Have a kipper on me.

The heady summer days chasing tench and crucians at Napton reservoir seem a distant memory now and along with them the worry of obtaining a decent position has faded. With autumn just about gone the banks now become deserted and the waterfowl grow in numbers. Not many anglers other than those seeking pike bother now the colder temperatures are here but for me the idea of big roach draws me back.

The entire drive there I thought of big silver flanks and blood red fins. This summers fishing and the occasional capture of a big roach has burnt the idea into my mind. I can't exactly remember who it was that said a big perch is the biggest of fish, but in my mind a big roach is the biggest of fish. Maybe that's because we see so many small roach that when you actually see a big roach first hand something in your mind kind of questions if it's the same species, because roach don't grow that big do they! I know the specimen weight of a roach is supposedly 2lb and therefore that becomes a marker of a big roach, but I believe that at 1lb that's when a roach is a big roach; I don't think many anglers will disagree that when you see a roach of that size attached to your line you suddenly become a lot more careful about landing it.

As I rounded the corner and the car park came into view I was stunned out of silver dreaming by the sight of a car park full of cars. Either a long-billed Dowitcher had turned up and the lake was lined with rampant twitchers or something fishy was going down. It turned out to be the latter and the club were stocking a batch of fresh carp into the lake to renew the dwindling population. I can't deny winding up the committee members up a bit as I pulled up by asking if it was a fresh batch of crucians? To which their answer was it was the afore mentioned carp. My final comment though seemed possibly a step too far when I proclaimed "ah, otter feeding day is it?" to which the only reply was angry glares...

Looking out over the water, the lush green rushes had faded to brown and although the water temperature had to have dropped the lush summer weed still seemed ever present in the larger lake. Curiosity drove me to have a quick chuck around with a lead in the bigger lake to confirm that yes, even out over forty yards it was still too weedy to fish how I wanted to. So I set up on the popular corner peg at the end of the bridge to fish out in the small square lake. After picking a nice spot an easy cast out, I loaded a large feeder loosely with ground bait and maggots to cast out by way of attraction. Even the mini spomb I like to use would deposit too much bait to locally for my liking. On my last attempt at this I felt I totally over cooked the swim with bait before I started fishing. Ten feeder loads of freebies deposited later I was cast out on the spot and watching the water.

Bar the few hundred water birds on the big lake and the newly released carp bashing around, all was pretty quiet. I stood on the bridge watching the grebe hunt hoping to see it catch something right until it passed under me and the bridge and popped up back in the big lake. That's when I spotted another angler over the water. Interestingly, he was seemingly casting a fly as I could see the line lifting off the water. From afar I saw him land a small pike and release it before moving on. 

Trying to keep active and the bait fresh, I concluded to recast every twenty minutes to make sure there was always bait around my hook bait. Quickly I got into a rhythm and every recast was hitting clip and dropping in a very tight area. There was one fly in my ointment though; every time I reeled in I saw a pike come up and chase my feeders in. The pike angler in me even slowed the feeder up once just to incite the take which it did and my feeder was duly ripped off my line to be spat out in disgust later.

That pike quickly went from amusing to worrying as I was fishing for a single bite so far and if I got any sort of fish on, never mind a big roach, they were done for with this pike around. Though I had a rod that would have done the job I was lacking traces and lures to try and get it out and moved on. When I saw the pike angler approaching me I quickly reeled in both rods and recruited the chap, who seemed to be Scandinavian of origin, to try and hook the offending pike.

I reckon he thought I was pulling his chain when I explained and offered up my swim for plundering, but he eventually began working a giant gaudy tinsel filled fly back and forth through the air, pulling off line as he did, until the line flew out and landed gently on the water with the fly some thirty feet out. The first retrieve raised nothing, but on the second cast we both saw the mottled back of a pike follow the fly before slashing and missing it. After shooting me a smile he was casting again this time towards the direction the pike had turned off. Once again the pike grabbed the fly and spat it out before the hooks bit home. Both our hearts were going after that, but I think we both knew it would have another go... and it did! This time though the rod bent over hard as the pike struck and there was no missing that hit! I originally only thought it was a oversized jack pike until it twisted flashing its flanks in the deep water and I knew it was a double. Then the net went under it and it looked much bigger. On the mat unhooked it was three times the fish I originally thought it was and my new Scandi friend was thrilled when the scales went over fifteen pounds.

It was released well away from my swim and I have to say I got just as much enjoyment putting this chap onto the fish and watching him catching it as I would of myself. 

The excitement over, I got the rods back out and got back into my rhythm. As the light drew in my silent alarms sprang into life. As I suspected might be the case, the fish came on the feed at the end of the day as is often the case in the colder months. Mere minutes after every cast the bobbins would begin to dance and the purple led lights of my buzzers would flicker on. I have to say these bites were near impossible to hit and an hour of hard work into dark yielded little more than a string on small perch. I had hoped that even if I did not actually catch one of the large roach that reside in Napton, that they might help me out by rolling as dark fell. Even such a tiny morsel as a few decent fish rolling might have at least contributed a tiny piece to this puzzle. I watched both lakes right up until I could barely see the water through the dark and not one sign of fish was forth coming.

I now find myself in that difficult situation where the challenge of a campaign to catch a big Napton roach is as attractive as ever, but common sense tells me such an endeavor would mean spending lot of time and blank sessions chasing after a hard to win prize when there are so many other species I want to get after over the winter months.

Happy fishmas one and all.

I've had some pretty dire June 16ths in my time I can tell you. I try my very best to not work on this sacred day, I get all wound up like a chocolate crazed kid and charge off to the river or some venue where I've been unable to fish, with sky high expectations and in most cases it all ends being a bit of a letdown. This year I decided to not get all excited and instead of charging off to the river or something, that I would just go and fish somewhere I knew I would have a good time. Bucking the trend, I went to Napton thinking as it's been open all year it might be a bit quiet on the first day and I was right; only one other angler was in residence when I arrived.

Though I knew when I arrived that I would more than likely catch a net load of tincas, I half had it in my mind that today might be as good as any to actually have a shot at catching a crucian carp. A few days before I had witnessed Andy realize a dream and catch a cracking old fish that will stick in my head for a long time to come. 

The swim I chose was shallower than the ones I normally fish and after plumbing up and fine tuning the float to register even the shyest of bites, I committed and baited heavily alongside a reed bed using Green Bait-tech super G ground bait and fresh casters. As intended to use corn as hook baits I carefully flicked out a few grains over the bed of bait to get the fish used to looking for them, but kept the amount down so as fish would hopefully not have too much choice and struggle to find the one with a hook in it. 

Thankfully I had collected the repaired section of my fourteen foot power waggler rod from the kind chaps at Lanes who had got it repaired in time for the 16th. I knew this rod would be perfect for fishing this venue as it's got loads of low down power to help fight the hard fighting tench, whilst still being sensitive enough in the tip section to fish lighter float rigs.

I watched as the ground bait broke down, sending tiny bubbles up all over the area. Really, I expected the tench to get on it like white on rice but nothing occurred for the first half an hour. Then the game changed in a big way when a crucian rolled off the back of my bait. If my heart wasn't in my mouth enough then, when a second one rolled to the left of the patch my heart was literally in my mouth. They were here and if I was ever going to catch one it was going to be now. Then the float rose less than half an inch and I struck! The culprit was blatantly a tench which powered off quickly out into the lake before getting off in the blink of an eye.

One cast later the whole session became a blur... The next slight rise in the float was hit and this fish felt different, very different. After an initial dull resistance it began circling round for a short while before rolling on the top and that's when I saw a dark gold shape the size of a dinner plate. When that fish went in the net I could barely believe it. Less than week ago I was writing about how hard people have worked to catch these rare Napton Crucian carp; here I was on the first day of the season and my first fish of that season was a ancient crucian. I had to actually calm myself down to prevent myself flapping around whilst dealing with it, I was that excited. So after securing it safely in the net I engaged the other angler to help me photograph my prize. 

The fish looked very much like the fish I'd seen the previous week, apart from not being as high in the back. What it lacked in height this one made up for in thickness across the shoulders. It weighed 2.10lb but some checking of my scales later confirmed them to be weighing 1oz heavy for some reason, making the fish's actual weight 2.9lb. But really, I didn't care what it weighed as I genuinely felt honoured to have such an amazing fish be my first of the season.

I considered going home after I watched my first Napton Crucian swim away in the clear water but I knew no matter how rare they were, today I stood a chance of another. The very next cast the float settled down leaving the red tip showing as the corn nestled on the bottom. Just as I was about to reposition my net next to me, the float almost swayed rising slightly as it did. I struck into a second fish that wasn't a tench either and lo and behold, moments later a very young looking second crucian of two pounds was mine.

Now, I was flabbergasted to say the least. In the very short time I'd been fishing I landed two of these Napton ghosts and from the looks of the bubbles rising in my swim there was more action on the cards. I cast again almost trembling and the float never settled fully before sliding off. The tench had moved onto the bait in a big way and were so keen to feed they were intercepting baits on the way down. I caught nine tench over the next two hours and everyone battered me senseless, tearing line off the reel and repeatedly diving in the deep water.  

What a session to start a new season with! I was in pure heaven catching all these wonderful tench one after another on the lift float. Soon though all went quiet and there was a perplexing lull in the action. But it soon became clear why when the float rose preposterously high out of the water and my strike provoked a very large fish to bow wave out of the swim rather quickly. No tench, no matter how big, had this power and it confirmed its identity to be a carp when I attempted to slow it down before all the line went of my reel. In doing so the fish rose up onto the surface and came back towards me so quickly I could barely keep tension on the line. The battle under the rod tip was just way too much for my light hook link and the entire rig was soon wrappped around the tip of my rod.

This loss of the carp turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Thinking the carp had more than likely cleaned me out, I baited up again heavily with the rest of my ground bait and lashings of casters. I took my time to tie a new hook link and retune the depth of my un-baited rig in the hope it would allow the fish to move back onto the spot. Lo and behold when I was done and cast out I only waited moments before getting another tiny bite and connecting with a third old bar of Napton gold.

"Three...honestly three," I remember saying that to myself as I released the fish back into the clear water. But that wasn't it! Not ten minutes later I got exactly the same quivering rise on the float and number four was dancing around under my rod tip about to really top off the 16th of a life time. 

I feel sure the shoal of crucians had been lurking round the reeds all morning just waiting for the tench that had pushed them off to do one. But it was probably the carp coming in and panicking out of the swim that moved the tench on and allowed those shy old crucians to slip back in. The tench though weren't gone for long and a trio of bigger examples up six pounds finished off the morning for me.

That was without any doubt the greatest 16th and crucian session I have ever had in my life. I kind of feel foolish for how hard I have described the crucian fishing to be on Napton now. BUT! I also know this really was a case of being in the right place at the right time, doing the right thing. Had I been fishing one of my favoured pegs then I would have never been on them and had I been fishing a float rig that relies on the float going under, then maybe I would have never even struck at one of those bites. It's quite likely that it might be a few years before I get a second chance to catch any of these wonderful wild old crucians again if form rings true. So with a smile on my face still, all I can say is...

Happy fishmas one and all.

Back on track.

Considering the hours of my life I've spent staring at a float I wouldn't of thought it possible to forget just how much I love float fishing. A year of chucking lures though seems to have gone some way to making me forget, but easing myself gently back into to fishing without any arduous walking sessions has steered me back to this forgotten loves arms.

First came a very brief session where, to just get out, I ventured down to the closest bit of canal with a single short float rod rigged with a simple pole float, to ply worms down the nearside track whilst just enjoying being out again.

With a handful of brutally chopped yet wonderfully oozing worms as a carpet to attract... well anything, I swung a single writhing worm delicately onto the spot and sat back and enjoyed fishing again. It felt at the time like I had missed an entire season of the year, as when I was in hospital weeks ago spring was still stuttering along and now the banks that lined the Oxford canal were thick with greenery and the blossom of the hawthorn peppered the hedgerows white. With cold nights becoming a distant memory the perch population at least had settled into voracious summer feeding habits as well.

Not a few minutes went by without the delicate float dipping here and there as the hordes of little striped predators tugged at the wriggling worm. Now and again greed got the better of them and the float would sink away as one tried to escape its brethren with worm. Quite quickly I was amassing a respectable tally of pint sized predators and any passing match angler might have appreciated the session, seeing me plunder the normally frugal cut.

If I know one thing about fishing this method for perch it's that they generally get bigger as time progresses and it was exactly so on this occasion. After every deposit of feed the size of fish landed increased. The slew of fingerlings made way to a few hand sized fish, you know the ones that aren't quite big enough to dip the net for but put a worrying bend in the tip of your rod. Then as the bites slowed the bigger crew showed up and at close to a pound the net has to get deployed. When those fish disappear and the float holds fast above the film of the water you know there's a good chance a rouge monster is on the cards. When that bite came the little rod bent right round and a proper perch smashed round the canal furious at the price of it's free meal.

A couple of hours, a mess of small perch, a handful of bonus pounders to ice the session and a monster mother as the cherry on the top and I was done. It was the perfect way to get out fishing again and once again light the fire of my float fishing love.

With my mind still focused on the float I mulled over my next session, but it was news of change that led me to my next venue. I love Napton reservoir and when I stood freezing in the winter wind casting lures into it I dreamt of summer tench fishing there. Recently though things have changed and Coventry Angling Associations strangle hold on it has yielded and the news that Leamington Angling had obtained the rights to fish it emerged. 

Now I will put it out there that I am yet to be convinced of whether this is a good or bad thing. On one hand Leamington really look after their venues and I have the utmost respect for this. BUT! They also have a habit of interfering with their waters in ways to make them a bit more... financially viable. I watched with trepidation as they turned Ryton pool from a wonderful wild tench water into a mini carp water with the random stocking of some questionable carp. Also they have a naughty habit of after a few years starting to ask for a small day ticket fee on top of the club membership under the guise of "restocking", which in reality seems to be a way to fill their already swollen coffers. All that aside, I want to fish Napton so a membership has been purchased to enable this to continue in the future.

If you've ever fished Napton you know it takes more time to get your seat level on those rocky banks than it does to set up all the rest of your gear set up and after settling down on the causeway facing out into the big half of the lake, I finally began the complex dotting down of my Drennan glow tip antenna float. I love to fish these floats with the last shot just off the bottom and it can be difficult to get it set just right so as when a fish bites the float works in both as a normal float would, going under, and as a lift float, which rises when a fish lifts that last shot. It's worth it though for the added sensitivity and on this occasion it proved a brilliant choice.

The tench and fish as a whole were being particularly shy and with eight other anglers up and down the bank from me literally I was the only one striking at fish. Most of the strikes came to very little but every now and again I connected with a nice perch in deep water, some of which were getting on for two pounds. Frankly where these perch were when I was lure chucking in the winter is a mystery, but show them a few casters and they were well up for it.

It wasn't the perch I was really after and in the end I struck into a solid fish which made me look a royal prat by charging straight into the only small reed bed nearby and getting away with a deft flick of its tail. I had to work very hard feeding small balls of ground bait and regular pouches of casters over the top to get my second swing at old red eye. After hitting a tiny rise on the float this one headed out into the lake like a flipping marlin, stripping line off the reel. A few changes in direction later and that one was off too. Sadly this can be the problem when fishing small hooks with tiny baits for powerful fish.

Looking back though I don't think the rod I was using helped me at all. Wanting a bit of back bone I'd dusted off my John Wilson Avon rod, but being as soft as it is and only eleven foot long it bounced around all over the shop in the brief tussles and didn't feel great at all. It was enough to send me grubbing around in some unused rods to find a fourteen foot power match I've got that needs a little repair, for future sessions when I will be back to settle the score with the green buggers in Napton Reservoir.