Grayling in Winter: Three Hours of Daylight

Half past ten in January. The field is white and hard, the gate latch burns the fingers, and the river runs low and very clear between frozen margins, steaming faintly where the sun reaches it. Nothing moves on the surface. It would be easy to think the water empty. It is not. Somewhere along the bed of the long glide below the bridge a shoal of grayling is lying almost nose to tail, waiting for the day to warm by a single degree.

A short window

The grayling, Thymallus thymallus, is a cold-water fish and goes on feeding at temperatures that send trout into a sulk. Even so, its winter day is short. With the water at 2–6°C (36–43°F) the useful hours run from roughly 11:00 to 14:30, when the sun has had time to lift the temperature a fraction and before the light begins to go. There is no reward for arriving at dawn. Arrive at half past ten, tackle up slowly and be in position by eleven.

What matters more than the number on the thermometer is its direction. A river that has crept from 3°C to 4°C by noon will fish. One falling after a clear, bitter night, or chilled by snowmelt, often will not. A mild grey day after a week of frost can be the best of the winter.

Where they lie

Forget the fast riffles of September. In cold water grayling drop into the deeper, slower glides: steady water of 1–1.8 metres, moving at a slow walk, over gravel or small stones. Look for the smooth middle and tail of a pool, the inside of a long bend and the even run below a weir apron. They shoal tightly in winter, so long stretches hold nothing and then one piece of water no larger than a kitchen holds twenty fish. When you catch one, mark your feet and fish the same line again.

Small, heavy and slow

The flies are simple. They need to be small enough to look like the shrimps and midge larvae that make up winter food, and heavy enough to reach the bed of a deep glide in the first third of the drift.

Fly	Size and weight	When
Killer Bug	14–16, copper wire underbody	Sawyer’s grayling fly. Suggests the freshwater shrimp, Gammarus pulex. Good in moderate depths and on the dropper.
Pink Shrimp	12–14, lead underbody or 3.0 mm bead	Cold, slightly coloured water and dull days, when a spot of colour is found sooner.
Perdigon	16–18, 3.0–3.5 mm tungsten bead	The point fly for depth. Slim and smooth, it cuts down through two metres quickly.

Fish them on a short line, upstream and a little across, with a leader about the length of the rod and a tippet one and a half times the depth. Where the rules of the water allow two flies, put the perdigon on the point and a Killer Bug on a dropper 50 cm above it. Let everything drift slowly, slower than the surface, and lift at the slightest check. Winter takes are soft. The leader does not dart. It simply stops, as if the fly had settled on a leaf.

In January the river gives you three hours. Spend the first of them getting the depth right.

Cold air and a wet fish

A grayling brought from water at 4°C into air below freezing is at risk in ways that do not arise in summer. Gill filaments and the fine tissue of the eye and fins can freeze in moments, and the damage is not visible when the fish swims away.

• Keep it in the water. Unhook the fish in the net, with the net bag submerged. Barbless hooks make this a matter of seconds.
• Never on frost or snow. Do not lay a fish on frozen ground, snow, ice or a cold, dry bank, not even for a photograph. Skin and slime stick and tear.
• Wet hands, however cold. Dip your hand before touching the fish. Do not handle it with a dry woollen glove.
• Mind the dorsal. Hold the fish upright, head to the current, in steady water until it pushes away. Grayling tire quickly and recover slowly, so give it the time it needs.

Looking after yourself

When the air is below zero, water freezes in the rod rings and the line stops shooting. Dip the rod tip in the river for a few seconds to clear it. Do not pick at the ice or flex the rod sharply, because a frozen tip section is easily broken. Fishing a fixed length of line, as short-line nymphing does, keeps wet line out of the rings and largely avoids the problem.

Dress in layers: a thin wicking base, fleece trousers under breathable waders, an insulating jacket and a windproof shell. Wear fingerless gloves, carry a spare dry pair and a small towel, and put a flask in the bag. Wade less than you would in summer and never above the thigh. Cold water takes strength from the legs quickly, frozen margins are slick, and a fall in January is serious. Use a wading staff, tell someone where you are, and keep dry clothes in the car.

By half past two the light flattens and the takes stop as if a door had closed. That is the day. Walk back across the white field while your hands still work, and write down the temperature and the hour of the first fish. Next week those two figures will be worth knowing.

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