It is not only the extent to which fish move and when that is surprising, but also the speeds at which they move. Twelve-hour round-trips of six and eight kilometres by bream are startling enough, but the speeds of other fish – and especially the speeds of small fish relative to the speeds of large – can leave the portly bream standing.
Whereas a metre-long adult salmon can swim at better than two metres a second for hours and days on end – a formidable feat of strength and endurance – tracking has shown that salmon smolts a sixth of that length can sustain close on half a metre a second without difficulty. River lampreys have been recorded travelling 10 kilometres a night upstream, against a steady current – a distance and speed many would find surprising in a fully grown sea-trout.
What does it all amount to for the angler on the bank? In the case of swimming speeds, probably not much, other than to cause him or her to marvel yet again at the wonders of nature. In the case of in-river migration, it will be to cause anglers to see coarse fish in a new way – and to encourage them to be more adventurous in their choices of swim as daylight fades and each season progresses.
Fish movements also throw two of angling’s most commonly heard statements into a new light. The fact that a fishless day for one angler is followed by a night of frenzied action for another in the same place might not be simply because ‘fish come on at night’ – a well-known saw – but because a hitherto fishless swim has had travelling fish come into it.
And the heartfelt ‘there are no bloody fish in this bloody swim’ might sometimes not only be an excuse of a kind but that rarest commodity in angling – the truth.
I AGONISED over my first fly-rod. I was a wholly self-taught fisherman and, when I became interested in the sport, I had no-one to guide me. So, like countless others, I went to a tackle shop to seek advice. This was not a local tackle shop, because I did not have one. This was a big, posh tackle shop in a big city.
The staff saw me coming. I ended up paying far more than I should have for a big-name rod that in the event, was an indifferent performer. It is a trap that newcomers especially can fall into. Every beginner would benefit from independent advice on what rod, reel and line to buy. Here is some.
A FEW years ago I went to buy a new fly-rod. I did not need a new rod – I have accumulated more rods than you could shake a wading stick at – but I had convinced myself I needed one. All anglers, I know, will have sympathy with this sensation. Perceived Tackle Deficit Disorder (PTDD) is a kind of medical condition and tackle shops are the places where it is treated.
I went to a well-known store and told the dealer what I wanted – a fast-actioned, 9ft five-weight. He listened sympathetically and made soothing noises. Then he turned to a glass case behind him, opened it with a key and lifted out a 9ft wand. Naturally, this was not any old fast-actioned, 9ft five-weight, he explained. This was the Dollar-Sign Flabbergast fast-actioned, 9ft five-weight. It looked fabulous. It was made of deep-green carbon fibre and was wonderfully varnished. It had lots of gilt lettering on the butt and the kind of maker’s name that evokes candles and incense.
The Dollar-sign Flabbergast – the dealer turned and angled it so that it flashed in the light – was made of the latest High-Modulus, High-Five Technology. It provided faster back-loading of the thingy than any rod before it. In tests, five spindles of torque had been achieved. This rod was practically guaranteed to improve my casting distance by 50 per cent and my Accuracy Quotient Factor (AQF) by very nearly the same.
How much did it cost and where could I try it, I asked? Naturally, the dealer inferred, a rod like the Dollar-Sign Flabbergast did not come cheap but I was clearly a man who not only appreciated the best but would positively demand it.
Yes, but the price? The figure he mentioned sounded like the distance to Mars. Outside, the rod cast like a piece of wet string. Caveat emptor can be as good advice in the fishing business as it is in the motor trade – especially at the start of a new season. Then, spring is in the air, cuckoos are on the wing and the air is filled with the song of tackle-dealers pushing wheelbarrows to their banks.
When choosing tackle it is essential to keep function in mind, above all. The principal job of rods, reels, lines and the rest are to help an angler put his fly where he wants it and to handle effectively any fish hooked as a result. Many an angler buys tackle for other reasons – for example, assumed status – but among the sensible the ability to do the job required, comes first. The truth is that many a lowly priced outfit will do that as well as some top-priced kit, though the actual rods may appear much the same.
A fly fisherman on small streams will want a rod in the 7ft to 8ft range, carrying maybe a 4-weight line. An angler tackling larger rivers and many stillwaters will want something between 8ft and 9ft 6ins, carrying 5-weight to 7-weight lines. For some lake fishing and angling for sea trout, rods of up to 10ft or a little more carrying lines up to 8-weight or so, will be useful.
Large numbers of rods for all these purposes are priced at astronomical levels while entire and wholly serviceable outfits – rods, reels, lines, leaders and flies together – can be bought for a third of their price. The two rods I use for virtually all my own stream and lake fishing cost £120 apiece in 1990 – a fraction of top prices, even then – yet they have had the users of rods costing four times as much gasp at the silken ease with which each puts out a line. My favourite loch-style rod cost me £25 second-hand and its original owner £70 new. When, in the mid-1990s I wanted a salmon 15-footer, I sought advice from a hugely experienced, money-no-object salmon angler. What did he recommend out of all the rods available, most of which he had tried? Why, the same rod he used himself – a product costing less than half many on the market. That is the rod I bought – second-hand, again – and it performs like a dream.
The reality is that few rods and anglers are born for one another. Often enough we buy a rod that feels good in the hand and that gives the impression of being up to the job we want doing. If, having bought it, the rod shows a less-than-fatal quirk we often fish on and find we adjust to it. More often than not, the rod we fish with ends up becoming the rod we know and learn to love. When the time comes for a change, use of the old rod will likely have made the next new rod feel strange – and we repeat the cycle.
It is much the same with fly reels. Plenty of fly reels now cost hundreds of pounds. I have never spent more than £50 on a fly reel and the two of that price I do own both incorporate superb disc drags. Some of my expert friends are wedded to reels that cost between £20 and £40 apiece. The reel I use on my 7ft 3-weight cost £14 in 2003 and does everything I ask of it, which is not much.
On the high-priced reel options, this or that gizmo justifies a little extra cost and hype delivers the rest. Statements like ‘the days are long gone when a reel was regarded largely as a place to store line’ are now heard repeatedly – and are wrong. The prime function of a reel will always be to store and, of course, dispense and recover line. The essential qualities – lightness, reliability and an exposed rim – cost very little in themselves.
In truth, the rod has not yet been priced that will turn an indifferent caster into a good caster and no rod-reel-line outfit has been assembled that will make up for a lack of fishing skills. Unless the angler behind the rod knows the value of a cautious approach to the water, can read the currents when he gets there, knows where a fish is likely to lie and can present the right fly in such a way that it comes to his quarry’s attention naturally, every penny spent on gear will be money down the drain.
This is not to say that much expensive tackle is not superb or that good tackle will not give a good fisherman an edge: simply that expensive tackle will not necessarily be good tackle and that quite superb gear can be had at a very modest price. Telling the difference in the shop or from the products in the catalogue is, of course, the problem.
For the angler who can be persuaded that he needs the most expensive in anything and can afford it – or who just wants the top names regardless