Nigel Nunn — The Floating Fly

Photo credits: Yvette Austin, David Burton and Bernard Holbery.

1. Choice of equipment Rods, reels, fly lines, fly floatants, clothes, glasses, and other useful items.

I dress like a tramp on the river… or perhaps something more like a character from a Buchan novel. There is nothing technical about the clothes I wear, an old shirt, combat trousers, shooting vest, wide brimmed hat. On colder or wetter days this raggedy ensemble is topped off with an even older patched up Barbour (that just eats wax). My waders are a pair of thigh length Chameau’s that are still going strong (and only leak a bit) after nearly 20 years. I prefer thigh length waders as I don’t like to wade too deep in order to get a fish, beyond what my good friend Jeff Pearce calls “pasty depth”.

If my clothes aren’t technical then it may come as a surprise that my rods are the opposite. I like to fish short/shorter light modern glass or cane. Go-to-rods that are always ready by the door are:

The Tiny Devil by Nico/Yamame, the ultimate short rod!
68 Blue Ridge Special by Chris Barclay, a rod with so much soul and feeling.
662 S glass by Adam Rawson, one of a matched pair I had made (one for me and the other for the Wild Trust Auction a few years ago).
Luke Bannister Superfast 6’ 3wt. A rod I’m vying for joint custody of (Luke made it for my wife Julia). It’s absolutely stunning.

Reels are either by Ben Perrin, Approach (especially for the Tiny Devil) or an old Orvis Battenkill.

Fly line of choice is the Snowbee Thistledown, it’s perfect for the rods, reels and rivers I fish.

Fly boxes are all 3 or 4” flat foam Wheatleys which I need for the depth as my flies are quite shaggy.

I like a long handled wooden net with rubber mesh to make catch and release easier. I don’t know if its just the way I fish/catch but I often find that a barbless hook (I only fish barbless) is often knocked out on the wooden rim and makes the whole experience less stressful for the fish which can only be a good thing.

A truly essential bit of kit is my Amadou patch by Revolution Amadou (honestly the best quality amadou there is).

2. Leader material, build-up, length and knots.

We’re back in the land of non technical for my leaders. I like to fish a Profil 9’ cast in either a 3,4 or 5 weight (thanks to Alistair at Robjents, Stockbridge for making these available again), a 2 or 3mm tippet ring and then about a 4’ length of Stroft tied onto that. I’ll shorten it to suit smaller rivers but I’ve fished this way for years and it works for me. The main knot I tie was taught to me by a bare knuckle boxer on the bank of a stillwater in South East England. He marched up to me and I honestly thought he was going to kill me as I must’ve been in his spot. Instead he grabbed my rod, told me in no uncertain terms that my knots were no good (not the words he used) and made me copy an odd monstrosity that was twisted 7 times for luck… I did and I have done ever since.

3. Approach and stealth.

The older I get the more stealthy I get… or maybe that should be slower. Once you’re passed that first flush of adrenaline and excitement when you get to go fishing, I find myself taking more and more time to stop and observe before even setting up let alone setting foot in the river. As I’ve written previously, I prefer thigh waders so you have to be careful and aware of your footing but it also means you can’t yomp the whole length of a beat and disturb everything. I like to make as little impression as possible and this goes back to the clothing as well. I’ll have a net on my back, canvas bag on my shoulder, kit in my pockets and a rod in hand. None of this rustles, squeaks, glares or reflects, nor does my silhouette resemble some sort of combat turtle with front/back packs and extra rods sticking up looking like I’m ready for war. Keep it simple, travel light, look and listen.

4. Reading the water.

I’m obsessed with looking at running water, could happily watch it all day. One thing you notice if you stare long enough is that the water forms a loop. Look at a section of the river, how it flows, the obstacles it hits, the swirls, patterns, riffles and ripples, the light and shadows, and, just as important, the sounds. You’ll soon notice that it almost repeats itself and becomes a loop. Once you’ve seen that loop it becomes a lot easier to spot any disturbance over quite a large section, be it a rising fish or the subtlest signs of a hatch. It’s no great mystery but it does take a modicum of patience to spot the signals within the noise of the river.

5. Casting ability which casts are essential.

I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask about casting. I can get a line out and some people will say it looks ok. I can roll, flick, reverse and even do a passable bow and arrow without getting the fly embedded in my thumb most of the time. I learnt early on stillwaters to punch through the wind and to use it at my back. I can banana and thanks to the rods I use, lift a fair old length of line off the water and get it back out there (or up a tree). Even if it’s a bad cast I’ll tend to leave it and fish it out. It’s surprising how many times a bad cast will get you a fish. I guess I do whatever it takes to get the line on the water with the least disturbance. One thing I would say is to relax… The fish don’t care if you’re the best or the worst and most importantly, they don’t judge you or hold up scorecards when they’re in the net.

6. Entomology, what should we know.

I think entomology and the often bewildering amounts of flies is the single most off putting thing to anyone starting fly fishing and/or fly tying. The idea that you should have an encyclopaedic knowledge of upwings or a deep understanding of nymphs before anything else is wrong in my opinion. In fact, I think the reverse is true and that a little knowledge is not dangerous but essential. I’ve seen anglers crippled by desperately trying to match the hatch, going through multiple fly boxes while the hatch has begun and then ended. Yes, you do need to know, but I think observing what’s around you (what’s in that loop) or controversially not matching the hatch at all will more often than not get you a fish. Look at what’s in the air or on the water. Go for a general approximation of size and colour, learn as much as you think you need. You can’t catch a fish with your face in a fly box or with a guide book or internet search.

7. Rise forms Can they tell us something?

Yes, everything! The more you look, the more you see, the more you know (without even realising it). And not only rise forms but hatch forms also. I find myself more and more only casting to rising fish or the signs of rising fish. Observe the river or the section long enough (yup, we’re back in that loop again) and you’ll often see the tiniest disturbance, the smallest sign of a fish feeding or a hatch starting. A ring or a ripple or the slightest pock, a bump in the water hiding a hump that hasn’t even broken the surface film… these aren’t splashy rises, bucket like gulps or slashes, those are easy to spot or hear. There are far more subtler signs that just take a bit of patience to observe.

8. Fly selection, Size, shape, materials, which flies are essential.

Buckle up… can you have too many flies? My answer is… yes, and that might sound odd coming from someone who makes their living from tying flies. When I started tying, the holy grail was the all season fly box. That one box that contained all the patterns you would need for the whole season. Have I achieved that? Yes. Are there patterns still to add to that box? Yes… Given the changing environment and the impacts on that environment nothing should ever be set in stone, nor should it be only my way or the highway.

I like a shaggy (some have said scruffy, I prefer buggy) natural type of fly. Rarely bigger than a 12 or smaller than a 20. I do use synthetic materials but more often than not my flies contain a lot more natural materials, deer hair especially. I would rather tie and fish an impressionistic fly than an exact copy. I want movement and disturbance not passive observance and appreciation. Multiple trigger points are essential, it’s hilarious when you find the fly that works on the day and it gets chewed up beyond recognition yet still catches… it makes a mockery of the art, craft and graft. Most importantly a fly should be strongly tied. If it’s gonna be put through hell and high water, tie it well.

My essential flies would be:

Deer Hair Emerger, size 14

Gypsy Queen (a rare example of a synthetic bodied fly), size 14

Yellow Pheasant Tail, size 16

PH’s Dyret (named after Phillippa Hake), size 14

Large Sedge Dry, size 12

Shaggy UV Mayfly (only mayfly you need), size 12

Sulphur Loop, size 16

Fowey Cahill Caddis, size 16

Small and Scruffy/Small and Scruffy Loop, size 16

Dry Fly Soft Hackle, size 16

Crackle Back Gnat, size 18

Favourite fly:

Shaggy Olive, size 12. Even after all these years it’s still my favourite fly both to tie and fish.

9. Presentation and drifts.

Presentation and how a fly lands, whether on the water or bounced off an obstacle so that it lands with a satisfying “plop” is very important to me. The tippet ring helps with this as do the rods, lines and reels. I want the fly to land on the water as naturally as possible and without too much effort. Once it’s there and starting to drift then you can manipulate it. I don’t necessarily agree with drag free drifts or the elimination of drag… when you’ve just presented the fly equivalent of a double cheeseburger on the water, fussing your mind with micro drag seems laughable. Nor do I worry too much about the length of tag left after tying on the fly. I used to cut them very short but now I definitely leave them longer as almost an extra trigger point. Things/ideas/opinions change, that’s ok. It should be said that most of the rivers I fish are not gin clear, they almost always carry a bit of colour but on the occasions I am on some clear water I don’t really change things that much. I want some movement and interest/disturbance. I’ll tweak it, put a mend in the line but rarely just leave it to drift prettily and listlessly.

10. Upstream or downstream?

I love fishing a downstream dry! It’s definitely one of my favourite things to do. A lot of our rivers are upstream only but on my local stream and the rivers I fish in the South West of England downstream fishing is permitted. I know it can drive the purists mad and I’ve seen quite a few people lose it and storm off in a huff (maybe that’s why I like it?). When myself and David Burton were rod testing for Alternative Tackle he could hear from the sound of my fly line coming off the water when I’d switched to downstream… even when he was out of sight he’d say “I know what you’re doing”. Guilty as charged.

11. Fighting fish.

I’ll always try and get a fish in as quickly as possible. We rarely fish for the pot anymore and it’s been years since I’ve knocked a fish on the head. Keeping up the pressure but not bullying the fish (unless it’s heading towards an obstacle/snag or if I was fishing and the water temperature had risen sharply) Simple care and handling… again the rods help, glass especially seems to absorb a lot of the fight and there’s nothing like seeing the Tiny Devil deal with an unexpected 4lb sea trout or the curve of a Chris Barclay on a wild chalk stream brown. We should always remember it’s about the welfare of the fish, especially in these days of social media, hero shots, lifts and squeezes and grip ‘n grins (why are they still a thing?!?!). Quite often the fish seems secondary to the image and often the ego of the angler or “influencer”. We’ve all been guilty of mistakes in the past, of bad handling and practice but hopefully we learn and get better. Catch, release and keep fish wet… we won’t realise how lucky we are or were until they’re gone or when it’s taken away from us.