The day arrived cold and grey, but at least it wasn’t raining. As dawn broke, trees along the Warwickshire roadside were billowing briskly in the breeze. It was one of those mornings when you could be forgiven for feeling it might have been better not to have heard the alarm and stayed in bed. No way could we have even hoped to put the dinghy in for a spot of early season cod fishing. But we were not going sea fishing, and this was just the type of weather we had been hoping for all week. The days leading up to what has become a regular pilgrimage to Draycote Water near Rugby had been un-typically warm and settled for the time of year, with sunshine more characteristic of August than October. It takes cooler autumnal conditions to trigger grown on rainbows into their annual fry feeding spree, and if that meant waiting until the last gasp of the season to get it, then that was the way it would have to be. We could of course have fished earlier in the season using a range of other techniques. But there is something about fry feeding rainbows on a large reservoir that has to be experienced to be understood, and today looked very much like being the perfect day for it.

Fortunately for us, the wind was coming off the shore close to the boat moorings. This meant that we would be starting off in calm conditions. You can always find comfortable water to fish somewhere at Draycote, though it might mean hugging the shore through some choppy conditions to reach it. We were doubly fortunate in that from previous experience, we knew that the best of the fry feeding action often comes within minutes of leaving the pontoons. The reason for this is simple. Coarse fish fry and sticklebacks, both of which are abundant in most big reservoirs, hang out where protective cover is to be found. These fish live in constant fear of being eaten by trout. Not just any trout. The bigger a trout becomes, the more likely it is to turn to an abundant high protein diet such as fish to sustain its weight. These are usually fish which, having been put in as stockies and have subsequently wised up to how things work on a large body of water both in terms of feeding and angler avoidance. In the process they become leaner, fitter animals with re-grown full tails able to deliver maximum power both on the feed and on the hook. This is what makes fry time such an exciting time. But these fish have to be specifically targeted.

When you are a small vulnerable fry, any shelter or cover will do. Hanging out in shoals is one form of protection. They say there is safety in numbers. But large numbers of prey fish are certain to attract proportionately large numbers of predators. The legs of boat jetties, the shelter of floating pontoons, moored boats, and shallow lying weed beds all offer sanctuary to varying degrees. You wont necessarily find the biggest numbers of trout hanging around such spots. But what you will undoubtedly find are the better quality fish. These can range anywhere between a couple of pounds right up into double figures, though the average is probably nearer the 3 to 4 pound bracket, so a minimum 6 lbs bs sight free leader is required. Essentially there are two ways to approach these fish. Either you go on the drift using a drogue to slow the drift down if the wind gets too strong, or you put the anchor down for a while and work a spot thoroughly before moving on a little way to try some fresh water. Both approaches can be productive, each with its plus and minus points to be considered.

Drift fishing can be hard work, particularly when the drift is fast. A case of constantly casting down wind then stripping the line back faster than the drift of the boat to get the lures working properly. Giving a sinking line time to get down means drifting over slack line, so heavy lines may need to be used to get down fast. On the plus side, covering more ground means covering more fish. Fishing at anchor is a much more leisurely affair, but you need to be over fish to get the best from it. This however only deals with covering ground in the horizontal plane. Unlike sea fishes, most of which feed at or near the sea bed, trout live in a three dimensional world and are rarely found to be feeding at the bottom. More likely they are going to be between mid water and the top. Just exactly where depends on the distribution of food within the water column, water temperature, and whether or not it is a bright sunny day which rainbow trout do not like. This is why most trout anglers rig up two sets of gear. One has a floating line for working at or near to the top. The other will be rigged with a sinking line, the sink rate of which may need to be changed by spool swapping until the optimum feeding level is found on the day.

My regular boat partner for the fry bashing is Ian Gaskell who has a very good record as a reservoir competition angler, and is an expert fly tier to boot. He is the man with the finger on the pulse, so he makes all the decisions, most of which are bang on correct. Our plan was to do a few exploratory drifts from the fry holding margins out into the lake to try to locate any red hot feeding areas. This we would do using the sinking lines, both of which were of different sink weights to explore more of the water. I personally don’t like fishing teams of flies loch Style. This is the technique of casting down wind and drawing the line back marginally faster than the drift of the boat to give the different flies in the team movement. I always seem to get my droppers in a tangle, so for me a single fly is preferable. As we would be fast stripping a selection of fry imitating patterns including sparklers, appetizers and minkies, the single fly approach wouldn’t be a disadvantage. This said, Ian added an 'orange blob' on a dropper to his rig. While this little ball of orange Fritz doesn’t always catch the fish, it has a fabulous track record of grabbing their attention, which can invariably lead to them following and taking the fry imitating pattern tracking along in its wake.

Ians 'orange blob' worked a treat, both as a teaser, and as a lure in its own right. We both had fish, the bulk of which went to Ian, and we both hooked good fish that came adrift. I had a particularly lively lump up to the boat on several occasions, once almost within reach of the net. But when it saw the net it quickly shot under the hull, which meant I had to sink the rod. Somehow, with much of the rod held under the water to save the line from the propeller and the keel, it threw the hook. We soldiered on for a while steadily taking fish here there and everywhere. Out in the more open water, the drift became faster as we caught more wind, which saw us both casting and stripping back more frequently. Not being a regular fly caster, I was starting to feel it in my shoulders and back. And if the truth be known, I think Ian had had enough of it too. He suggested a move to the inshore fry holding areas where we would anchor and switch tactics to an approach I hadn’t seen before which he had picked up on at Rutland. This was the technique of suspender minkie fishing. Knowing what I know now, this has to be one of the most exciting approaches to fishing I have ever come across.

Sight fishing is bound to get the adrenalin pumping. Seeing a good fish moving in on your bait is always exciting. Having to avoid the urge to strike, then persuading it to hang itself in full view is even more exhilarating. A minkie is a fry imitating lure made from a long strip of mink skin and fur. Normally it is cast out on a floating line and stripped back at pace to make it look like a fleeing fry. Trout can find this just too much to resist and smash into the things at full speed. Suspender minkie fishing is a much more subtle and infinitely more exciting approach. Attached above the eye of the hook is a small piece of ethafoam for buoyancy. The idea is that against a grey sky, the ethafoam is invisible. But first the minkie must be waterlogged to make it hang vertically in the water. Fry feeding trout when they attack small shoaling fish injure as many as they swallow. The dead and dying float around at the surface often hanging vertically in the water with just their noses poking through the surface film. Trout, whether they are fry feeding or simply passing through, spot these from below and come up to finish off the job. But it isn’t as simple as that. It isn’t like bait fishing where they casually come along and eat the thing. It is much more akin to pollack fishing where they carefully mouth it first and have to be persuaded to grab.

With the minkie out on the water on a floating line its time to sit back and relax. But don’t get too relaxed, because a certain percentage of the fish coming along will simply eat the thing without warning and take off. This happened with my first fish, which at four and a quarter pounds was also the biggest fish of the day. Suddenly the line was tight and the rod was almost wrenched from my hand. Most interest however starts with a fish swirling at the surface in the area you think your lure is located. Very early into the proceedings Ian gave me a talk through demo. A good fish swirled at his lure. Rod tip down pointing at the fish he started stripping the line back a yard or two at a time and pausing to see if the fish was following. It was, but it wasn’t taking. So Ian stepped up the pace and kept the lure moving. A big bulge of water like a submarine conning tower followed it. 'Go on, go on. He’s interested. I can feel him nipping it. Go on make a grab. He’s there'. The line made its characteristic swishing noise as it was pulled tight and jumped off the waters surface. The rod tip pulled over hard and the battle was on. This particular fish worked its way around the back of the boat almost to the other side leaving Ian to play it over his left shoulder. Extra pressure was needed to try and get around the front again. This unfortunately pulled the hook.

Physically, fishing a static fly at anchor is more relaxing then fast stripping on the drift. But the tension and sudden adrenalin rushes more than offset any energy saved. And that was the way it went all afternoon right up until dusk. Lots of fish interest. Lots of unconverted opportunities, and around 20 fish in total having seen the inside of the net. Interestingly, most of the action came to two particular minkie patterns. I raised most of the early fish interest on a dark coloured perch pattern before it got smashed to pieces down the throat of one eat and run rainbow. Later in the day the main interest switched to a sparkler bodied grey pattern on Ian’s rod. Other patterns were more patchy, which was important to know as Ian had a big competition coming up at Draycote five days later, and this was his practice day. No doubt he would be spending the subsequent five evenings knocking out more of the patterns that had proved to be most successful on our day. For my part it was five days of relaxation. I was totally whacked out through a combination of physical effort, tension and cold. But I would not have missed it for the world, and did not miss getting a day afloat when the wind dropped putting offshore boat fishing back on the cards. This said, roll on the next fry bashing season.

FOOTNOTE: The morning of Ian’s competition dawned frosty with a cold northerly wind and bright sunshine. This sent all the fish in the reservoir down deep where only heavy sinking lines could reach them. The suspender minkies did not raise a single moment of interest showing yet again that conditions have to be right for all methods.