Arm aching action at Beaverdyke!

No, not vigorous outdoor onanism you sick puppy.

Saturday looked like it was going to be a good day to wet a line – overcast, humid, occasional showers and very little wind. I had a leisurely morning tying a few flies and assembling my gear which led to me arriving at the reservoir for around 4pm. Walking down to the water’s edge I felt the warm breeze against my face, savoured the gentle rubbing of aged PVC on my thighs, and firmly gripped my trusty fish botherer with rising anticipation. I could see fish moving everywhere and a fellow angler just leaving the water gave me the welcome news that Beaverdyke was ‘on’.

Sometimes, just sometimes, it all goes right. I already knew which fly to use – a parachute hackled emerger I call a Parachute Adams although it isn’t strictly that. First cast, I briefly hooked a fish. Second cast, I briefly hooked another.Third cast, a fish swirled and missed. Fourth cast I tangled my tiny Diawl Bach dropper so comprehensively with the Emerger on point that it took me 5 minutes to unfathom it all. Fifth cast (emerger now flying solo!) I hooked and landed a nicely marked rainbow which I snapped a pic of with my smartphone.

And you know what? For the next 4 and a half hours I stayed on that same stretch of bank and caught fish after fish. 11 or 12 made it into the net, another 10 or so were lost whilst being played and the number of offers that didn’t convert to hook up probably numbered another 20 or so.  I changed my fly once when sport had dropped off (no fish for 15 minutes!), but otherwise every single offer came to the parachute pattern pictured below – this is the actual one, looking worse for wear and missing its tail feathers.

And let me tell you something pendejo. If anyone tells you that when sport seems ‘too easy’ you should up sticks and go home, fish elsewhere or maybe go flog yourself behind a bush for having the audacity to catch a load of fish and enjoy it, boot them in and throw rocks at them. Enjoy the success because next time you go fishing you are just as likely to blank! The only exception to this would be if a newcomer to fly-fishing was clearly struggling to catch nearby, in which case you could get chatting and gently offer them your spot and / or your fly. But even then, if they start catching a load of fish, drive them away with a sharp stick and regain your peg. Only joking! Sort of.

If anybody wants the pattern, or tying directions, email me on

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