I’ll admit I was sceptical when I first saw anglers messing about with underwater cameras on the River Test. It seemed like another bit of kit to carry, another expense, another faff. But after borrowing a mate’s GoPro for an afternoon session on my local Derbyshire stream, I became a proper convert. Watching the footage back that evening completely changed how I understood what was happening beneath the surface.
Gear Used in This Article
The thing is, we spend hours theorising about what trout are doing down there. We read books, watch videos, and swap theories in the pub about feeding lanes and lies. But there’s something fundamentally different about actually seeing it. When you lower a camera into that run you’ve been flogging all season and discover the trout are holding two feet further back than you imagined, or that your supposedly perfect drift is dragging something rotten, it’s a genuine lightbulb moment.
I’ve been using cameras on and off for about three years now, mostly on stillwaters and smaller streams where I can get them positioned without too much drama. The footage has answered questions I didn’t even know I had. Why do trout sometimes follow my nymph right to the surface then turn away? Turns out my tippet was catching the light at a certain angle. Why did that particular spot on my club water always produce in the morning but go dead by noon? The weed bed shifted just enough in the current to change the whole lie.
Setting up doesn’t need to be complicated. I’ve seen people with elaborate pole systems and remotely operated cameras, but honestly, a basic waterproof action camera does the job. The trick is finding natural spots to position it where you won’t spook fish. I often wedge mine between rocks or tie it to a bankside branch that hangs into the water. On stillwaters, you can attach it to a weighted line and lower it near features you’re targeting.
The real education comes from filming yourself fishing. It feels daft at first, setting up a camera to watch yourself cast, but the insights are brilliant. I discovered I was lining fish constantly on a particular beat because I hadn’t clocked that they were sitting much tighter to the far bank than I thought. The camera caught them scattering every time my line landed. I adjusted my position and started actually catching them.
If you’re thinking about trying this, something like a basic action camera (this one works well: https://amzn.to/4dbkzUH) will get you started without breaking the bank. You don’t need crystal clear 4K footage to learn useful information. Even slightly murky water reveals shapes, movements, and behaviours you’d never spot from above.
Winter is actually a brilliant time to experiment with this. The water’s often clearer, and trout in winter lies tend to be less spooky about a static object in the water. I’ve had some fascinating footage of grayling and trout sharing the same slack water, and watching how they react differently to the same nymph pattern drifting past. Grayling are far less bothered by dodgy presentations than trout, which explains a lot about why I catch more of them.
The other unexpected benefit is that it makes those quiet sessions more interesting. If the fish aren’t playing ball, at least you can position a camera and gather some intelligence for next time. I’ve got footage from dozens of swims now, and I often review it before heading out to refresh my memory about where fish actually hold in different conditions.
You’ll also start noticing things about invertebrate behaviour, weed growth patterns, and how the riverbed changes through the season. It’s not just about catching more fish, though that certainly happens. It’s about understanding the environment better and making more informed decisions about where to fish and how to fish it.
On your next trip, try this: find a swim you think you know well and lower a camera in for just ten minutes. Don’t fish it, just watch. I guarantee you’ll spot something that surprises you, and that knowledge will make you a better angler.
