John Bailey: The season for surface fishing is here

We had a selection of the weird and wonderful - frog patterns, a so-called suicide plastic duckling, a fiendishly realistic white rat and the more normal chuggers and poppers.

The loch was shallow and already lily strewn whilst the pike were ravenous, probably post spawning, so the stars aligned for him. He was ecstatic. For sure, many of the pike came short or simply boiled over the lures, but enough were hooked to get him roaring for more. He might not have caught the monsters we had in mind, but who on earth cares when there is fast, furious, top-water action like this? A single frog-caught pike, he decided, is worth 10 on a dead bait drowned on the bottom, and who can disagree with that? Now that temperatures are rising, surface fun is there for all of us.

Many years ago, I rented a two-mile stretch of the upper Bure just outside of Saxthorpe. It cost me £65 a year so that tells you how long ago we are talking. It could have set me back 10 times the amount and I would not have cared, simply for the late spring sport alone. Then, the mayfly hatch was outstanding some hallowed evenings. Flies the size of those frog patterns, almost, lifted off into the balmy Norfolk dusk and eight-ounce wild browns gorged on them until their eyes popped. So, too, did seriously big roach of 2lb or more and though they were out of season and didn’t 'count', they still made those twilights magical.

On the rivers and the stills too, big, bushy dry fly imitations are worth presenting and the sight of them being enveloped is at the core of what exciting fishing is about. Last year at precisely this time, I was in Ireland dapping mayflies on Lough Corrib and I wonder if the method could work here in a decent breeze. I’m sure it has been done…has it? I could see the method adapted to a large gravel pit, fishing from the bank, though of course the real insect would have to be replaced with a fly to be within the rules.

And, as for carp, there are those who maintain surface fishing is the ONLY way and I’m thinking they are right. Back in the 60s, I’d caught a hundred carp on bread crust before I caught one on the bottom, on double lobworm and I remember at least half the takes still with a twinge of gut-churning excitement.

It’s not just a small fish method either. I once nearly caught Eric, the legendary Lenwade mirror carp, on floaters one night and back then he was probably the biggest fish in the county. Two Chum Mixer-type biscuits on a hook are often better than a single one but I still favour crust as the best of all. Biscuits can whip up a competitive fervour amongst a shoal of carp but a matchbox-like piece of soggy, floating loaf, presented carefully in the fringe of a reed bed, can single out a solitary fish of serious size. We think of surface caught carp as fish of warm, still weather but a breeze can help disguise the line and a sudden downpour can induce them into explosive feeding. One vital tip… if a carp takes a large floating bait, wait a while until the line slides away before striking. Pike and frog lures, trout and mayfly, carp and crust, they all need seconds to take the bait down beyond their lips so hold your nerve and bide your time. 

Heart-stopping! (Image: John Bailey)

Chub too, when June 16 comes around and you can fish them on crust, poppers, floating flies and if you are like a friend of mine, crickets bought from a pet store, although I’m unsure whether this is either nice or legal. A dead, trap caught, floating mouse is also a chub favourite, though I know THAT is not nice!

Then of course, there are sea bass, especially these days when there seem to be ever more of them. What could beat a Norfolk sunset, the tide full in, the wind died away and a bass hammering a surface plug or fly? That’s the essence of wild fishing at its wildest.

Top water-caught browns, rainbows, pike, carp, chub, bass and I guess you could add perch too at times, most especially at dawn when they are hunting in open water, chasing fry and fingerlings along the margins. The only downer is that our glorious Norfolk golden rudd are nowhere near present in the numbers they once were. To catch one of those 2lb beauties on a dry Black Gnat or Coch-y-bondhu, as Mr Crabtree advised, would be just about the biggest triumph you could pull off in Norfolk today!