Got a knotty fly-fishing problem? Drop our agony uncle a line.
DARON PARTON
Dear Doc Tangle,
I'm based in Kent and fish for Atlantic salmon in Scotland whenever I can get up there. The trouble is keeping my two-handed casting sharp the rest of the year, with no salmon water within sensible reach.
I've been wondering whether bass on the fly could double as practice. Would a switch or short Spey rod fished for bass off my local shingle beaches or in the estuaries give me transferable casting and line-handling work, or are the demands different enough that I'd just be drilling in bad habits for the river?
If it's a question worth airing, I suspect there are plenty of southern-based salmon anglers in the same boat. Finn Mullen, UK
THERE IS nothing wrong with a cast in the salt to keep the muscle memory in trim for your next outing after the king of fish.
However, I think it would be a mistake to view the pursuit of shoreline bass as merely a substitute for its nobler cousin. The fish and their coastal environment deserve a proper respect in their own right.
I don't think that you should worry about picking up bad habits or deficiencies in technique. However, the undertaking is not without its risks.
I was brought up on an estuary and my childhood was full of finger-wagging lectures about sluices, dykes and tides and chilling stories of relatives and antecedents who had come to sticky ends through their lack of due regard for the dangers of rocks, mud, undertows and shifting sands.
First things first: know where you are going to fish, check when you need to get back and understand how your route might be impacted by the changing tide.
This is angling, after all, so once you start there are no boundaries
It is not the case that all tides arrive at the pace of a galloping horse, but narrow channels do fill awfully quick — what you can step across on the way out may be a major obstacle on the way home. Think of the Findhorn in spate or the Falls of Dochart after a wet weekend; except a tidal estuary is twice a day, every day, never at the same time, higher and lower and sooner or later depending on the wind direction and the state of the moon. It's a serious business.
Having said which, a spot of reconnaissance will see you right and discreet enquiries will probably guide you to the likely spots. Just don't ask local anglers, though, or you'll find yourself casting into a puddle across the road from the phone box because the natives tend to be a bit guarded about such information.
A Scandi rig will suffice, I venture, but a full-fat fifteen-footer will also work if you can find a spot on a groyne, breakwater or spit where the current is accessible. A floating set-up is all that's required with a handful of lures of varying weights to adjust the depth at which you are fishing as necessary.
I'm no expert in the field, but word is that Poppers and Gurglers, Clousers and Deceivers in white and yellow or chartreuse, briskly retrieved, jigged or stripped are the way to go. But this is angling, after all, so once you start there are no boundaries.
What works, works — and there's an end to it.
Word to the wise, though: salt water will play havoc with the mechanisms of reels. It won't do much for your line either. Or the reel seat. Or your rod rings, for that matter. So, a rigorous wash-down after every outing is necessary; or use gear that may be looking at relegation from top-flight freshwater work.
Or equip yourself with a complete set of coastal bass gear. It bears repeating: this is angling. And as every angler knows, the fish on the sharp end is not the only thing that gets itself hooked.
Dear Doc,
I should like to first confess to being a rather inexperienced and inept fisherman. My greatest achievement to date was to haul in a tope shark on a snapper rod in the Bay of Islands. I’m not sure which of us was more surprised. But I digress. My modest boot room at home now features more hazards than a Gazan tunnel as a result of my poorly stored fishing equipment. I live in constant dread of the next shriek of pain as some innocent person looking for a light bulb or shoe polish impales a digit on a hook or the howl of a dog whose bum has found a breakout sinker in its bed. And as for extricating the cat from the Shimano, well let’s just say that the vet had to cancel his tee time that afternoon.
So please, Doc, may I have your advice on how I should create efficient storage for what my wife calls my “fishing junk” before she consigns it to the skip and cites it in divorce proceedings?
Andy Burn, UK
AH, THE perils of accumulation!
However, it is the lot — and, indeed, the obligation — of the angler to make the best of bad situations and to turn adversity into opportunity. It occurs to me that there is a way out of your predicament that you might find both appropriate and agreeable.
What is required to bring some order to the prevailing chaos is a boxing and stacking system. I can recommend the one adopted by my late father, who was similarly threatened when one of the Dachshunds became overly familiar with his heavily fly-laden fishing hat.
While that vet may also have missed his weekend round, he was certainly able to buy a new set of irons with what he charged for that extraction, to ease his pain.
What you need are boxes which can be used to render your angling requisites out of sight and, therefore, out of mind. You can get plastic versions in a wide variety of shapes and sizes from any hardware store, of course, but while they are functional and cheap, they are not attractive.
Better by far are wooden wine carriers for reels, cassettes and lines, and cigar boxes for lures.
One of the Dachshunds became overly familiar with his heavily fly-laden fishing hat
The point though — and this was the old boy's genius — is that both are more easily memorable the further upmarket you go, as well as being increasingly decorative; and, in the case of cigar boxes, fragrant to boot. Plus, you have to empty them first, of course.
I suggest that you adopt a simple filing system. Perhaps reds for salmon kit — Haut Brion, Lafite, Latour, Margaux, Lynch Bages; and white, say, for trout — Pol Roger, Deutz, Moët, Montrachet and Meursault.
Maybe something stronger for your saltwater gear? Ports spring to mind: Warre's, Taylor's, Graham's, Quinta's. Or sherries, of course: Toro Albala, Lustau, Carvalhas, but any of the fortified delights will work as well.
Similarly, the lures can be catalogued by brands and size. Spinners, plugs and tubes — stored loose — need a box with depth and strength such as Cohiba Robustos or the Punch Coronations series while Partagas Lusitanias and Romeo y Julieta Cedros, re-lined with cork, lend themselves better to the smaller salmon doubles in traditional patterns and stillwater nymphs or chalkstream dry-flies.
Rods can be stored in their cases either horizontally or vertically as space and convenience allow, and wading sticks may usefully be confined to an elephant's foot or an old brass howitzer shell case, though these are both best procured these days in fibreglass, the former for conservation reasons and the latter for reduced polishing.
Any competent joiner will be able to install a racking system to accommodate the necessary quantities, and then your tackle can be stacked and shelved till the cows come home and domestic harmony is restored.
By the way, well done on the tope. I'm not above a spot of toping myself, although I have to admit that I prefer a 25-year-old Speyside malt to a great white. But I digress.
Doc Tangle would like to answer your questions. Title them Dear Doc Tangle and send to: thetake@looptackle.se
