if I ever see them for sale. A very old lure, they are hard to find these days which is a shame as they are mighty fish producers. The smallest ones are fatally attractive to perch for some reason so on a very slow day I clip a Lill-Glimmy on and run the boat over one of the noted spots for perch. It almost always produces a bend in the rod for me!

The first Glimmy’s appeared in 1951 and back then they came in only two sizes, a meaty 30 gram version and whopper of a spoon that weighed in at an impressive 38 grams. These early examples were both the same length (90mm), just stamped out of different thicknesses of metal.

Years passed and ABU expanded the range of sizes to include the 18 gram and 12 gram Glimmy. These ones are both a nice size for salmon trolling, so if you are keen on that branch of the sport look out for Glimmy spoons and give them a try. These are not easy to find as ABU only made the 18 and 12 gram Glimmy for three years from 1973 until 1976. Those nice wee Lill-Glimmy’s can be as old as 1952! I’m currently looking out for a gold Lill Glimmy as my last example wedged itself on the bottom of lough Conn a couple of seasons ago. The gold coloured ones seem to be particularly effective.

A pair of silver lill Glimmy spoons

 

 

Facette

I only have one of these spoons and it probably takes up the space of a more useful lure if I am honest. Angular in shape, they do have a lively action in the water. My sole example was once black in colour but it is faded now to a marled grey. The outside sports some sort of a reflective material. I got my hands on this spoon just to see what it was like on the end of the line and it does hop around a fair bit when trolled at even a slow speed. Unfortunately the fish seem to be seriously unimpressed with the Facette, or at least with the flashy 18 gram one that I own.

Originally released on to the market in the 1950’s this spoon came in the standard 7/12/18 gram formats but it vanished again at some point in the 1960’s. I think I am right in saying that the Facette then re-appeared back in the late 1970’s. Now it was clad on one side in the reflective tape like my one. With that added bling it looked like a ‘70s lure. I think of it as the Morris Ital of the lure world. It is pretty much crap!

Morris Ital 1.3 HL

 

Safir

a bit worn maybe but they still work just fine

The Safir was a small spoon which ABU made during the period from the late 1940’s through to the end of the 1950’s. I have only ever seen them in 7gr and 10gr weights but maybe they produced bigger ones for all I know. The lads in southern Sweden seem to have had a problem deciding on the colour scheme for these wee spoons as they came in a wide range of variations, most (but not all) had a red or orange painted inner side. The convex face could be silver, copper or gold or some were a mix of different metallic colours.

That 10 gram silver/copper Safir in the photo above can be accurately dated because the weight is stamped on it below the word ‘Sweden’. This was only done by the factory in 1957 apparently.

So are they any good? The Safir is a bit on the small side for most of my fishing so they tend to lead a quiet life, snuggled into a compartment of a big tackle box. On the rare occasions I snap one on to the end of a trace they have brought in Perch and jack Pike. Nice wee spoons though………….

7 gram silver/gold Safir

 

Plankton

Closely akin to the Safir  is another ABU spoon, the Plankton. Deeply concave and semi-scaled, this spoon has a great action in the water. During its 30 year life the Plankton went through remarkably few changes to the colour. The basic silvers and coppers are available in the 7gm, 12gm and 20gm sizes and are still for sale on the secondhand market these days. I have only recently acquired some 12’s and 20’s for my box but one of them is a lovely silver and copper which looks great in coloured water. I’ll try them for Pike, confident that they should do the business.

trio-of-planktons.jpg

Not sure about the BG coloured one I own, I’ve never been a fan of that Bluegill pattern for some reason.

a pair of 20 gram silver Planktons

 

ABU-draget

These are an old design which A.B.Urfabriken introduced around the end of the second world war. With ABU stamped on the top of the convex surface we fishers of a certain vintage have grown up simply calling this one the ‘ABU spoon’. I only possess a copper 15 gram and a silver 20 gram but it came in a wide range of colours and some were even equipped with an additional treble at the head end too.

The ABU-draget has a lovely slow, rolling action in the water. The 15 gram size measures about 50mm, a fine size for summer salmon.

Production of the ABU-draget ended in 1975 and this unimposing little spoon was consigned to history. I like this one though and I keep an eye out for them on the secondhand market. I’d like to find a 20 gram copper version – I’s suspect it could be a killer!

 

 

Barramundi Mauler

Always a sucker for a good name, I had to buy one of these when I came across it. Marketed in Australia (hence the name) this a well-made plug, one which should stand up to a lot of punishment. I have never tangled with a Barramundi but I’m guessing they are tough customers which can destroy poorly made baits. This is another deep diver and it came equipped with stout treble hooks and hefty split rings for battling big, aggressive fish.

Similar to a lot of other plugs already ensconced in my tackle bag, it may be just the lure to give me a salmon someday. Then again, maybe it won’t. Great name though!

 

 

Risto Rap

The hot Alabama sun beats down on the lily pad fringed pond where the old angler is flipping his bait out. It catches the rays of the sun as it sails 20 yards through the moist air before landing with a resounding ‘plop’. The snapping turtle watches him from the sunken log it is hiding behind as the short baitcasting rod twitches during the retrieve. Small Bluegills and crappies shoal in the shallows, constantly moving as they search for food while keeping an eye out for their enemy – the largemouth bass. The angler fans his precise casts out to cover the deep water, sweat on his brow under the weathered John Deere baseball cap. Just as he thinks he is wasting his time the rod slams over into a sharp bend and battle is joined with a stubby four pounder. The Risto Rap has worked again.

That is how and where I image Rapala’s Risto Rap was supposed to work. I expect it was made with the American Bass fishing market in mind. It sports a gargantuan front lip to push the buoyant bait down to about 8 feet below the surface. My own one is a nice, flashy chrome example. Rapala stopped making them a while ago and they are hard to find these days.

I was looking around for a plug to dive that bit deeper when I came across the Risto Rap. Drop offs have always fascinated me and the thought that big fish are lurking in the black water just over the edge from the shallows sends shivers up my spine. I wanted a plug to troll deeply in that zone and I figured the Risto Rap was worth a try. Watch this space………………………..

 

 

Landa Lukki

Fancy a change from tossing Toby spoons? Then look out for Landa Lukki spoons. Made in UK in the late 70’ and 80’s these were good copies of the famous Swedish Toby. They work too! The best news is that you can find them easily on the second-hand market where they change hands for very little money. I recently bought half-a-dozen perfectly good Lukkis for less than a Euro each.

Sizes are similar to the Toby but the colour range is restricted to the basics. Lukki spoons with slashed sides, marketed as ‘Lukki Turbo’ can also be found out there. These can bend easily under pressure so check them if you have to free them from rocks or other stickers on the bottom. If they are out of shape simply bend them back again and carry on fishing.

As a side note, Landa used to make a really nice bait called the ‘Herring’. Now this did not look much to the untrained eye but by jingo they slaughtered Pollock and Mackerel. I have lost all the ones I used to own bar one tiny wee gold specimen which is too small to fish in the sea. I keep looking for more of them but with no luck so far.

 

All of the lures (even the Pep) will catch a fish on their day. Trolling can be a boring pastime so swapping baits helps to liven up an otherwise quiet day. The ABU spoons in particular were very well made baits. High quality metals must have been used in their construction because they have lasted so well.

I am a late comer to trolling and it will always be my second choice when fishing Lough Conn. On those days when the fly is not going to be effective, such as flat calm and brilliant sunshine, I turn to the trolling rods and trail the ironmongery behind the boat for a while. Using these old baits adds something to an otherwise boring day. If you left me to fish with only a single 18 gram silver and copper Toby I strongly suspect I’d still catch the same number of salmon but the enjoyment of a day cannot always be measured simply by the number of fish. When a silvery salmon grabs that oddly shaped few grams of metal, stamped out on a press in a factory in southern Sweden decades ago, I feel a tingle inside. Oddballs are good in my book.

On the troll

 

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dryfly, trout fishing, wetfly

Memory lane

So, the flying visit to Scotland is over and I am back in Ireland once again. The catch up with family and friends now over, I can reflect on the last couple of days. The weather was pretty terrible on the journey north but the East of Scotland basked in lovely near summer conditions for the rest of the weekend. Aberdeen looked well in the sunshine, its granite sparkling for a change (it can look very dull on a cold, grey day). Saturday was spent in the relaxing company of family but on Sunday I found myself in Inverurie.

As a boy I learned a lot of my angling skills on the borough waters here on the rivers Don and Urie. A lifetime has passed since those far of days and the town of Inverurie has changed out of all recognition. The once sleepy country village has now become a bustling commuter town for Aberdeen, replete with the usual trappings of the change in status such as industrial parks and shopping centres.

Shallow water above the bridge

Lunch in a garden centre restaurant over, I drove down to the Urie to see how the river has fared in the intervening years. Back in the day I would catch the first country bus from the city every Saturday morning to Inverurie. Dropped off on the main street, clad in waders and smelly fishing coat, I’d wait for the tackle shop to open so I could buy a permit. A few shillings changed hands and I would march off back down the main street, bound for the Urie. I almost always followed the same plan, start on the Urie and fish down the where it meets the Don, hopefully just as the main hatch got under way. I’d then fish the dry fly and work my way upstream on the Don. Slinging small spinners under overhanging trees and bushes. Eyes glued to the red tip of a float, a worm in contortions three feet below. Learning to cast a fly, learning to choose the right pattern, learning to wade without slithering on the weeds and going over the top of my boots. Warm coke and dry sandwiches for lunch.

The bridge pool on the Urie

Tackle back then consisted of a nine-and-a-half foot glass fly rod, a short spinning rod and a bag full of everything from a tin of worms to tiny dry flies. Early in the morning I’d fish the pools and runs with spiders, casting ‘around the clock’. On days when that didn’t work the tin of worms came out and I would search the deeper pools. I was never much of a bait fisherman and the eels which were so common back then seemed to be my usual catch as I recall. I never had enough worms with me. The tiny square of poor earth which passed for a garden at the back of our council house yielded only a handful of tiny wrigglers that I dug between the scrawny lettuces. Often I was reduced to turning over stones on the river bank to augment the contents of the bait tin during the fishing.

If my bait ran out I’d turn to spinning tiny Mepps or metal minnows but even at a young age I realised this was too easy. Flicked upstream and wound back over the fish’s heads, these lures virtually always caught me a trout or two.

an old box of tiny spinners dating from my youth

My selective memory lulls me into believing there was always a hatch around lunchtime. I’m sure there must have been days when the empherids didn’t appear but that is beyond my recall. The bridge pool was my favourite spot on the Urie and I have many happy memories of exciting times casting to rising trout as the olives and iron blues hatched out in April and May.

I parked beside the graveyard on Sunday. Already I could see the changes with more human interventions on the side of the road than there used to be. New houses and businesses were there and an ominous sign which said something about no access. I ignored it of course. Walking up to the bridge over the river was a strange experience, the years weighing heavily on me. Over the parapet I peered and there below was the river, wider than I had remembered it and very low for the time of year. It looked decidedly fishy, running clear over still lush, verdant weeds and brown olive gravel. I was instantly transported back to a more innocent time, a time when feeling the tug of a half-pounder was all I lived for. A time when the very idea of being anywhere other than here in the North East was simply impossible to comprehend. An altogether simpler time.

The golds and reds of the autumn leaves reflected the waning years of my own life. Growth and vigour have been replaced with introspection and reflection. I (hopefully) reach 60 next spring, battle scarred and weather worn. Lessons learned but still largely clueless about this world which seems hell bent on self-destruction. Fishing, the common thread woven through the very fabric of my existence, kept me sane through the dark days and nourished my soul in ways no religion ever could. I hold places like the bridge pool on the Urie very dear.

I never did catch any monsters from the bridge pool, a few pounders sprinkled among a host of lesser fish was my lot. That didn’t matter to me back then because it was a consistent spot. If I was going to catch a fish anywhere on that river the chances were it would come out of that pool. These days I would fish it in the gloaming of a late spring evening when the spinners return to lay their eggs and the better trout come out of hiding to feed, but back then the last bus home would have long departed by then! My love of motorbikes which freed me from the bonds of the bus timetable unfortunately coincided with my burgeoning attraction to the opposite sex and so the banks of the Urie were swapped for the bright lights and blandishments of the city. I could have become an expert fisher instead of a mediocre Lothario. Ah well………………..

I snapped a couple of photos then took my leave. Maybe next year I might come back with a feather-light carbon wand and spend an hour casting on this nice piece of water for old-time sake. More likely, I will spend far too much money on a beat of the Dee chasing elusive salmon and catch nothing! It was a relief to see my old haunt was not yet succumbed to the relentless march of progress just yet. Who knows what the next few years will hold though?

The path along the bank is a new feature, it was a lot more overgrown in my youth

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Fishing in Ireland, fly tying, trout fishing, wetfly

Yellow Green Peter

I have written about this pattern before but since it has been working well on Lough Mask this year I thought I would give it another mention.

Looking towards Mamtrasna

looking out over the deep water on Lough Mask

An easy fly to tie, most experienced Irish tyers will have the materials in their collection of fur and feathers. No special techniques are required either, the only thing to watch out for is leaving sufficient space at the head for the wings, legs and had hackle. Now, let’s press on with the details.

Hook sizes I would recommend are 10’s and 12’s but if you take a notion to make some on bigger or smaller sizes they might do the job too. For tying silk I have often use brown in size 8/0 but this is a pattern which may benefit from using that lovely Fire Orange silk instead. I will leave this detail up to you.

Starting the silk at the eye and run it down to the point where the body will start, say about a third of the way down the hook shank. Here you catch in a prepared red game cock hackle, dull side facing upwards.

The body hackle has been tied in, now keep running the silk towards the bend and catch in the rib

Keep winding the silk down the hook shank, catching in a length of fine oval gold tinsel on the way. Stop the silk opposite the barb of the hook (if it has one!) and dub on some light claret fur, sufficient to form a tag of perhaps 3 turns. Once that is wound on dub the tying silk with the fur which will make up the body of the fly. This is pea green seal’s fur with a small pinch flash dubbing mixed through.

light claret for the tag

Don’t over do the flash

tie down the body hackle with the rib

I make the wings from paired slips of hen pheasant secondary wing feathers which I have dyed yellow. Keep these low down over the back of the fly. I have used slips from the tail feather of the same bird (also dyed yellow) when I could not lay my hands on the secondaries.

A bag of Hen Pheasant dyed yellow

Next I add some legs on each side of the fly. These are made out of knotted cock pheasant tail fibres and they extend to about half the length of the fly past the bend.

The tricky part – getting the wings just right!

legs next

Finally, tie in a wind the head hackle. Use a grizzle cock hackle dyed yellow. I have a favourite cape for this, an old Indian cock cape of poor quality. It is soft and the dark bars are indistinct, making it pretty much useless for dry flies. I dyed it a dull yellow by adding the merest touch of golden olive to the yellow dye to the bath. I don’t want a vibrant, buttercup yellow for this pattern, the shade is muted and the markings faint. This is very much a case where those of you who dye their own feathers will be at an advantage. Those who don’t will need to rummage about in those bins of ‘seconds’ at fly tying fairs!

soft golden yellow grizzle hackles

A neat head followed by a whip finish is all that is now required before you snip off the waste end of the tying silk.

This is a fly which works well over the deeps on Lough Mask. I confess that I am not a big fan of this way of trout fishing but it is effective and anglers who persevere bring in good bags of fish some days. It seems the brown trout shoal in deep water, feasting on daphnia. Sinking lines are used to get to the right depth (the clouds of daphnia rise or fall depending on light levels) and the anglers who work on finding the right depth as well as the right patterns will be more successful.

The Yellow Green Peter works on any position on the leader and is a reliable performer from June onwards until the end of the season in September. I have used it to fool trout on Lough Conn too and I suspect it could deliver the goods on Scottish lochs.

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