The Dartmoor Fly Fishing Survival Guide - Part 3
Things have been fairly serious around here of late. Catchment resilience, woodland strategy, peat restoration… all important, all necessary.
But every once in a while, you can’t live on policy and hydrology alone! So, in the spirit of balance (and perhaps the force), it’s time for something a little more tongue in cheek…
A long time ago, in a moorland stream far, far away…
Two methods emerged. Not with drama, but with fly boxes, waders, and the kind of gentle rivalry that has sustained many a healthy conversation for generations, and ultimately determined who buys the first pint.
Now, before we go any further, a brief apology to anyone who has never seen a Star Wars film. Please don’t panic - this piece doesn’t require you to know the plot, the lore, or why a small, green, wrinkly old man speaks in riddles like a Victorian owl! Think of this instead as an attempt to widen the cultural horizons of the wider angling community, and perhaps encourage the next generation of young anglers (who, at the very least, will get the references) to take up the noble art of trying to fool trout with feathers.
For generations, fly anglers the world over have debated the merits of the Dry Fly (Luke Skywalker) versus the Nymph (Darth Vader) - always politely, occasionally very passionately, and still, after all these years, never fully conclusively.
So, which is correct?
Which is purer?
And which is more effective?
The answer, of course, is “It depends,” which is how all great sagas tend to end…
Trout - The Real Bounty Hunters
Before we get into tactics and character arcs, we must first address the true protagonist: the wild brown trout.
As covered in previous chapters, Dartmoor trout are not romantics. They are opportunists - the Han Solos of the river (and yes, somewhere there’s a clever Salmo Trutta pun in here waiting to get out).
They will take whatever food source offers the highest calorific return for the least effort, whether that’s a neatly presented dry fly, a drifting nymph, or an unfortunate terrestrial that misinterpreted both its trajectory and life choices.
On the moor, calories are precious, and feeding windows tend to be short. Presented well and approached correctly, both methods work beautifully, which is perhaps why the friendly rivalry of Dries vs Nymphs has endured for so long.
The Light Side - Luke Skywalker
Dry fly fishing is built on hope, surface tension, and the unwavering belief that trout should rise to eat where we can see them. Luke casts to rising fish with the heart of someone who believes the universe responds to goodwill and pinpoint accurate fly placement.
On Dartmoor, this involves:
threading casts through overhanging branches
landing dries silently on spots the size of letterboxes
pretending wind just doesn’t exist despite the mounting evidence suggesting otherwise
A typical dry fly sequence runs as follows:
spot a feeding fish on the surface
approach with the utmost stealth
snag leader on a sizeable gorse bush
re-tie everything
approach again… even stealthier
fish gets spooked and vanishes
When it finally works, however, a trout sipping a tiny size 18 emerger in six inches of water, it feels as though the universe has finally righted itself and the Force is in perfect alignment.
Master Yoda Reflects <(-_-)>
“Much to learn of casting under trees, you still have.”
The Dark Side - Darth Vader
Nymph fishing, by contrast, arrives cloaked in mystery, tungsten and mild menace. Lord Vader does not wait for the fish to show themselves - Vader simply goes in and finds them! This is a method built on drift, depth and the “dark, sith-like arts” of pocket-water exploration.
On Dartmoor, that means:
flicking heavy tungsten nymphs into pockets of water no wider than a biscuit tin
fishing tiny hollows where fish seemingly shouldn’t fit
detecting minuscule takes that feel like accidental thoughts
A typical father-son nymphing moment:
Luke: “Are they rising?”
Vader (whilst netting yet another fish): “Well, they are feeding.”
To the untrained eye, this resembles sorcery. And to the trained eye, it still resembles sorcery, just with better knots and a more expensive fluorocarbon leader!
Master Yoda Reflects <(-_-)>
“Do… or do not. There is no dry.” (I’m secretly really proud of this one…!)
The Skywalker Paradox
Now, here lies a great irony. If Luke is Dry flies and Vader is Nymphs… then who actually IS the father? Did the dry fly purity give birth to the dark art of nymphing? Or did nymphing precede dries in some ancient form?
The debate continues and can be properly punctuated by George Lucas’ inevitable line…
Which, settles nothing, delights everyone, and ruins one of cinema’s great reveals for anyone who has yet to watch The Empire Strikes Back!
Master Yoda Reflects <(-_-)>
“Once you start down the nymphing path, forever will it tempt your destiny.”
Where Peace is Restored
As with all rivalries on British soil, true resolution is ultimately found in the pub.
Luke: “Dry flies were a lovely choice today.”
Vader: “Nymphs caught fish.”
Luke: “Mine were bigger.”
Vader: “Impressive. Most impressive.”
Pints are raised, flies compared, days declared “not bad” even when they were, and harmony is restored to the galaxy!
Balance in the Force
Here’s the thing most seasoned Dartmoor anglers eventually learn (usually somewhere between spooked fish and an unplanned swim): there is no victor in this saga.
Both methods are equally effective on Dartmoor’s streams. Both have their devout followers. Both demand skill, knowledge, timing and, down here, practice. And both, when done well, make trout move to the fly with a commitment that keeps us all coming back.
Dry fly fishing rewards hope, and precision, and Nymph fishing rewards feel and depth.
Neither is “right.” Neither is “wrong.” They’re just different character arcs in the same story - and the trout, as ever, dictate the final edit and decide what’s left on the cutting room floor.
So if there is a takeaway from this third instalment of the Dartmoor Fly Fishing Survival Guide, it is simply this:
You may choose Luke, you may choose Vader, but the river only recognises those who adapt to what’s in front of them! At the end of the day, balance is restored not in the fly box, not in the friendly pub debates, but in the small, unforgettable moments when a wild fish commits and wholeheartedly agrees with your decision.
Master Yoda Summarises <(-_-)>
“No. There is no victor. Nothing more will I teach you today.”