One of the great joys of fishing for Mullet is that you can always learn new skills, even in places that you have fished so often that you have come to know them like the proverbial back of your hand.

Take my favourite venue for fishing for this wary and elusive species, the nearby River Dart in South Devon.  I suppose I must have spent literally thousands of hours fishing in this beautiful river, particularly the challenging up-river marks, and over a period of time have learnt to know the best times to fish particular marks and this has given much more chances of success.

Mike Bailey proudly holds another fine Grey Mullet caught from the River Dart June 2009 Photo courtesy of Mike Bailey

For me, the most enjoyable method is always float fishing.  There is something quite magical and mesmeric about watching that brightly coloured tip as it drifts slowly along in the tide and current, only for that heart-stopping moment when it disappears without trace or quivers and bobs as a bite develops.  And then there is the reward for all that concentration as the rod hoops over and once again you feel the extraordinary power of a gleaming and hard-fighting fish on your line.

And so it was that on one of the very few warm and sunny days that marked it out from the wet and dismal summer of 2009 that I ventured down to the river bank.  I had intended to fish for a couple of hours after low tide just as it started to flood, and felt confident that I would enjoy some good sport.  It was only when I arrived at the river bank that I realised that I had blundered and read my tide table wrongly.    It was dead low water and the place I had planned to fish only had a few inches of water trickling over slime covered green boulders.

I could sit there in the sunshine and wait for the tide to start flowing up or I could move around and explore other areas.  I opted for the latter as often low water will reveal some solitary fish in some of the deeper pools.  As I walked around a sharp bend I came to an abrupt halt!  There in the very centre of the river, was an angler, and quite clearly his target was Mullet.  The spot he was fishing saw a set of rapids running into a fast running pool with a fair depth of water.  I fish the river many times during the season but most of the time another angler is something of a rarity on this stretch far upstream.

I sat down quietly to observe, as you can learn a great deal from others and this angler was clearly a master of his craft.  I had always dismissed the idea of fishing with float in such fast running water as the Mullet have always seemed to take better when the flow was less rapid.  Here was an echo to a long distant past , when as a small boy, it reminded me of how I used to read the wonderful "Fishing With Mr. Crabtree" series by the incomparable Bernard Venables.  The angler was using a beautiful centre pin  reel and a massive Avon float, carefully shotted down.  Flicking it into the shallows he let it settle and held it back in the fast flow as he let it trot down the entire length of the pool.  All the time he introduced some compacted balls of ground bait into the swim.

For a while there was no sign of any activity and soon the tide would be rising quickly meaning the end of the time fishing in the centre of the river.  And then it happened!  The float was there one instant and the next it had gone.  I struck instinctively for him as I watched and the screech of the centre pin and rod bent over hard indicated that the angler was into a good fish.  In that current the fight was frantic and furious but the fish was played expertly, and quickly netted, a lovely proportioned fish of about 3 pounds.   Within minutes the fish had been gently unhooked and returned after giving it time to recover unharmed into the tumbling waters.  A flash of golden silver and it was gone.  Within minutes the water had risen so quickly that the angler called it a day.

Me, I returned to my favourite fishing spot and as I recall, had a very good afternoon with plenty of bites and a number of hard fighting fish.  However, all the time I was thinking of the action earlier on in the day and I determined that I would have to have a try myself as soon as I could.  There are a number of identical pools in the Dart and I wanted to see if I could succeed in a similar fashion.

I don't have a decent centre pin so decided I'd give it a try with my Shimano fixed spool reel.  I found some much heavier floats and decided that I would try the very next day.  The place I had chosen was slightly shallower with a long gravel spit exposed for an hour at low tide and so my intention was to cross the river at its shallowest point to fish into this pool.  I would take the minimum of gear, basically my made up tackle and some ground bait.

I didn't want to spend the day with chest waders on so decided that some boots would just about get me out to the centre if I was careful and even if I did get a bit wet I would soon dry out.   Well, that was the plan anyway!!!!

The  next day saw me at the chosen spot in lovely warm conditions, full of optimism.  I set up on the river bank and then gingerly started to move into the very shallow side stream that I needed to cross before reaching my chosen spot.  With a rod and net in one hand and a container of ground bait and hook bait in the other I found this far more difficult than I had first anticipated.  The stones and boulders were absolutely lethal, coated in green and slippery weed, and the flow was far stronger than I had thought possible and it was much deeper too!  I really struggled as I floundered about as if I was on a skating rink.  And then I suddenly found a much deeper bit and I was soaked as the water ran in over the top of my boot.  Almost in slow motion I found my feet going from under me, and I fell in what I would like to think was quite a graceful arc, as I ended up lying sideways on in the river, totally soaked on one side, and still managing to hold and protect my rod and net from the water.  I spluttered and swallowed a few mouthfuls and then managed to get myself up on an even keel.  I was half wet and half dry, the wet half covered in weed and mud, and what a figure I must have cut.

I was even more careful as I waded across the last section before reaching the haven of the small gravel spit.  At least I could put my gear down here whilst working out how to fish the pool still dripping from my watery escapade.

As usual I plumbed the depth finding that it seemed to have at least four feet for most of the area I was going to fish.  I discovered there was a back eddy that I could cast into which would take my float towards me initially and then would swing around in to the main pool and then down the tumbling and racing water of the central section.

It was far more challenging than I had ever realised but I started hurling small but very heavy balls of ground bait into the back eddy.  Then I flicked out my bait and watched the heavily shotted float start moving quickly towards me before swinging out into the main current.  The roar of the rapids was exhilarating and I had to concentrate every second.  This was a very active form of fishing and at times the float was almost at my feet.  Like in any new form of fishing it takes time to get into a routine and so for the next 20 minutes or so, I watched the tip of the float as it bobbed and pulled, mending the line the whole time.

I knew that the time was passing and that soon I would have to make the treacherous journey back to the river bank as the tide rises very swiftly when it starts to flood.  Although I was not catching I was really enjoying what was to me, a completely new experience in fishing.  The sun was warm and I was drying out nicely and I felt there was a chance of a fish having seen the success of the angler the previous day. 

It was whilst I was thinking about that angler that my float walloped away.  One second it was there, the next it had totally disappeared.  Striking was a formality at such a short distance and the fish was well and truly on.  I was using 4lb line which was, in hindsight, rather foolish.  The Mullet was a good one and I just couldn't believe the power as it went straight into the main flow of the river.  Stopping it in that current was absolutely hair raising and it was only by exerting the rod's full power that I was able to apply the side-strain that took it out of the main current.  This fish fought like a tiger, perhaps because the water was so oxygenated?  Time and again it managed to get back into the main pool and charge off down it, but each time it was getting weaker.  In the end I drew it to the shallows and , in fact, I didn't need the net as it simply swam up onto the gravel spit, and lay there quivering in all its silver and gold beauty.  A magnificent fish, just over 4lb and a wonderful reward for my earlier misadventures.  Within minutes the fish was put into the side stream to recover, where, after a few moments, it melted away into the clear water.

Another superb Grey Mullet 4 lbs caught from the River Dart rests on Mike Bailey's net before being returned alive to grow, breed and fight again another day June 2009 Photo courtesy of Mike Bailey

A result!  The tide was starting to rise but I knew I had a few more minutes and so I carried on.  To my astonishment, within 5 minutes, a carbon copy of the first bite.  The float was there and then it had zoomed away!  This time it was a smaller fish, but it still fought well on the tackle.  When it came to the side I could see that I had hooked a sea trout of about 2lb.  Again, beautifully marked and shimmering with its spots sparkling in the light.  The fish was returned and swam off strongly.

A beautiful Sea Trout around 2 lbs caught from the River Dart rests on Mike Bailey's net before being returned alive to grow, breed and fight again another day June 2009 Photo courtesy of Mike Bailey

Now it really was time to go.  As I recall it was quite a struggle to get back as the tide had risen more than I had expected, but I was a very contented and happy angler, with a new approach to up-river fishing to add to my armoury.

I spent a number of sessions fishing low water in these deeper pools, and on most occasions managed to take a fish.  Never more than one or two but always good specimens: in fact the smallest I had over the summer was about 3lb which is far higher than the average fish in the upper Dart.  Moreover, I found that if I had a bite it was invariably a "walloper!"  In other words, straight down and un-missable.

As I said at the beginning, one of the joys of fishing for Mullet is the unpredictability and challenges that they present.  More than this, finding different ways of catching this sporting fish is all part of the fun.  You can be sure I'll be back trying the pools in the river this year, but hopefully without falling in at the same time!