The competition takes place every year on the River Dee in Wales, traditionally held on the 1st and 2nd of December. Teams consist of three anglers, and the format includes four sessions in total — two on the first day and two on the second. Each angler fishes two sessions and acts as a judge for another team in one session.
Despite its competitive format, the event is built on an exceptionally friendly and open spirit. It is a place where anglers observe each other closely, exchange ideas, and learn a great deal from fellow competitors. This year, 18 teams took part. The riverbanks brought together anglers of many nationalities — English, Irish, Scottish, Polish, Czech, Italian, and Bulgarian.
The Bulgarian team consisted of Stoyan Filipov and myself. For our third teammate, we had to look beyond Bulgaria and invited a Polish angler we had previously met on the River Test. He knew how to fish but had never competed before. With no other option for a third Bulgarian angler, we decided to include him. And so, in this slightly mixed lineup, we met in London before heading west toward distant Wales.
The Road to Wales
We set off around midday on Friday, the day before the competition. Mike, as the Polish angler was called, took the wheel. During the drive, we exchanged flies, discussed tactics, and speculated about what the River Dee might demand from us.
We had no opportunity to arrive earlier for training. In fact, we were the only team to arrive on Friday without having made a single cast on the river. By the time we reached Wales, darkness had nearly fallen. Thick fog covered the landscape, hiding much of the country from view — a fog that wouldn’t lift until the final day.
The cold was sharp, hovering around –3 to –4°C. The river itself was fast and powerful, much larger than what we were accustomed to. That evening, we drew our fishing positions, met familiar faces from World and European Championships, tied a few extra flies, and finally went to bed. Stoyan and I decided we would fish the first session.
First Session: Fog, Silence, and Grayling
We arrived at the river early — very early — and began setting up our gear. Upstream from us stood members of the English youth national team, fishing with confidence and precision. They would later finish second overall.
The cold was intense, and a thick fog lay heavy over the water. A few hundred meters upstream stood an old stone bridge. The silence was almost absolute, broken only by the distant whistles of steam trains passing through the mist.
The session began.
Before long, I landed the first grayling. Everyone was searching for signs of where the fish might be holding. We never truly found a concentrated group. The fishing was pure Czech nymphing, using very heavy flies to reach the bottom quickly in the deep, fast currents of the Dee.
Stoyan landed a fish as well. Around the midpoint of the session, I caught my second. After that — nothing. The English anglers upstream had also landed three fish. Since the competition was team-based only, individual results didn’t matter.
Twenty minutes before the end, I crossed the river via the stone bridge to fish the opposite bank. The judge confirmed I was allowed to do so, but he remained on the other side with Stoyan. I waded deep and began fishing a spot that looked promising.
On my second drift, a strong fish struck — clearly larger than the grayling I had already landed. Unfortunately, it came unhooked. I was frustrated, knowing full well that catches would be scarce and every single fish would be crucial.
I stayed on the same line. Not long after, another take. This time, I stayed calm and careful and managed to land a beautiful 36 cm grayling.
Unfortunately, I had to wait for the judge to cross the bridge and measure the fish — a process that took nearly ten minutes. By the time he arrived, the session was over. I was certain there were more fish holding in that spot.
Still, our team — Bulgaria / Old Otters — finished the first session with four fish. That was a solid result. We had beaten roughly half of the teams, including the reigning European champions from Italy.
The afternoon session was next. I would fish again — and judge the following day.
Afternoon Session: A Hard Lesson
After a quick lunch provided by the organizers, we returned to the river. This time, I was paired with Mike, the Polish angler. Five fish had been caught in our sector earlier — not bad, but not especially encouraging.
Then came a shock.
The judge informed us that we had to fish from the opposite bank, not the one we were standing on. To this day, I believe there was a mistake. That bank was completely overgrown with trees, making fishing nearly impossible without deep wading.
There was no time to protest. We focused on setting up our gear and began working the few accessible spots.
I won’t go into details — this session was brutal. Somewhere in the middle, I landed a brown trout, but trout did not count. Ten minutes before the end, I finally hooked a grayling — only to lose it right at the net.
Thankfully, shortly afterward, I hooked another and managed to land it. At least I avoided a complete blank.
The day ended with just one fish shared between two anglers.
Morale wasn’t high — but we felt better when we realized many teams had done no better, some even worse.
Evening by the River
That evening, we tied flies once more and shared stories with anglers from Wales, England, Italy, and beyond. The atmosphere was warm, relaxed, and genuinely joyful. There was no tension, no rivalry — only anglers enjoying each other’s company after a long, cold day on the river.
And that, more than any result, captured the true spirit of the competition.
