Lrf is by definition a simple form of fishing. A collection of techniques that make for generally high catch rates. Like most elements of angling though, this is only half the story. The last couple of weeks and the final day of the Osborne and Cragg LRF competition really hammered this thought home.
Almost anybody can put bread on a hook and catch a roach or rudd, yet only a dedicated and passionate few can say they've ever caught one of those species at specimen weights. The same idea applies to LRF species hunts. Knowledge of variables like tide, light levels, season and of course location, can be crucial and make the difference. As I get to know various local anglers (we all know fishermen are famously chatty characters), it occurs to me how much there is still to learn and how much knowledge you can share. Over the course of a competition this knowledge really bears fruit.
In the competition just finished, I started well. The weather was relatively warm and calm for November so my summer experience still held up to scrutiny, yet the last two weeks my catches tailed off dramatically due to the conditions. I still felt I was fishing well technique-wise but I was barely catching anything. It's worth saying now that I didn't get out half as much due to gale force winds and freezing rain, yet other angler's were still out there and catching. It was clear to me that I was in uncharted waters so to speak, my know-how being almost entirely formed this year in fairer weather. It wasn't particularly inspirational fishing I'll admit!
Although it was difficult, there were some highlights and lessons learned that made it worthwhile. A nice pollack showed up during a wrasse hunt and gave me a serious fight on light tackle. I also had an interesting day with Adam in Exmouth chasing scorpion fish (whilst taking a few photos of the local dinosaurs), we had three altogether and my beautifully grumpy fish brought a massive smile to my face. I really do love these aggressive mini-predators. A key piece of knowledge being that the fish move in on the first flood of the tide, feeding heavily as they go. Behaviour I knew of but had not seen such clear evidence of before.
The day after was the final day of the competition, I knew I had no chance of winning but I had to finish with a flourish. I went down to Mount Batten for one last crack at a wrasse. The weather was beautiful for November and I felt really positive. After casting around a few likely areas with a texas rig, I had a few small hits but then, on the drop, that satisfying solid weight of a decent wrasse. It didn't dive like a summer fish, the water being frigidly cold, but it gave a determined and dogged fight all the way to the shore. After all the frustration and failure it was such a relief to land it. The fish was worth the wait too, the classic ballan colours, deep reds, purples and prettiest of all, azure blue spots. Number thirteen in the competition... finally!
I moved onto the pier itself in the hope of a bonus anything, but as expected, only the shannys were interested in my lure. I did have the pleasure of fishing with Joe May briefly, who was on a few species more than me. He had some humorous stories to tell as a competition regular and was going to be out all night to try and catch the leader, Glen Triscott. I had other less fishing based plans but with one last mark on my mind.
I made my way to Devonport to fish the pontoon, a venue I very rarely fish. With the light on the water and the Tamar proving productive recently it was worth a cast or two. The pontoon itself was full of fishermen, so I decided to fish the right hand side under the bridge. It didn't take long for the pollack to find me. Tiny little bronze monsters jumping on my lure almost every cast. It was entertaining if nothing else. Trying different depths in the water (whilst avoiding the horrifically snaggy bottom) I managed to snare a tiny pouting, my fourteenth species. Subsequent casts could not find anything new though. It was time for me to concede, content with a more respectable total.
Almost anybody can put bread on a hook and catch a roach or rudd, yet only a dedicated and passionate few can say they've ever caught one of those species at specimen weights. The same idea applies to LRF species hunts. Knowledge of variables like tide, light levels, season and of course location, can be crucial and make the difference. As I get to know various local anglers (we all know fishermen are famously chatty characters), it occurs to me how much there is still to learn and how much knowledge you can share. Over the course of a competition this knowledge really bears fruit.
In the competition just finished, I started well. The weather was relatively warm and calm for November so my summer experience still held up to scrutiny, yet the last two weeks my catches tailed off dramatically due to the conditions. I still felt I was fishing well technique-wise but I was barely catching anything. It's worth saying now that I didn't get out half as much due to gale force winds and freezing rain, yet other angler's were still out there and catching. It was clear to me that I was in uncharted waters so to speak, my know-how being almost entirely formed this year in fairer weather. It wasn't particularly inspirational fishing I'll admit!
Although it was difficult, there were some highlights and lessons learned that made it worthwhile. A nice pollack showed up during a wrasse hunt and gave me a serious fight on light tackle. I also had an interesting day with Adam in Exmouth chasing scorpion fish (whilst taking a few photos of the local dinosaurs), we had three altogether and my beautifully grumpy fish brought a massive smile to my face. I really do love these aggressive mini-predators. A key piece of knowledge being that the fish move in on the first flood of the tide, feeding heavily as they go. Behaviour I knew of but had not seen such clear evidence of before.
The day after was the final day of the competition, I knew I had no chance of winning but I had to finish with a flourish. I went down to Mount Batten for one last crack at a wrasse. The weather was beautiful for November and I felt really positive. After casting around a few likely areas with a texas rig, I had a few small hits but then, on the drop, that satisfying solid weight of a decent wrasse. It didn't dive like a summer fish, the water being frigidly cold, but it gave a determined and dogged fight all the way to the shore. After all the frustration and failure it was such a relief to land it. The fish was worth the wait too, the classic ballan colours, deep reds, purples and prettiest of all, azure blue spots. Number thirteen in the competition... finally!
I moved onto the pier itself in the hope of a bonus anything, but as expected, only the shannys were interested in my lure. I did have the pleasure of fishing with Joe May briefly, who was on a few species more than me. He had some humorous stories to tell as a competition regular and was going to be out all night to try and catch the leader, Glen Triscott. I had other less fishing based plans but with one last mark on my mind.
I made my way to Devonport to fish the pontoon, a venue I very rarely fish. With the light on the water and the Tamar proving productive recently it was worth a cast or two. The pontoon itself was full of fishermen, so I decided to fish the right hand side under the bridge. It didn't take long for the pollack to find me. Tiny little bronze monsters jumping on my lure almost every cast. It was entertaining if nothing else. Trying different depths in the water (whilst avoiding the horrifically snaggy bottom) I managed to snare a tiny pouting, my fourteenth species. Subsequent casts could not find anything new though. It was time for me to concede, content with a more respectable total.
I learnt a lot from fishing the competition. Mostly that winter conditions can make LRF painfully difficult at times, testing your resolve. As long as you can be patient and really try to understand your target species, it will still be completely worth the frozen fingers and dripping nose!
