Late season catch up.

Ah, alas once again I find myself writing a catch up blog to bridge some of the larger gaps that have appeared in this fishing diary of late. The reason for catch up is simple yet sad, as I have felt little like writing after the passing of a dearly loved family member has left me feeling somewhat introspective. Although throughout this difficult time I have continued to fish, the fact remains that the ripples caused by this period in my life have taken a long time to dissipate, but now the waters of life are settling and I once again feel the need to leave behind civilian life and re-enter the fishing blogosphere and fill in the blanks in my tome.

The silver incident!

I've tried quite a few times over the years to try and catch a silver bream by design, only to basically fall flat on my face into a mire of roach, bream and hybrids. This year was no different and early season forays achieved little more than me stinking like a bream. Then a while ago I was out dropshotting for predators trying to locate some hotspots on a local canal when I struck into what I naturally assumed would be a average perch as I was using a small black leech intimation. This perch soon turned into a hybrid then in my net and on the bank it became clear I had actually caught my first silver bream of the year on a lure and therefore not by design... 

Maybe next spring I will save some time and just go out after them using lures as this is the second one I've caught on the dropshot on the same section of canal.

A trip to the Wye.
It's been a few years since I've trod the banks of the Wye and normally I'd head over to a friend's private beat, which was initially the plan when my good friend Martin Oxley asked if I fancied going. Unfortunately though our friends beat became unavailable when the late running croy repairs were rescheduled for when our trip was organized. After a panic to try and find another venue we settled on the Letton Court fishery which has three beats available to day ticket anglers along with a very interesting oxbow lake.

The river as always was stunning but beautiful as it was, the fishing was hard. Recent rains and the lack of weed meant we were faced with a fast and potent Wye that I don't mind admitting I struggled to cope with.

We choose to fish the middle beat where the river dropped away in depth after a field length run of riffles. I was hopeful that even with the cold temperatures and clear water that we might be lucky enough to find a few barbel laying up in this sort of area. Even after nearly losing my rod once to my single savage bite I was unable to return anything for my efforts on the river. Martin faired a little better and winkled out some chub.

All too soon my feet started to itch and after mooching the entire available length of the river I discovered little to move for as the other three chaps on the upper and lower beats had nothing whatsoever to show for their efforts. Now the oxbow lake that flanked the river started to seem rather appealing to me as I had brought along a medium weight lure outfit and as sure ducks like bread, I knew that lake had to have a few pike in it.

What met me when I began snooping around the lake was shocking to say the least. The bank that divided the river from the lake was at least six meters high and as I walked along the bank I could see that the recent flood water had left debris hung all over the trees surrounding the lake; thus the Wye had actually gone up more than six meters and filled the lake with dirty cold river water which left the lake murky with sediment. All that aside a single turn up and down the bank resulted in a couple of follows from some jacks and one hard hit from a tiny pike. The highlight had to be when I offered Martin my rod for a few casts whilst I went down to try and find a path through the trees, only to go back and find Martin with the rod doubled over and a huge pike thrashing around in the margins. Sadly though the monster came off just before it was ready for the net, much to our disappointment.

So simply put this was all I caught on that trip to the Wye...

Return to the CRT match stretch.

During the recent CRT match there was a few decent zander caught and the areas of these captures were duly noted and filed away for a return visit in the company of the equally zander mad Mick off of Piscatorial Quagswagging. Once we finally got a date we could both make we met up early doors at the parking area just off the canal.

Armed with a pair of dead bait rods, Mick chose to wait it out whilst I fished a single dead bait and a lure rod as well to try and find the fish as my bait rod stewed away. Early on we thought we'd struck gold when Mick connected with a good fish after a stuttering run. The bend in the rod had both of our arses squeaking until what we hoped was a big zander morphed into a better than average canal pike.

For my part my incessant working of a gaudy lure up and down the trench soon rooted out a small zander which threw the hook, but was followed by one which nailed the lure so hard it was never coming off.

Myself and Mick are very much of the same mind when it comes to zander fishing and after more than the average amount of time in the first swim we were off searching for active fish. This actually works brilliantly for me as not only is my bait rod always fishing in fresh spots but I always have new areas to work lures. We struggled to find zander but the occasional perch took umbridge to my rhythmical gyrating of rubber and through the deteriorating morning I scratched a few stripys here and there.

Those beast zander never did turn up and I will sure as hell be back to have another go. Interestingly I took note of the rough sizes of the few fish on caught on this occasion back on the rock hard section where the CRT match was held just to see how I might have fared with this nominal catch. Surprisingly The rough 80cm+ catch would have put me somewhere 13th or 14th out of 125 odd anglers which would have still been a decent score in that very hard match.

Catch up part 1 - Lure sessions of yaw.

Well I am back after a brief blogging hiatus and holy cow, have I got some catching up to do here. In short I have not been hiding under some out of place rock in the corner of a field in upstate New York, nor have I been tied to a chair blindfolded in an abandoned factory in Nuneaton. Instead my life has exploded as much did my garden when the UK finally dragged its shivering land mass through spring, and that is in part why I find myself not just writing a catch-up blog but in fact a series of catch up blogs to cover this blacked out period.

Really, I feel as if my feet have barely touched the floor since the start of May. Away from fishing it seems half the organizations in the world wanted oversized promotional printed balloons, and half of them wanted them in half the time it takes to print them. Add to that my enormous garden which exploded like a claymore full of brambles which I have taken by the thorns and am currently still fighting, section by section, to make safe for the now super inquisitive BB; a brief and rare sunny holiday has been enjoyed in Wales with the family and if all that wasn't enough I have gone fishing crazy with the arrival of the warmth, fishing so many sessions since I last wrote that the only way to recall what I have done is by the pictures I've left on blank pages of this blog! So here we go back in time in the style of H G Wells time machine...back past green tench...past trips to far away fisheries...past the Morlocks and Eloi....back back in time to...Radford bottom Lock!

Yes, apparently the furthest back I can remember from these pictures was a fishing trip onto the Canal with my good friend and fellow blogger Mick from Piscatorial Quagswagging where we went in search of his old nemesis the Zander, and from what I recall it was a pretty good session for me. The chilly grip of winter still clung to spring as the two of us met up deep in the Warwickshire countryside. Mick was already fishing when I arrived with two gaudy floats positioned very professionally along the hull of a moored boat. Not long after saying hello one of the previously mentioned floats did a little dally before tootling off down the canal. Ever the experienced zed basher, Mick waited and waited before striking hard into nothing. The bite though was enough for me to cast my dead line along the hull of the boat, before being a right cheeky begger and poaching out his water by casting a light drop shot rig in between the lines of the dead bait rods. It only took a few casts to catch a tiny schoolie zed from right the trench next to the boat.

After moving through a few other swims we arrived at an area where I can remember thinking, 'I don't like the look of this'. As always my hunch was wrong and my float was soon heading off very quickly down the canal. Convinced a zander was the culprit, I was shocked when after a brief tussle a long spawned out perch rolled into my net. For all the dead baits I've cast into to canals I think I have only ever caught three perch on them. A month or so earlier this perch would have been quite a beast but at this point it was a very long way off regaining any condition.

Through the morning we tried all the known spots, one that looked perfect for zander and a ton we tried just to cover water. With three dead bait rods and one lure rod we covered just about every inch of water we could, with not much success at all really. It wasn't until we backtracked to the moored boat that we finally got some reward by way of a proper bus job; not one, but three fish all came along in the same few minutes of madness. My dead rod was the first to spring into life followed by Mick's. For some reason I chucked mine back out straight away with my fish in the net and whilst Mick waited for his active but unmoving float to go, I landed a second zed instantly to make myself a nice brace of schoolies.

Mick left not long after this, with cooking duties to attend to, but with a little more time to hand I stuck around to have a play around the lock with the dropshot rod. I love drop shotting and with some new Realistic shad spilt tails to try out it seemed the perfect time to try the out. There seemed to be small zander hanging out all round the features of the lock. Literally I did not seem to be able to go wrong! I took them off the stony incline into the lock mouth, from tight to the wall, from of the snag pile collected at the end of the overflow run and in the eddy it formed. Either these lures were the bomb or I was very lucky on this occasion. I think I added six more small zedlets to my tally before I left and it left me pondering the question...

Maybe I should take up competition lure fishing?

Whilst on the subject of lure fishing I have to regale one of my most exciting recent lure fishing experiences I've had, which happened not long after my canal zander adventure. A little while ago I bought at a very reasonable price some of these savage gear 3D suicide ducks.

Literally the 26g versions of these lures I bought retail at the insane price of £15 per lure. I have to be honest and truthful and say that I am far too stingy to ever throw a fifteen quid lure in a lake, but at half price I was hooked into buying a pair and after watching the online promo videos I was dying to fling these out. I had originally gone up to Napton to tench fish but after spending hours watching a motionless float and rolling tench in the middle of the lake, I packed away the float gear and pulled out a lure rod and ducks to see if I could tempt a pike to strike in the shallows at the south end of the lake.

After covering all the shallow water with the duck lure and being convinced I was fishing well, I was about to give up under the assumption that the pike were unwilling to come up and take something off the top. The water I was casting in was getting deeper and I never thought for a moment that a pike would be hanging round mid-water in such deep water. That was until on one retrieve when I was sure I spotted the water swell up like a fish had just struck but missed. Half thinking I'd spooked carp lying under the surface, I cast again hoping it was, in fact, a pike. A lo and behold it was! I cast well beyond where I thought it happened and just as the lure came into the target zone a wake appeared six feet behind the lure. I slowed my retrieve just slightly and boom, the fish accelerated into and right through the duck sending water everywhere and disappearing in a boil. It wasn't the biggest pike I have ever caught but damn it was the most exciting and one that has lit a fire to do some more surface lure fishing as soon as I get a chance  

Oh, and I went back and bought another pair of those lures next time I passed that shop to make sure I have these super exiting ducklings in my lure armoury for many years to come.

Not sticking to the rules thank god.

A full day of boats moving round a busy junction of the Grand union canal and the water is going to be pretty murky, right! Well that's what I thought and I was totally wrong. I ventured a out a few days ago for a short session on a primo bit of the GU and basically ended up having a weird arse about face session where everything I thought would be the case was not.

Big perch were what I was after and as it was to be an afternoon into dark affair I figured, as I mentioned before, that the boats which are prevalent in this area would have ploughed the canal turbid by the time I arrived. Hence I had armed myself with a float rod and generous amount of worms to attract the fish in the poor visibility. I always do this 'peering over the edge' thing when I walk onto a canal to get an impression of the water conditions. On this occasion my initial peering was followed by a head shake, an eye rubbing and a second peering. Good god it was well past dinner time and I could see two bricks sitting on the shallow margin. The water did have a tinge of green to it, but shockingly the visibility was easily fifteen inches or more.

Even with the less than ideal conditions I pushed on with my plan and went in search of cover to target. Without too much elaboration, the plying of worms onto the canal was a total waste of time. The perch had no intention of moving out of wherever they were hiding to eat in the open. My only hope for this session was the drop shot rod I'd bought along just in case. Maybe, just maybe, by working lures close cover I could persuade any would-be attackers to burst out and hit the lure in the clearer than normal conditions. This is where it really goes against mores supposed rules.

Considering the perch were reluctant to feed I really thought the low light loving zander would never be switched on in such clear water. So how surprised was I when I manoeuvred a small Savage gear 3D bleak close to a moored boat and straight away something snatched it, I was even more surprised when the culprit turned out to be a zander.

I thought maybe that one zander was just some rogue fish that hadn't read the zander rule book, but when a few jiggles of the lure later a second smaller one hit, it began to look like the zander were actually on the feed in the clear water.  By the time I'd notched up three more little zander which all went for the drop shot fished 3D bleak fished six inches off bottom, I was convinced they were really up for it.

Although my original perch plan was well and truly out the window, it turned out that I was out and fishing on one of the wondrous occasions when the fish are hungry, the conditions were apparently perfect and I was using the right lure/technique. The random flitting and dropping of the very life like bleak lure seemed to draw the zander in like moths to a flame and every one which went for the lure got hooked perfectly in top of the mouth before zipping off like a torpedo.

It wasn't just the tiny ones that were up for it either; there were better fish moving around as well. Most were in that half a pound to two pound range and I quickly figured they weren't just tight to the cover. Fishing the nearside shelf brought me a few fish and even a random cast into the centre of the trench brought a hint of interest.

The perch though were just not around or if they were they were well off the feed, which possibly had something to do with the change in temperature. By the end of the short session the sun had long disappeared, the sky was glowing wintry pink as the last rays disappeared, smoke rose from every chimney of every narrow boat that lined the canal and the surface of the canal was like a mirror. 

Although I hadn't come anywhere near catching what I intended to, I had actually had a great session catching quite a few little zander on the drop shot. Had it not been for those zander feeding when they normally wouldn't there was a good chance I would have just frozen half to death whilst blanking. Once the weather has settled down I know for sure I will be back to try for the big perch again and I certainly will be bringing the dropshot rod and those lures along as well.

The return, the wow and the exit!

I reckon it's safe to say that we have actually been enjoying a bit of an Indian summer this year. The leaves cling stoically to the trees and only now as we reach October are we beginning to feel that night time nip. As for me, I've been waiting for autumn to arrive so as to begin fishing the canals again after what seems like a long summer absence. This late heat has held me off for a while, as the lack of bad weather means the canal system is still rife with boats and there are only so many smiling boaters bidding me good day as they steam through my swim I can take.

Turns out it was an unplanned session that sent me back to the tow path though. I have been trying to align the all the stars correctly so as I could fish one last time for tench at Napton on a warm day, but every time I get a chance a fly lands in my ointment. This time it was a heavy downpour of overnight rain that got me thinking today was not the day. Lying in bed questioning what four hours of heavy cool rain might have done to the fishes feeding, I concluded a change of tack was in order. That decided an inventory of available bait was taken. The casters I had purchased might well compliment the worms I always keep around just in case, and if I am plying chopped worm and caster I may as well do it for big perch, and as I know a big perch honey hole on the canal I might as well take some dead baits and fish for zander!

So off to the perch honey hole I went with a bit of bait, my 9ft Shakespeare wand and a dead bait rod for good measure. The area I was heading to does seem to attract boats to moor up there for some unknown reason, so as I walked the tow path I was hoping it would be free, as fifty foot of narrow boat can really ruin this swim. Luckily even though there were boats moored up overnight in the area, the spot was clear and free, so I located myself dead centre of the sweet area and quickly baited up just off the shelf with a couple of pots of chopped worm and caster.

As the free bait stewed, sending its oozing scent off to draw in customers I set up the dead bait rod and placed the rig down the wind from the bait. Zander I know love worms and even though the bigger ones might not be concerned with rooting out small baits like worms as they did when they were smaller, they are still attracted by the smell, and a well placed dead bait in the scent trail is always a good place to start I reckon.

The rig I began with on the worm line was very unlike the normal rig I use in these situations. This was because with the brighter than normal conditions I felt I needed even the slightest edge, so the chubber float was done away with and replaced by a sensitive pole float. Normally I fish the three pound mainline direct to the large hook, but today a fine fluro hook link and fine wire size fourteen finished off the final foot. Even my bait was scaled back on this occasion and my normal split lobworm was replaced by a much smaller dendrobena.

Without blowing my own trumpet. Paaaaaaaaarp! My scaling down was pure genius! The thin red tip sent out the tiniest of ripples followed by a hint of a dip. Then after settling a moment it sank half way and I needed no second signal to strike. The rod took on a bend instantly and the standoff between man and fish was reached with the float out of the water only halfway up its carbon stem. There was a pause, with the float just hanging still above the turbid water... then the fish whipped off banging away for freedom. The well set clutch gave line perfectly and I just held as the rod absorbed the fishes power. It was a powerful fish and judging by the swirling water its might matched its size. I was almost disappointed when no spiny fin appeared and what looked like a decent hybrid rolled over. But then in the sexiest turn ever, she came up on the surface all silver with red dazzling fins and a face of a true thoroughbred canal roach.

What can I say of such a stunning fish, other than is there any better way to return to the canal in autumn than by catching a perfect and massive roach. Even more shocking is this is my third canal roach over 1.14lb. Surely this year a two has to come my way.

I was pretty stunned after that start and had a almost involuntary smile on my face when the zander exploded onto the scene. The first tiny one took a worm as I dropped it gently back onto the baited spot. As I released that one, out the corner of my eye I watched the small float tootling off under the water as another made off with the roach head dead bait.

After that they were like buses tracking up the wind to my bait. Simply put, every time I got the bait perfectly placed at the edge of the trench another zander would locate it in minutes. The average size was nice as well, with most of them being over three pounds and a couple closer to four.

Throughout the flurry of zander runs I was barely able to keep the worm line active in the water, though somewhere in the mess of dead baits, teeth and spines I had thought to keep the bait going in on the worm spot. When the runs eventually dried up I once again deployed the pole float rig and my attention to it. First drop in and the float never cocked properly. I struck just in case and was immediately playing yet another small but rather aggressive zander that had the biggest tail I have ever seen on a zander.

The swim eventually went quiet and it seemed the perfect time to try and top it back up with more worm and caster. The worm was topped up with one large shot and this time I held back on the casters flicking out six or so every ten minutes, until finally the swim sparked back into action. Finally a small but well proportioned perch turned up with a mouth full of casters. That single perch heralded the arrival of the striped crew. A few more small but good looking perch snaffled my worm before an unwanted crayfish made off with my bait and got a heel to the head for its trouble. The crayfish's corpse had barely made bottom before I had checked, re-baited and recast the rig onto the spot. The next bite was very confident, with one good dip before the float sailed off and I was finally playing a decent sized perch. A huge humped back and spiky fin was seen just as the net slipped under it.

The big perch had finally arrived after the little ones had led the way. I had another one of this near two pound stamp and several smaller ones of 10oz - 1lb before disaster struck. There had been boats passing me all morning and so far I had kept cool and calm fishing on the inside away from their track. The problem occurred when I spotted two narrow boats moving towards me from both sides. It didn't take long to figure they looked as if they might cross right in front of me. All I could do was watch as they slowly plodded towards me, as if in an old disaster movie where it takes ages for the punch to arrive. When they did finally cross things went even worse than I could have expected; one the boats was a rental and the inexperienced pilot cracked just as he crossed bows with the second boat. In a panic filled moment reverse gear was engaged and the tiller was pushed hard over for some unknown reason before forward thrust was re-engaged with extreme prejudice. In the blink of an eye my carefully prepared spot was decimated back further than it was than before I started.

My silent response to the boater's apology I think was more than enough to convey my anger. As tons of metal and wood chugged away from my swim the water swirled like the Severn in full spate. Rather than scream into the sky I quickly concluded it had already been a brilliant session, and rather than stick around to try and rebuild I opted to quickly pack up and disappear like a magician whilst the cloudy water hid my exit. As I walked away I tallied up seven zander and ten plus perch with a couple of near twos among them; good for relatively short session, but add in that superb roach and it adds up to an amazing return to the canal which really has me looking forward to future canal sessions and what surprises they could bring.

Canal grubbing.

Quite simply my latest outing on the tow path was an unmitigated disaster. Really I probably should have ventured to the river, but I was guilty of waiting for what I thought would be optimum conditions (which might not come at this rate). So I headed to the Coventry canal to see if I could try and pin down any groups of zander or perch in the area.

The moment I laid eyes on the canal I should have got back in the car and gone to another stretch. Probably being a bit pig-headed I thought I could root something out, but the conditions were against me with a big drop in temperature. The section I was on is very susceptible to a north wind battering which seemed to have stirred up the sediment as well, leaving the section where I was very coloured whilst reports that it was clear on sheltered areas northward.

As I mooched the tow path persevering, I came across something interesting though. The canals with their infestation of crayfish have really begun to suffer with collapsing banks. I never thought it was that much of an issue until I spoke to a chap on a work party a few years ago. He explained to me that the crayfishes burrowing was speeding up the erosion rates on sections that aren't lined with metal pilings. Anyway, the interesting thing I came across was that a large section of collapsed tow path had recently had new metal pilings installed and that behind them it had all been back filled. Given the lack of accessibility where I was, it doesn't seem likely they could have transported the material in to use to fill behind the piling. So more than likely I must have been sediment dug from the canal onto the bank.

This stuff was a treasure trove! As well as a of a couple hundred years of accumulated silt there was remnants of broken bottles, from the classic Budweiser bottle right back to vintage square pharmaceutical bottles, none of which were intact sadly. Along with bits of plastics and crisp packets dating back to my child hood was a lost or dumped American express card which went out of date fifteen years ago. But what interested me were the signs of aquatic life. Literally everywhere was peppered with shells. The amount of swan mussels alone was shocking, but they were outnumbered fifty to one by some kind of clam which it would seem at some point were very prevalent in this area.

I must've grubbed around kicking about in the newly exposed soil for a good three quarters of an hour hoping to find something good and in doing so began to see evidence that the soil was certainly from the canal bed. Weirdly though I had a little plumb around to see if the excavations had changed the depth, only to find little difference at all to what I would expect to find anywhere on the canal.

In the end I left and continued down the tow path and to maybe even find a fish or two. At the next spot I was trying to be a bit of a smart ass and began targeting a large half sunken branch which I thought might be a good holding area. First cast and my jig found a hold of the snag! Turns out my outfit and knots were capable of a bit more than I thought. The 8lb braid and 6lb fluro leader all held firm under pressure and just as I thought the line would give, the snag slowly moved towards me. With gentle pressure and my braid bedding down badly into the spool, I managed to drag that dammed snag all the way across the canal and right to the edge under me feet. The moment I grabbed hold of the stinking silt covered branch I wondered if there might be a lure or two hooked on it, and there was. Along with a few manky rubber lures was a shiny gem!

Whoever threw this into the Coventry cut needs their head looking at! From the shape of it I had an inkling of what it was, but if that wasn't enough it had the manufacturer printed on its back. It was Yo-zuri floating minnow which retails for around ten quid in the shops and it didn't look like it had been in the water long either. 

Finding that made a bad session a little easier to take, I can tell you. The rubbish/snag infested nature of the Coventry especially is the reason why I find myself reluctant to cast expensive lures into it. I myself have had days when I will lose three to five jig heads plus the accompanying rubber lures and losing them can total up to £10. Lose five top of the range hard lures and you could be looking at more like £50 or more.

In the end though the session came to naught really and even though it was interesting grubbing along the tow path and retrieving that lure was a plus point, I really should have followed my instincts and gone somewhere else on this occasion.

Save the zander.

Once again the subject of zander culling has reared its ugly head, this time by way of the Canal and River Trust asking anglers to donate to an ill-conceived fundraiser aimed at regenerating the roach population of the Grand union canal https://canalrivertrust.org.uk/donate/grand-union-roach-restoration-appeal Besides the preposterous idea of asking anglers for money so as to remove and kill born and bred English fish this subject just plain old incenses me!

I am an angler, canal angler and a zander angler. Having spent close to twenty-five years of my life fishing on the canals, specifically the last year pretty much solely fishing the canals, I find myself with a pretty good perspective of how they have changed over the years since the zander have colonized the midland canal network and the effects that colonization has had.

I find it very disappointing that an organization such as the Canal and Rivers Trust seem to have, with little research into the matter, come to the conclusion that the big bad in the canal ecosystem is the zander and that they are largely what is responsible for the decline of the roach. Well, first of all are the roach in decline? From what many anglers see, that might not be the case. Have they ever done any major research into roach numbers or are they just listening to fishing clubs moaning about the lack of them.

Have they even considered that there may be other contributing factors such as;
- Increased numbers of signal crayfish in the canals which feed on fish eggs.
- Increased amounts of detergents entering the water ways from the ever growing pleasure boat fleet possibly effecting reproduction.
- Increased numbers of larger perch due to the crayfish boom, which in turn consume large amounts small silver fish.
- Lack of suitable spawning sites due to inappropriate bank clearances and habitat removal.
- Reintroduction of other predators, such as otters.
- Increased agricultural chemical run off into the canal network as a result of wetter winters.

In all the limited information offered as justification, the CRT haven't really bothered addressing any of these other possible theories and just seem to suggest it's all down the zander.

As a regular canal angler I don't believe there is a lack of roach. In fact I for one believe the canals have quite a good balance of predator and prey fish. But what I believe is irrelevant as its the clubs who rent the stretches who are moaning about the lack of roach sport, and this leads me to the totally different point of view I have often wondered, which may sound a bit controversial 'Have anglers lost their canal fishing skills?'

When I began fishing the canals many years ago it was a world of squats, bloodworm/joker and half pound hook links. Now though we fish in a world of hundred pound bags of carp, pellets and where commercial lakes that have become popular. Now and again I have come across an angler fishing on a tow path, looked in their bait box and seen all the stuff I'd take carp fishing, but nothing I would use for roach fishing, such as bread punch or pinkies, and then I've looked at their set up and seen power waggler rods, massive floats and line so thick Argos would be ashamed to retail it. It's no wonder many pleasure anglers aren't catching much when they are using these inappropriate methods and tactics.

Frankly the canals have been forgotten by many of the angling fraternity in favor of easier venues, and if you want evidence of that, take a walk down your local cut any Sunday of the year and I guarantee you'll be lucky to see any anglers. Conversely head to any commercial fishery and it will more than likely have anglers dotted all round the place. The majority of people fishing the canals nowadays are predator anglers after perch and zander, or the occasional stalwart canal angler who can put together a nice bag of silver fish. So if you take away half the fish those anglers are targeting the only thing this cull will achieve is fewer anglers on the bank, which works against what they are trying to achieve.

Does culling zander actually even work? The simple answer is NO! Removing zander is the single biggest waste of money in angling. I live in an area which was considered an epicenter of the zander population by many, and over the years I have fished stretches on different canals before and after the culls have taken place and guess what, zander always come back every time!

Only the other day I was out on a stretch of canal that has been targeted multiple times for zander culls as its within easy access, and here are a few examples of what those culls achieved.

Absolutely nothing! The zander were moving back into that stretch before the people who did the culling were even back in their cars, because the canals are a massive open network. Furthermore, in many cases the lack of larger zander causes the amounts of tiny little zander to increase exponentially, and those hungry miniature zander are eating machines that thrive on devouring fry.

Going back to this roach restoration project though, I actually think that trying to increase the roach numbers is a good thing, even if I consider the method of removing zander to be a waste of time and money. What everyone involved should realize is that more prey fish means more predators and as they won't stop the zander coming back there will ultimately be more zander when they repopulate once there's a bloom in roach.

Time and time again this subject always comes back to the same old conclusions. The more open minded of us understand that zander are here for good and that nature finds a balance; with a healthy predator prey balance, and that after nearly fifty years the zander should be naturalized. Then there's the anglers out there that can't see past the end of their keepnet, who believe that because they haven't caught a fish a cast from the small section of canal their club rents, that the entire canal is devoid of silver fish, and because they obviously need something to blame, they conclude its all down to the zander. I feel I should mention that prior to zander it was the pike who was to blame; I for one remember the bad old days when clubs requested that pike under five pounds to be killed!

Ultimately the ship has sailed on zander being in our water ways. Their population is so big and widespread that no cull will ever be effective. That means any cull which does take place is quite literally mass killing for the sake of appeasing a small section of anglers who believe that killing a few predators will stick a few more roach in their nets. But ask yourself this 'what if it doesn't?' What if doing this doesn't increase the roach populations. Surely if the angling trust wants to really increase the roach populations they should just concentrate on improving the reproduction rates of the roach in other ways rather zander genocide.

So this brings me to this! The Canal and River Trust are using the Internet and social media to appeal to anglers for money to actually remove and kill zander. Well the Internet is an open forum so have your say if you object to them killing the fish many of us want to catch by showing support for the zander at
https://www.facebook.com/Save-the-UK-Zander-1094522530560270/?fref=ts

And send a message to the Canal and River Trust airing your opinion on their Facebook page.
https://www.facebook.com/Canalrivertrustangling/?fref=nf

Or if anyone who reads this has any friends who work in the angling media give them a nudge and see if they might bring some of these issues up in their publications.

I think all I can say to end is to reiterate my own opinion that zander are here to stay, no culls or surveys will change that and with the zanders rise in popularity as a target species the only option that remains is to naturalize them and let nature take its course.

Save the zander!

Perchtopia.

Peering through the mist, I trudged on looking for the shape of a man on the tow path. It looked a perfect morning for a spot of perch fishing, but first I needed to locate my companion for the session. Jeff had been mysterious about his instructions and said little more than "walk down the canal". He was right in saying this spot was a bit out there, as I'd been walking for what seemed like ages along the tow path and was getting worried I may soon arrive in Oxford.

Finally, what looked like a hunched figure appeared in the mist sitting on the edge of a bend. As always the banker swim looked exactly like every other bit of canal you ever see, tow path, twenty four inches of patchy dog shit infested grass, sixteen meters of questionable water and a hawthorn covered far bank. The only difference between this spot and any other was the presence of Jeff and as he like me is a avid canal lingerer, it must mean there was a reason for him being here setting up his fishing pole.

It's weird seeing Jeff pole fishing! I am far more used to him sitting behind rods pondering the water whilst twiddling his moustache, rather than him sitting upright staring down a pole waiting for whisp of a pole float to dip momentarily. I suppose the best comparison I can make to seeing him pole fishing is it's like seeing a donkey smoke a cigar. Saying that after watching him do it for a couple of hours I can't deny thinking he has really taken to it, so much so that I can picture him clad head to toe in matching sponsors clothing, sitting atop a fishing box not dissimilar to the Tardis wielding five grands worth of carbon fibre; then again there's probably more chance of Jeff becoming the next Doctor Who than turning into a match man.

Bar Jeff starting to put a match winning weight together and me catching a very cute little ruffe, the banker swim was not really producing any dividends. Once I got itchy feet it wasn't hard talking Jeff into a move and after a short jaunt we found a little bit of far bank cover we both fancied.

A pot of worm chopped fish heroin later and the session turned into a blur. I remember thinking Jeff was in the hot spot when he instantly hooked a skimmer followed by two big perch off the hull of a moored boat, but then the square meter I was concentrating on sparked into life.

I've fished my own secret perch squirrel hole enough to know when you've struck gold and this was gold, pure gold. I quickly realized it wasn't the odd nugget either when I hooked a really chunky near two pounder.

Then followed it with another...

This area was alive with big perch and amazingly none of them seemed to be small at all. Quickly it became a case of adding more bait, waiting a while and then another hard fighting perch came along. Then somewhere amongst the perch insanity the zander turned up to the party and the bulbous zeppler float toddled off along the canal.

We had only been in this new spot for an hour or more and we both looked like we were in shock. Probably the only thing that was more shocking that the amount of action we were getting would be what the underwater scene must have looked like, with big perch mooching everywhere and a shoal of zander marauding around. No wonder we weren't getting any small fish with that lot down there, as anything less half a pound with half a brain was far away from this predator orgy. As long as we had worm to hold them the perch just kept coming.

With barely a feed worth of worm left I got myself in a right old mess. I'd had a very fast run where the float was literally shooting across the surface of the canal. After connecting with a spirited zander and fighting it for only seconds the hook had pulled, sending my float back onto the bank along with a load of line. As I tried to make sense of the mess the trace and hook found their way into my lap. Draped in line I noticed the float on my perch line spring to life. I struck out of instinct but was still trying to clear the line from around me and as I did somehow pulled the hook right into the groin of my trousers. Still playing a fish covered in line with a hook uncomfortably close to my genitals I did my best to keep my cool. But when a huge stripy flank rolled mid water I panicked. Luckily Jeff had also seen the fish and was already grabbing for my net. After a short but careful fight a big perch skimmed over the cord of the net. It turned out to be the biggest of the day at 2.6lb and given its young appearance it won't be long before it's a three.

A couple of hours over our allotted knock off time we both ran out of worm and not long after that the capture of a sub pound fish heralded the end of this enlightening adventure. I finished with seven perch between just under two pounds and a bit over. Jeff had four by my count bringing our tally to eleven good perch. Add into that a few lost fish and it ended up a pretty special session. The only question that remains in my mind now is how big do they grow, if on my first session this was the average stamp of fish in the area. I know the thought of all those perch is etched into both mine and Jeff's minds now, but I also know the next time we go back those amazing fish might well be like ghosts.

Lure fishing microcosm.

Since beginning my lure fishing journey I have learnt that the world of lure fishing is just as, if not more than, as expansive as all the other fishing genres I have come across before. It's not just the array of millions of lures, the vast colours that they come in and the different sizes that I am referring to either; every lure can be used in so many different ways and different situations.

One particular facet I have been intrigued by lately is micro jigging. I love casting jigs anyway and already had some tiny jig heads and tiny lures which I had not really had any great success with until recently.

I actually started messing around with this technique a little while ago, but it was only the other day that I went out to specifically concentrate on doing it. At first when I had a go a while back I made the mistake of actually casting the tiny jigs out into the canal, it was then that I concluded that beyond a rod length out you really lose all contact and control of the lure. Between under a rod length out to right under your feet they are deadly. Having the lure on a constant tight line and using a light rod means you can impart some pretty damn sexy movements on the lure with the slightest flick of the wrist. Fishing like this also changes the way you look at a canal, and all the normal distracting far bank features fail to register as you concentrate on the four feet from the bank which is now your microcosm. Doing so turns what to most seems like a small gap between two boats into the micro jigging equivalent of a ten acre lake.

Tiny is the order of the day and this Crazy Fish cruel leech mounted on a size 8 two gram jig head worked perfectly to compensate against the slight yet disruptive tow on this occasion. The little black lure wiggles like a hula girl with the very slightest of rod movements.

Although I only had a few hours to fish, my micro attack proved to work perfectly. I had to work along a bit of tow path until I found a concentration of fish holding tight to the concrete lined margin, but once I found them it was one fish after another with perch making up the majority of the captures.

What has surprised me was how many fish you could catch from one area. In a normal casting situation I have found you easily spook fish out of spot by hooking a few of their mates. Fishing these light lures into a shoal seemed to have little effect until I'd had hooked loads of them and been hit by even more.

The zander too seemed to be hanging out in the shoals of perch, although these young immaculate hunters seemed to prefer the lure to be moving further and quicker than the perch which seemed more attracted to a gentle off the bottom wiggling lure.

I have to say I really like this micro margin jigging, but to balance the tackle and make everything move naturally I was having to fish some very light fluorocarbon leaders of around 4lb in breaking strain which would be OK if a big perch turned up. A better zander though could make mince meat out of such delicate tackle so really even if you see an opportunity of a bigger zed or jack pike the whole leader would have to be changed in order to reduce the risk getting cut off. Saying that, I reckon some of the lures I have been using are so small they might well not register on a big predators radar and given that most of the waters I am fishing are the colour of milky tea I'd probably never know if a big fish was hiding right under my feet.

Just one more spot.

Sometimes there is nothing worse than having a preconceived idea of how a fishing session will go. Last week I ended my session on the fish. By that I mean I was lure fishing, had located fish and was getting hits even though I wasn't converting them. Time though ran out on me and I had to walk away from fish which were up for attacking what I was offering. So for days prior to getting out all I could think of was getting back and finding that shoal of zander and trying pick up where I'd left off.

I was convinced that they would still be in the area as they seemed to be lingering off the edge of a collection of flotsam pushed into a bend by the wind, and given conditions had been consistent, I was sure it would still be there with the shoal of zander somewhere nearby.

On the tow path again I headed straight for the area and began exactly as I had left off, bouncing a two inch orange koypto shad slowly across the bottom. But the zander it seemed had been replaced by snags. Quite honestly the week before I had not found a single snag in the vicinity, today though every other cast found one. I'd sacrificed two brand new lures and leaders to the canal before I eventually moved off.

After a little explore I found myself fishing right alongside the debris littering the surface on the bend, whilst trying desperately to not stand in any of the hundreds of dog turds that litter the bank. Still though I couldn't raise any attention after two hours had elapsed. By now I'd been through most of my A-team of lures using various speeds of retrieve. The really worrying thing was that last time the little perch had also been up for it and this time like the zander they seemed to be very absent, which seemed to indicate nothing at all was on the hunt.

It was the faithful black curly tail grub which broke the stalemate in the end and found a small zander under the rubbish. That first one came off but a few casts later I snagged its bristling and angry shoal mate.

I really thought that was it and now I had located them it would all kick off, but before it had begun it just fizzled out and I couldn't find another willing fish. So we decided to move on to another stretch a car drive closer to home on the same canal to see if we would fare any better there. The area we arrived at had been very reliable over the colder months and I hoped it would be on this occasion too. In truth, it too was off form and after well and truly thrashing the water to a foam, I was elated to hook a sprightly micro jack which was hanging around just on the marginal shelf.

The next day I was planning to fish the same canal in a different area, but the lack of interest had me thinking that zander and perch were not responding to lures very well at all at the moment. Not wanting to write it off I decided to still go ahead with the session but rather than just commit everything to the lure fishing, I'd take a light dead bait outfit along to see if they might be interested in a static bait rather than a moving lure.

My worries that I wouldn't get much response on the lures were well founded. Once again I worked hard to wring anything out of all the areas I fished, but no matter what changes I made I could not fathom out what it was going to take get these fish to actually lash out at a lure.

On the other hand every swim I cast a dead bait into was populated by something interested in eating the small roach on my line. As with many waterways the signal crayfish seems to be making a big impact on the midland canal network. Undoubtedly their spreading population is contributing to larger fish sizes, but the little beggars are a proper pest when you're dead baiting. Although I was lucky and didn't lose any gear I did have to pry my hook from down a few crayfish burrows throughout the morning.

By midday the sun was out and I had just about had it! I'd been casting and moving constantly since early morning and had nothing at all to show for my efforts. Having travelled so far along the canal I had actually come close to a swim I used to fish many moons ago that had good record for holding perch. Thinking this would be my last chance to break the blank, I decided to fish one last area just in case.

After dropping the dead bait on the far bank to my left I went about working the swim over using a tiny green koypto that has scratched me a few bites in the past. I'd hooked and removed a couple of minor snags and had not long dispatched one of them behind me when my float began moving as if something with claws was dragging it off. I watched it thinking I would have to sort that out before it got dragged away, when the float did a single large bob and the culprit quickly went from crayfish to small zander in my head. I've seen enough little zander picking up baits to think this was definitely one. Crouching down by the rod I waited as the float did that little circular movement they so often down when a schoolie is farting around with the bait. I waited and waited for it to actually run before I struck and then as the float slid off I struck low and hard.

The tightening braided line instantly drove the hook home and the fish shot off. I've had loads of zander do this when hooked; they shoot off in a moment of panic and run about ten feet or so generally in the direction the float was travelling and it's really hard to keep a tight line. This one headed straight towards me on my right hand side. Luckily the reel picked up the line quickly as and the rod bent over. For a moment I was being a bit blase, but then I saw a huge white flash in the murky canal water and the fish went from schoolie to monster.

The bite was awful, fight wasn't epic but my panicking excitement made up for that, especially when the fish came to the surface shaking its head trying its best to discard the hook. It was then it really hit home what I had on the end of my line. With the thoughts of a hundreds zander getting away I was desperate to get this one into the net. With only a fleeting moment of worry when it seemed reluctant to cross the cord, the fish was in the net. Resting in the edge it looked huge from above and then on the bank it seemed even bigger.

It was absolutely fighting fit and perfect in every way apart from the top of it tail being missing. Looking closely, the wound was perfectly healed and looked to be from a boat propeller or possibly an otter attack. Either way it had healed up well and judging from the condition of this magnificent fish, it wasn't effected by the missing bit of tail.

I knew how heavy I thought it was going to be before I even put it on the scales or maybe how heavy I wanted it to be, but it didn't quite make it. It was two ounces off what I so wanted it to be, but was still I very happy with 9.14lb and it truly made walking that little bit extra and giving one last spot a go before chucking in the towel worth it.

Fun in the sun.

I couldn't get out of the car quick enough and into the fresh air. My whole body was tingling and I could feel my internal temperature maxing out. The moment the hand brake was on I pushed the door open and the cool outside washed over me. Like a child trying to throw off a coat, my hands were stuck into the cuffs of my winter coat which only added to my panic. The coat finally gone I instantly bent over retching as my stomach turned. The convulsions only last seconds and soon I was upright sucking cold air through my nose. My eyes were watering as was my mouth, but the worst of it was over and I could feel myself cooling and my mind cleared enough for me to now think, what the hell was that all about.

That was not a good way to start a session, but it's not the first to begin like this lately. A little while ago back I had the very same sensation after driving a large proportion of the A46 in fog. On that occasion I was sure I was travel sick due to my eyes and my brain not marrying up over the strange focal range. This occasion too I think could be attributed to travel sickness as the entire twenty minutes driving prior to me parking I was travelling at speed with nothing but the back of a huge truck to focus on. For a while in my late teens I suffered from travel sickness, but that stopped once I learnt to drive. I think maybe a trip to the opticians might be in order just to check that my glasses prescription doesn't need updating.

All that palaver aside I did actually stick around to actually do some fishing. Years ago I fished a bit of canal literally in the middle of nowhere and it was its remoteness that in my opinion made it so good. I was hoping it was still as good as it was and that it was still stuffed with prime naive zander for me to angle after and cast a few lures at.

I began at a spot where an ancient crumbling brick wall lined the canal. After I let rip on the first cast I watched from under the woolly hat which I still wore to cover my sensitive ear as the line arched off down the canal in the bright sun. A few more searching casts in and I got hit by something determined as the lure came over the shelf. I got a brief view of a good perch before it threw the hook. It's always a relief to get an early hit as it gives you a focal point to cast at. Several repeated casts later I hooked into either the same fish or it's shoal mate in exactly the same spot, which turned out to be a an equally heavy set perch.

Its strange that the first fish I encountered was a perch as even though they must be resident, this canal had no real reputation for them. Zander though used to be unbelievably prolific in this murky water, and they still are as I found out in my next spot situated in some heavy cover. I'd barely had to search them out as I just saw a very zander looking haunt cast to it and got instantly hit my a little zedlet. Next cast too produced a few grabs and then I finally found a slightly better fish half way across the trench.

The sun though was getting brighter as it began to peep over the trees over the far bank and I was thinking this could make all the difference as the day wore on, but luckily it didn't and even begin blinded by the sun the fish still responded to my lures hitting the water. It was the ever faithful silver and black Koypto that sorted a bigger fish out. I'd just lifted and let the lure drop when the line suddenly tightened and changed angle by forty-five degrees. After a really good scrap a very angry zander was in hand, bristling in the sun.

I had to work for it but the action kept up through the rest of the session and although I didn't catch anything much bigger I did find quite few other fish willing to have a go at the lures in the sun. All in all it was a very satisfying return to an old haunt, and I don't think it will take me that long to come back again as I know there are some proper big girls lurking in this water way, as well as the large numbers of smaller fish which gave me action right up until the last cast.