If there are plenty of well-worn furrows in angling there are also, thankfully, avenues that are untested or even a bit unhinged. Catfish on the fly is one of the maddest of all.
When I wrote Flyfishing for Coarse Fish 10 years ago, I doubted it was even feasible here in the UK.
Sure, there are fly rods that will stop sharks, but how on Earth would you catch a fish with terrible eyesight from water with zero visibility?
Next, of course, are issues around scarcity and permission. Even where catfish exist, you wouldn’t want to go launching flies between the bivvies. The answer is to find an enlightened fishery and book it between a few intrepid nutters.
And this is exactly what happened with cat expert Olly Cullingford and friends at the excellent Todber Manor Fishery.
Even with their history of success at this venue, I wasn’t exactly confident. It was a baking hot day and my last ‘catfish on a fly’ trip resulted in just one missed chance in 48 hours! However, the joy of fishing is that you just never know. That magic moment could be light years away or on your very next cast.
Just as I was starting to feel the heat as I launched bulky prey fish flies, there was a tremendous swirl beside one of Paddock Lake’s islands. It could mean one only thing!
My next hasty cast clipped a tree. However, by walking down the bank a few yards, I found enough space to hit the target at the second time of asking.
Three strips of line later and I didn’t have a take, so much as the feeling I was attached to a JCB! Anglers are often prone to exaggerate their battles, but this was the craziest fight I’ve ever had in British waters – and that includes shark fishing!
Within seconds, the fish gathered terrifying momentum. Even the silly strong rod I was using could only moderate its supremely bad mood. It took more than 50 yards of line, almost wrapping me round an entirely different island to the one I’d hooked it against!
At this point it wasn’t only time to scurry down the bank to get a better angle, but time to throw wallet and phone up the bank and get into the water. That brute heave of power was still immense, but the runs were slowing and I was able to steer the fish back, a yard at a time.
It’s difficult to express the feeling of seeing such a fish hit the net, but Andy Eglon did a superb job of landing it for me. My heart was shaking, and I’d sprained my left hand. I didn’t know whether to swear or laugh – 45lb of pure muscle, on a fly rod! To prove it wasn’t some wild fever dream, the whole thing was filmed by John Deprieelle for Turrall Flies, so you can witness my 10 minutes of joy and panic on YouTube! (WATCH HERE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-IinmL9vfM)
