Living in Canberra, I’ve always been happy with the sport-fishing options close at hand. I can drive for 10 minutes down to Lake Burley Griffin and target yellowbelly, cod and redfin, 25 minutes to Googong for the same, or make the 45 minute drive up to the Goodradigbee or Cotter Rivers for trout. The guys at fishinginsoutheastaustralia have enjoyed success at all of these places. Sometimes it’s hit or miss, but you can usually find a fish or two, particularly in the warmer months.
I’ve also targeted carp. Historically, carp fishing for me has been far-removed from the usual ‘sport-fishing’ I enjoy. A few beers, maybe two rods, some chips and good company, and I’m quite happy to dangle some lightly weighted bread or corn in the lake for a few hours, contemplating life, the universe and of course, my navel.
However, this formerly accessible avenue for relaxation is no longer. Since taking up flyfishing, I see carp as a wily, intelligent and valuable adversary. A challenge; a goal; a necessity. I lie in bed at night thinking ‘why didn’t that 3 kg albino mirror carp, who came up to inspect a white feather on the surface, take my slowly sinking bread fly?’. ‘What if I use a buoyant bread fly on the surface, and a suspended emerger below?’. ‘When do I strike? At the slightest movement, or when the line actually moves away?’.
I’ve had some success, the majority of which can be measured by opportunities to catch fish, rather than catching fish themselves. As an aside, a good fishing session is more about these opportunities than whether or not you catch anything…I think. At least it’s better than not having any opportunities at all! Anyway, here’s how my carpin’ obsession has developed:
My first session was spent casting floating and sinking bread flies at jumping fish. The water was muddy, so I was only able to blind cast or at fish that had just jumped. No action. The second session was far more exciting. I could see bubble trails and actual fish cruising around in front of me. I was fishing in about 0.5-1m depth, with about 40cm visibility.
The carp were frisky; jumping, feeding and cruising. Conditions were perfect. I had a few takes…the line would twitch, move away slowly, or the fly would stop sinking. I tried bread flies, a variety of nymphs, wooly buggers and a whole bunch of miscellaneous self-tied flies that I haven’t named because they haven’t caught fish, but no hookups! I saw one fish, literally at my feet, inspect a sinking bread fly, before casually sucking it in. I struck, felt nothing, and the fish didn’t even bat an eyelid. He continued on his merry way, rooting around in amongst the rocks and mud.
The third session was a different story altogether. I arrived at one of my favourite spots; down near Yarralumla on Lake Burley Griffin. There was a warm nor-wester, and as I arrived, I spotted some enticing bubble trails. I tied on a pheasant tail nymph and started casting away into the breeze. To my left, I noticed movement in the water. Standing ultra-still, I turned my head to see a large carp rooting around in the mud, only 2 metres from the bank and about three metres from where I was standing. Then I noticed another fish about a metre from him, then another! Three fish, within four metres.
I hauled a bit of line off my last cast and flicked one over. The fly landed gracefully, followed by a heap of heavy line. I had cast too far…the nymph was still at least a metre from the closest fish. I took a long haul on the line and let it sink seductively, right in between the three fish. As the nymph dropped out of view in the muddy water, I watched the fly line for any sign of movement. Nothing. I decided to give the nymph a small twitch, but felt resistance. A slow, deliberate strike, and I was on!
The fish took off on a spirited run; the thick flyline screaming through my fingers. Eventually, it tired, then took off again, then tired again. Feeling the flyline getting stripped from between my fingers was an exciting experience. Meanwhile two college girls had emerged behind me and decided to become an audience, and I explained to them that this was my first carp on fly and that one of them would need to take a photo of me with my prize. I was convinced I’d jinxed myself, but persistently and slowly fought the fish. Whenever it saw me or the bank, it would take off again. Nervous moments…
After what felt like at least 5 minutes, the fish was finally subdued and I reached into the water to pull him out. Needless to say, I was pretty chuffed, and my audience, who happened to be almost as attractive as the carp I was connected to, seemed pretty impressed too! A quick photo, and the fish (and eventually my audience) were on their way.
The next ‘highlight’ left me a bit deflated, to be honest. I was happily casting away to mooching fish, when a rotund fellow from the National Capital Authority drove up in his ute and informed me that there’d been a sewerage leak nearby. Smiling, I told him ‘that’s the reason all the carp are here’, to which he replied, ‘we haven’t closed the lake yet, but I wouldn’t be sticking my hand in there if I were you’. Well I’m not him and I’d just stuck my hand in the lake, which I didn’t admit at the time. I had a few more ‘reluctant’ casts and pondered my options as the real possibility of E. coli poisoning started to eat its way into my conscience, and possibly my stomach.
I decided to head around the corner and fish the small bay near the Yarralumla nursery. On arrival, I walked past a small stagnant dam that isn’t connected to the lake, and spotted a large, silvery mirror carp cruising near the surface. The fish turned away from me, and I had the perfect opportunity for a cast. However, I was almost directly behind the fish, and my cast fell directly in line with it. The heavy line caused one-too-many ripples on the water, and I watched the fish descend slowly but deliberately into the green, murky depths.
Next I turned my attention to the lake itself. I fossicked around for a while in the sun, but the wind was not in my favour, blowing into me from my left (I’m a left-handed fly caster). This means danger….a few flies singing precariously past my head, and I decided to head to the opposite bank to have a look in the shadows. I’d just heard and then seen a fish jump, so I knew they were there. On the way around the willow-lined bay, I spotted another fish mooching around. A dark specimen around the two kilo mark, sitting near some snags in about 0.5 metres of water. One day, I might be able to cast to it, but this fish was obscured by all sorts of bankside obstacles and I gave it a miss.
I found the next access point and started casting blind. I didn’t need to wait long before a fish appeared; a healthy carp of about 4 pounds. He swam along in front of me, before being joined by another fish, this one about 6 pounds, coming from the other direction. They swirled around in front of me as I placed a cast right in the middle. The line twitched, I did nothing. No strike. I’m not sure why. It was just so exciting to see these two fish right there in front of me. I suppose I just wasn’t ready for it…
I moved along a few metres to the next access point, and immediately spotted a small fish feeding in less than 40cm of water. The first cast was way off to the right, and the second cast was a bit short, landing about 60cm in front of him. However, he’d seen the commotion and the slowly sinking nymph, and came over for a look. I watched him, no more than 3 metres in front of me, start sucking and sucking as he approached the fly. One more suck and the line moved. I struck firmly, and was on! This small fish put up a spirited fight, and almost had me down to the backing at one stage. After a few minutes he was landed.
The next, and final, fish of the session, was one of those fish I’ll probably always remember. No sooner had I released the second fish, I went back to the first access point and saw at least six carp schooling on the surface. They were coming straight towards me, and sucking at the surface as they went. I placed a cast about a metre in front of them, and the leading fish swam over, gulped a few times and I was on.
It felt bizarre to be a recent flyfishing convert, have had two blank sessions, then two fish, and then this experience. I’m addicted.
Needless to say, carping is hard, but challenging fishing is what it’s all about. Waving the wand around in the warm spring sun can be quite meditative and mesmerising. If you’re into flyfishing or want to challenge yourself in the Canberra region, there are plenty of opportunities…potentially millions of them. What better way to deal with an invasive species than to treat it as a resource?
I’m hoping to get out again this weekend, so will try to let you know how I go. I’ll probably be a bit light on the posting over the next few months…getting married in November, trying to buy a house, and just got evicted from my rental as the owner is returning. Sorry kids, but SHIT! Wish me luck. As long as I can get a few sessions in, I’ll be ok. Fishing’ll fix what ails ya.
P.S. Hamish and I had a brief but interesting conversation about stress. Physiologically, sightcasting at cruising carp is probably the same as that feeling you get when your life is falling apart, but psychologically, one is beneficial and the other isn’t. I think there’s a lesson in here somewhere. Not entirely sure what it is yet. Something about turning problems into challenges, and challenges into opportunities.
15 thoughts on “Fly fishing for carp”
Carp are great fun, and I’ve found better fun on lakes than in the creeks. And bigger. Thanks for promoting this. The more we catch, the less to mess up the environment for the natives. Unfortunately, they breed so much more prolifically than natives, it feels like a losing battle, but every litte bit helps.
“frisky” and energetic generally means that they are in the spawning mode, which is the absolute best time to hunt them. the hardest is when they are just mooching in float mode, and don’t seem to be interested in anything.
Looking at your rod, is that a 5-6wt? I’d think about a 7 wt for the bigger ones – when you hook a 10lber or more, you just can’t raise them with light gear. perhaps lengthen a leader if they are shy of the heavier line.
p.s. it’s not legal to release a carp back in the water, you need to dispatch them, and preferably carry a plastic bag for disposal of the carcass. the girls may not be impressed, but the environment will be.
p.p.s tenkara fly carping is a bigger challenge. you are limited to the smaller ones and 5lb tippet. if you do want to try, use an amago or yamame or equivalent. the tenkara rods are good for the really delicate presentations, but the landing effort doubles even for smaller 4 lb’ers.
and a ppps. carp are much harder to catch on a fly than most people let on. they are either absurdly easy on those one or two special occasions, then very flighty and selective very very hard generally. So I am impressed with the catch, especially on your first attempts.
Hey mate try burleying with bread then throw a floating bread fly in there for carp. Try fishing for the redfin perch as well they love them i use a baited breath fly in red its a saltwater fly but seeing the gob on reddies it doesnt matter
Around where I am (Melbourne), I haven’t found the need to berley, I mainly fish the creeks, where its absurdly easy to sight a few fish to cast at (catching them can be a completely different ball game of course). Best flys for me so far are damsel fly nypmhs of numerous descriptions, soft hackles, wooly worms etc etc… Had a surprising amount of success with a purple fuzzy creation that is ugly but just keeps working and unlike a lot of the other flies is still works on fish that have seen it. With some of the ponds I fish regularly, first time they see a fly they smash it, second time, very wary, third time, spooks any fish that sees it, fourth time it spooks the whole pool as soon as one of them sees it. Change up the fly and you are back to square one… Only flies that have really avoided that fate are damsel nymphs and this funny purple thing. Why I have no idea…
In other circumstances, lakes etc, berley is probably a vital component of consistent success. Been meaning on doing a reddy session soon, just never seem to get round to it
Yea mate with the reddies get a fly that sinks and is fluffy as and is bright colour hook sizes to 1/0 is good for redfins and use saltwater wet flies for them
They would definitely be a challenge on tenkara. Gotta try that! but probably after I actually manage to land one… Can definitely be very selective… Been chasing a few fish on Gardiners creek close to where we are house sitting… Had multiple looks at flies, where they have a gander and then get back to mooching… Had three takes (yet to land a fish- keep getting strung up in the reeds), after lots of fly changes and trips… One slightly loud slapdown and they are gone- so can make presenting multiple flies to the same fish to see what interest it quite challenging… Thankfully, its only 5 minutes from the house we are at, so there is always tomorrow…
Anyway great comments
i’ve experienced similar in the plenty, darebin, diamond, merri etc creeks. Very spooky, very hard. not the easy catch that some make out. and the tiger snakes! tenkara should perfect, but the small creeks are closed in and make it hard for long rods. I find it impossible to use a line longer than the rod on the creeks.
have a look at this from the tenkara guides Utah: http://www.tenkarabum.com/daiwa-kiyose-43mf.html
My son & I have been catching carp in a lagoon near Wollongong.Water is about a meter deep and the lagoon is 200M X 400M. We have been using bread mostly. Corn doesn’t seem to work.
We have tried different rigs as seen on youtube etc but most have been caught on a small bream hook with no sinker & a small ball (14mm) of bread squeezed onto the hook shank then squeezed flat to expose more hook. 2KG is about the biggest we have caught so far but there are some whoppers we have seen jumping out there. Any tips on the best way to nail these fish would be appreciated. Do boilies work?
Sorry Les, I won’t be much help. Most of my carp fishing over the years has been on artificials. Lures back in the day and now flies. I’ve done a bit of bait fishing for them but its never been anymore sophisticated than weightless or lightly weighted bread or corn baits in a berley trail… So I dare say I know less than you on the subject…
I’m sure there is a load on info about course fishing for carp somewhere on the net which would probably be invaluable. Those guys have taken bait-fishing to a level of sophistication I can only imagine
Les, i’m pretty sure i know the lagoon you and your young bloke are having a carp session in, if it’s Coomaditchy lagoon, my buddies and used to fly fish for carp there about 5 or 6 years back. best time was at sun-up, when the chunky ones were rooting around the mud on the bank. we burlied up with bread and fished on bread files. biggest was a 15pounder about 650mm long and plenty about half that size.
but now i’m in Canberra…
enjoy your fishin lads,
Hi Dan, I realised I never got back to you! Been too bloody busy. Those shots were actually taken in Canberra, near Yarralumla. It’s a great little spot for some carpin’!
Might see you down there one day 🙂