DRAINS, DRONES AND CAMERA-SHY PIKE
How easy is it to catch a fish to order? Way tougher than it looks, says Dom Garnett, after a testing session under the lens of John Deprieelle
GIVEN time and patience, most of us can make a decent fist of catching fish. However, throw in the pressures of limited time, poor conditions or competition and it can be an uphill battle.
Whether film cameras affect the fish or not, they definitely affect the angler. Very few of us are cool and controlled once the ‘record’ button is pressed. The late John Wilson, a hero for so many of us, was an absolute master of the art.
In my own much smaller screen trials, I feel like luck has usually been on my side. Or at least, that was the impression until I agreed to being filmed casting a fly for pike on the Somerset Levels.
I’d had a quick preliminary trip with cameraman John Deprieelle, to suss out some locations and angles. We’d had fun trying out his drone and capturing some scenic footage, in spite of desperately slow fishing.
A few days later, we were still confident. After all, the fishing couldn’t be complete rubbish twice in a row, could it? You can probably guess what’s coming.
More than most other species, pike are temperamental beings. They can be suicidally easy to catch one day, virtually impossible the very next. And, on this occasion, they were harder than Chinese algebra.
Like the direction ‘act natural’, the instruction ‘just fish on as you normally would’ is easier said than done with a camera glued to you. It’s often stop-start to get your angles right, too, because it’s about aesthetics as well as fish. Both parties need patience and good humour.
With the sun rising high and the River Tone hopelessly low and slow, however, desperation was creeping in. Cue a quick leap to a smaller drain.
A smart move, it seemed, as we saw a great swirl and leaping prey fish on arrival. After a dozen more fishless casts, my casting and language alike started to get uglier. But as is often the case in fishing, it’s just as you start to despair that you’re pleasantly surprised. At the end of cast a hundred and something there was sudden, brutal resistance. A pike, and not a bad one by the feel of it.
Had the fish come off I might have actually eaten my rod or thrown it down in frustration. Thanks to the fishing gods, though, it produced some visual
fireworks without losing the hook. The end result you’ll just have to judge for yourself. Suffice to say that there’s an awful lot of footage and footwork boiled down to just three minutes of film. Worth every crumb of effort. Next weekend, however, I just want to leave the camera and go fishing as normal!