Night of the Black Prawn

This is an article written a few years ago which people thinking of fly fishing the Severn might find interesting. 


For a few years now I've been having some success fishing large flies fast sub-surface to catch Severn salmon at night. The basic tactic is the same as that used in sea trout night fly fishing. 


If the conditions are not right for travelling fish to be pushing upstream through the shallow runs then the only prospect for catching a salmon on the fly is in and around the main pools.


Messing about with a fly line in broad daylight on the glassy surface of a Severn salmon pool is not my idea of stealth, nor is plopping about in the same pool in chest waders. Much better to wait for the light to go so it camouflages the angler's movements.


What also happens when the light goes is that one or two of the salmon that are held up in the deep pool might just 'stretch their fins' as it were. They might drop back into the shallower water of the tail, or sneak up into the neck for a little swim around. It is then that there is a chance of catching one on the fly. 


If alone on a Severn salmon pool at dusk I settle down in a good vantage point by the head or the tail and watch the water. No fishing. I just while away the time watching and listening to the river, smoking the odd cig, watching the heavens, spotting constellations and counting shooting stars. It is really hard at moments like this down by the river at dusk to believe I'm only 25 miles from the centre of Birmingham.


What I'm waiting for is the sound, and if I'm lucky the sight of a 'taking fish': a fish in something like hunting mode, cutting through the top layers as if after bait fish.

What I ignore is the crashes and splashes emanating from the big fish flopping about in the main body of the pool, behaviour almost like someone tossing and turning in their sleep.


As soon as I hear a 'taking fish' move I'm at the ready.


I give the fish the Hugh Falkus obligatory smoking break.Why? I don't know, but it's a case of any excuse for an addict I suppose, and it certainly helps calm the nerves. When I've finished my smoke I then make my way as quietly as I can into the water just above where the fish moved. The next few minutes are intensely exciting. Because any second now I could be into a silver bullet trying to get back to sea. After a cast or two to make sure everything is working right I will cover the fish. If I don't make contact within a few casts I retire, execute plan B which is a change to a bigger or smaller pattern and try the fish again.

                                              
A Severn grilse caught on low water 50 odd miles from the tide. It fell for the Black prawn.




If Plan B doesn't work its back to watching the river and waiting.


This gist of this approach is taken from Hugh Falkus who describes it in his book salmon fishing pp 85/8. The only difference is that Falkus used the big tandem rather than tubes and also he didn't do the the waiting not fishing bit. The use of tubes is the product of my expereince fishing the welsh sewin rivers, while the waiting is based on 'waiting for a rise' as in the classic way of fishing dry for wild brownies (Falkus's approach was to merrily fish away somewhere else for sea trout then up sticks if he heard a fish move, but on the Severn we have no big schools of sea trout to provide such a wonderful diversion).


What normally happens is the fish either nails the fly first time or not at all. Very occassionally you might get a fish at the fifth or sixth shot after he's repeatedly shown, but not often. Changing to bigger or smaller flies sometimes works but again not often. The most annoying thing is when the fish boils as you're fly but doesn't take this is more common, and as all salmon anglers know is deeply frustrating.


I've experimented with more radical plan B's. I've tried some of the different sewin fishing approaches, a deeply sunk fly on a fast sinking line presented eye-ball to eyeball and a surface fly riffling and bulging through the top of the water, but despite working well enough for the sewin, they haven't worked for me at night for Severn salmon.


This question of having an effective plan B for when the fish either don't take straight away, or just slash or boil at your fly has been exercising my fishing brain for some time.

My variant of the Black prawn held against the dusk sky over the Severn valley.

In the springof 2007 I was on a fishing break with a couple of mates in Scotland (on the Cree and Bladnoch to be precise) anyway, in the cottage was this huge collection of Trout and Salmon magazine. Flicking through them one evening I came across this article on the black prawn fly which is specifically designed for salmon fishing at night. Flies designed for fishing for salmon at night make rocking horse poo seem common, so the pattern made an impression. I resolved to tie some up for the summer night fishing and fish them as described in the article.

The inventor of this fly is James Waltham who played an important role in the development of the sea trout snake fly. So I felt that he must be on to something, especially as he was clearly one of that small band of anglers who go fishing for salmon with the fly at night by design.

But in 2007 the river was so high that night fishing, in fact any kind of fly fishing, was impossible during the main run. Unlike most salmon rivers we need low water for fly fishing on the middle severn, anything else and the fish are up to shrewsbury and on to wales a day or so after coming in from the tide. As a result of the permanant high water all thought of tying some Black prawns had left my mind.

Eventually, come mid September the river was just about OK for night fishing, and then I remembered the Black prawn. I couldn't find the copy of T&S so I decided to see if any of the guys on the sea trout and salmon web forums could help. One guy posting as Clydebuilt came to my aid and provided a picture of the fly from his scrapbook. I'm indebted to him and he can have free fishing on the Severn for life it he ever wants it! I hurriedly tied some up and they were ready to be employed as a new Plan B should the next 'taking fish' I came across refuse to take.


So there I was sitting by the river again at dusk, watching the greens turn to grey, and counting the stars as they appeared. Then the fish moved out in the darkening river. I covered him with my trusty blue and silver tube flies, but he just sloshed at them, so back to the bank and on with the black prawn.


The point about the black prawn is that it gives you the option of a completely different presentation to the tubes. Instead of a sand eel or bait fish darting just under the surface, which is what the tube is designed to create an impression of, the black prawn is intended to be fished sink and draw, to drop down to the fishes' level and to move up again swimming in a pulsing movement like the natural shrimp. First fish down I let the black prawn swing round and drop down, lifted the rod and retrieved a few inches of line, then as I went to raise the rod again everything locked up, a head started shaking and a fish was on. The fish was eventually landed a grilse of seven pounds or so. The Black prawn had done the job. The next night it produced another.

If only every plan came together like that? But then if it did I think I would have to give up fishing.




In recent seasons I've changed the focus of my approach to night fly fishing for salmon and concentrate much more on 'travellers'. I will fish hard even with no signs of fish If I think the conditions are right for salmon to be running under cover of darkness. At some stage i'll write about this in a bit more detail.