One of fly fishing’s true characters, perhaps you’ve seen his moustache before or maybe it was the ubiquitous cigar. Most likely you’ve seen our Scotland-based fly fishing Lifer Dave Felce (aka Corsican Dave) through his many carp and pike-on-fly pursuits and his advocacy for these species. He talks to us about a life well fished in The Mission Issue 47 (Sep/Oct 2024).

“I am most proud of my friends and family, all wonderful people who have put up with me for a very long time!”

The first fish I remember catching was a roach from the Grand Union Canal when I was five. My auntie Thelma “borrowed” my uncle’s fishing gear and we fished bread paste under a bobber, between the narrow boats at the bottom of my grandad’s allotment. No one went fly fishing in Milton Keynes. That was for rich folks on another planet. My first fish on fly gear was actually a pretty decent chub (4lb-plus) from a tiny river, using free-lined bread flake. There were a couple of lessons in there. 

I’ve had a few jobs, too many to list… I had a very senior international job in the chemical industry for a number of years, but I’ve also worked as a mountain guide, a fishing guide and in outdoor retail (so don’t even think about asking me, “What’s the best…?” ’cause I actually know, and you won’t like the answers!). Somewhat bizarrely, I’ve also put up Christmas decorations in shopping centres as a rope access technician. 

The story behind my nickname, Corsican Dave, is that my family are originally from Corsica way back, and it’s a lot easier for folks to remember than my surname! Besides which, Porno Dave (long story) isn’t quite as socially acceptable. 

A typical day for me looks grey, wet and cold. Hey! It’s Scotland! 

“The handiest survival skill I have is the belief that manners maketh man.”

As far as home waters go, on my doorstep I have fantastic pike fishing, both in big lochs and in squitty little duck ponds that no one gives a second glance. Watching a vee wake appear behind your fly is a heart-stopping moment every time. I’ve caught way in excess of 1 000 pike on the fly. I prefer to use surface lures (I’ve got a fly that imitates a duckling), which allow me to target some really tight spots. 

My spiritual home is Extremadura in central Spain. Most folks say, “Where?” But that’s kinda the point. Sight-fishing to big, wild carp and barbel in gin-clear water. Plus the people, the food, the scenery: I have some very good friends there who’ve been very kind to me over the years. I should also mention the high-altitude reservoirs on Gran Canaria. Phenomenal scenery and truly huge wild carp! 

My go-to setup on these waters is the Gouldfish Car’poon 7’9″ 10-weight S-glass with specialist compound taper, 8-weight Barrio GT90 (a long-bellied WF) and fluorocarbon tippet up to 22lb. Abel cork-drag reels; super-smooth and totally reliable. This gives me the ability to present delicately both at distance and close in, smoothness to cushion the initial surge of big fish (much more difficult with stiff carbon), and power to control in tight situations. I can actually cast a full 6-weight line with this rig, or a 12-weight; so it’s very versatile. 

The best advice I have ever been given was, “Don’t do that, Dave! Oh fuck… too late.” Joking aside, there’ve been a couple. My English teacher always told me to write what I know. So I mostly write about not catching fish. I know a lot about that. Folks seem to like it. Fishing-wise: “There’s no point casting for the horizon when the fish are at your feet.” From a guy who promptly launched a 90-footer and hooked into a trout I couldn’t see. I learned both lessons pretty well, and worked on my stalking and casting. 

I am most proud of my friends and family, all wonderful people who have put up with me for a very long time!I’m also immensely proud of being involved in the development of the amazing Car’poon fly rod. It was created from the ground up by Chris Gould, who designed the tapers, commissioned the mandrels, etc. There are 30 or so around the world, and it’s subdued trophy fish of all kinds; from huge carp to 200lb-plus arapaima and sharks. It’s the first, and to date the only, production fly rod designed specifically for carp.  

I’ve tried not to work very hard at anything at all, to be honest! Although that approach was doomed to failure. At school I was one of the smallest kids for many years, so I had to work very hard at sport, eventually becoming quite successful. Observation: a thirst for knowledge and asking questions came naturally, which certainly helped me as a biologist, and also with stalking fish. 

There have been so, so many satisfying fish. A mid-20s pike from a tiny village pond that folks throw shopping carts into comes to mind. “No fish in there, mate…” Uh huh… More recently, a couple of big carp from an overgrown river in Spain. Years spent watching fish and practising casting finally got me in the right place at the right time. Every fish is special, and a privilege. 

My go-to drink is adark malty ale. Or a good porter. I can’t be doing with “tropical” IPAs! Deep, woody Riojas, too.I did also get a taste for Caipirinhas while hunting arapaima in Brazil 

“Something I have changed my mind about is that kayakers are not the enemy.”

One place, never again: Inverness airport. Without question the rudest, most draconian and inefficient I’ve ever come across. Unfortunately, it’s kinda inevitable…

One place I have to return to is Spain. Time and time again. There’s so much to explore. Pirarucu Lodge in the Mamirauá Reserve of the Amazon was pretty special. All my savings gone, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat. 

It is OK for an angler to lie when your client offers you a spectacularly shit cigar. Every angler lies. It goes with the territory and non-anglers expect it. All part of the fun! An old sherpa saying is, “Maybe true, maybe not; better you believe.” But being honest with yourself and to your friends is essential. 

The handiest survival skill I have is the belief that manners maketh man. Smiling, politeness, respect and being able to say “hello”, “please” and “thank you” in a number of languages will get you a long way.That and a pocketful of cigars. 

A skill I would like to master is flash photography. Never got my head around it. Any offers of help would be greatly appreciated!That, and being able to put pictures up straight. 

The biggest adventure I’ve ever been on was about 40 years ago when I persuaded a friend to join me on a cycling holiday to the Picos de Europa in northern Spain. We had one out-of-date climbing guidebook and a Spanish phrasebook. No one we knew had heard of the area; pre-internet, of course. Rolling down the ferry ramp alongside heavy goods vehicles and huge overland trucks was definitely a “Fuck! This is something else” moment. We rode through high mountain passes, pushed our bikes through deep snow, were held at gunpoint by the police for camping in a bus shelter… the usual stuff for teenagers. It was a real eye-opener to travel in remote communities, and sowed the seeds for the future. 

The best way to face one’s fears is full on. Or run away. Hesitate and it’s probably gonna hurt. 

Before I die, I’d liketoget some new knees! 

If I could change one thing in fly fishing, it would be the perception that it’s elitist, Salmo-centric and difficult. It’s just a different, and often more effective, way of putting something that looks like food in front of a fish. Any fish.It’s also far less complicated than a lot of people would like you to believe. Too much dogma and too many vested interests. 

Looking back on my life thus far, there is plenty I would do differently, and a couple of things I wouldn’t have done at all! I’d definitely have taken a fly rod on my mountaineering adventures. That might sound strange to other outdoors folks around the planet, but here in the UK the two activities are rarely combined, even nowadays. 

Something I have changed my mind about is that kayakers are not the enemy. 

The last fish I caught was a tiny little jewel of a brook trout on a miniscule dry fly (although for me, anything under a #12 is miniscule), in the Dolomite Mountains of Italy. An idyllic setting, spotted and netted by a great friend. What could be finer?

This feature on Dave Felce first appeared in The Mission Issue 47, you can read the whole thing for free below.