There are a number of reasons for my radio silence of late, with fewer blog entries than I’d prefer… forgive me and I promise you it was well worth the wait! Pressures of work are actually a privilege in these times and there are so many exciting things happening in London as we shift fully into spring.
I have been looking forward to this bank holiday weekend to further educate myself on Thames River fishing… Before I continue I would like to say a massive ‘Thank You’ to my Wife for being so understanding and supportive of my crazed antics… Late nights and early mornings at the vice developing an ironic, collaborative relationship between the furs of the Arctic Fox, Hares and Rabbits, topped off with bead chain eyes. What about my incessant gazing into “dirty” waters each night as we take our evening strolls? Your support is much appreciated my Darling, from the depths of my heart.
Saturday’s tides allowed me to time low water perfectly – whilst I’m not yet clever enough to know when the best times actually are, one of the major constraints of fly fishing in populated areas is the back cast. I have no desire to hook a human or one of their best friends, so I check behind me almost every cast, and low tides give me space to walk away from passers by.
I explored the dry riverbed and scanned the shallows for baitfish as I made my way towards a spot I’ve wondered about for at least seven years. Conditions were perfect… Blank day! Not one bite. Only fish seen was one dead elver approximately 25 cm long and the width of my finger, lying in the shallows of a rock pool.
Elver trapped at low tide, perfect meal for a wandering heron, a seagull, or possibly a fox?
Yesterday was equally challenging, with low tide at 20h10… I fished for about three hours until 20h00. Not one bite. Only fish seen was a 4lb bream in a bad way, floating on its side past me in the current. It looked as though it had been caught and released by some angler upstream. I tried to keep it moving towards the current and deeper water, it mustered the energy to wiggle off into the darker water. My second consecutive blank day – no one said this was going to be easy!
Today I worked on a theme that I came up with whilst designing saltwater crab imitations. Using my much cherished, recently received rotary vice, I discovered how to tie furs and hairs in one plane, creating all manner of shapes and opportunities for legs, pincers and eyes. I took that knowledge into a streamer pattern that produces a similar effect to the matuka style flies famous in New Zealand. I realised that two tone flies with fibres that are extremely soft (rabbit and hare fur is more durable than marabou) are almost too good to be true in the water, especially when tweaked and skipped through a current.
At lunchtime I ran along the Thames at high tide, planning my last venture before tomorrow’s work routine kicks back in. I formulated my game plan, spent some quality time drinking tea with my Wife and watching the world go by, then down to the beach at 18h00. My casting has improved (as it should, given this many blank days!) and I made extra effort to get back to the basics. I treated every cast with my full attention, varying the speed and depth of my fly, trying my utmost to squeeze every ounce of fishing experience into every presentation. Not one bite!
I do not give up easily… Especially when surrounded by Nature. Sunset over the Thames on a clear evening is a unique experience and I marvelled at how time seemed to have stood still. Fast flowing water is fairly easy to read. When the water level is constantly in a state of flux, this new layer of complexity makes it tricky. At 19h30 I was still about 90 mins from low tide, and the shoreline was changing shape rapidly. I decided to cast into the wind to some almost imperceptible rises on the seam between the main channel and the slacker water in a bay slightly upstream of where I stood. My reasoning was that if baby perch are sipping morsels at the surface, my fly may attract one of their worst enemies:
It simply does not get better than this… Unless you’re thinking what I’m thinking – Salmon?
I cannot find words tonight to describe how truly phenomenal it was seeing the first flash of silver, with those brilliantly defined spots, so I’ll let the pictures finish up for now. These are pictures of my camera’s screen as I need to wait until the weekend to download my original pictures. This is history in the making. If anyone tells you the Thames is dead, show them this!
anadromous salmo trutta up close and personal. Length = 53.4cm 6th May 2013 19h30 90 mins before low tide
I returned this beauty back into the river – it is a wild environment and we need to do everything we can to help all the birds, fish and animals that live here.
Thanks for reading, please come back soon!
metiefly 