Unpredictable as ever.

The image of an angry zander flaring its gills and surging away attached to my line fed my mind for a week as my body operated on auto pilot completing five days of work drudgery. I couldn't wait to get back onto the Coventry to jiggle some half worms around and try to entice some more of those over-keen silver predators, and why shouldn't I! After all, what could change in a week...

The answer to that previous statement is, a lot! A lot can change in week or more specifically how a canal is fishing can change a lot in a week. I went round to Jeff's on my way to the cut and as luck would have it he too was on his way out after zander. He though had fished the canal for two days prior and was full of bad tidings and woe, for his efforts on the previous two days he had returned exactly nothing. He had however watched a chap getting bites in one swim and that was where he was heading. 

Although others areas called me I went with Jeff's local knowledge and whilst he offered a couple of dead baits on the far bank, I baited a spot in the margin and went about repeatedly lifting my rod gently so as to send my gyrating worm into a hypnotic dance not unlike that of a miniature hula girl. Not long in I got a quick tug I suspected was down to a small perch. It took a fair old bit of work and time before I finally hit into a fish by way of a nice pound plus perch. Then not long later, a second slightly smaller shoal mate obliged me.

The zander though were conspicuous by their absence. As I made clear to Jeff on the bank I have seen definitive evidence that small roaming zander are particularly susceptible to this worm wiggling and if I haven't caught any of them it seemed quite likely that the entire zander population could be on an off day. So we moved on driven by the hope that it was just this area that wasn't fishing. After fishing another swim where I caught only a micro perch we pushed onto a banker of a spot, and on the way I did bait a couple of spots as insurance should we draw a blank at the banker.

I think we both had a gut feeling that the even the banker wouldn't pay off on this session and after a long walk and not much fishing we turned back. One of the spots I had baited previously was the area me and Rob used to fish years ago and I was keen to give it a whirl as the sun sank off the water. I worked the area over well for a while as I chatted to Jeff with nothing to show for my effort. That was until I put my rod down on the bank with the bait still on the spot whilst I looked for something in my rucksack.

More intent on trying to find something deep in the overstuffed bag I missed the first few twitches in the slack braided line. It took a real twitch for me to catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye. Luckily the rod was right beside me on the floor and before the line went tight I struck. I do remember half laughing and thinking some silly little perch had eaten this nub of worm hanging off some really stiff fluorocarbon. That was until I spotted a big silver flank in the murky water. If you’re thinking I had finally caught a zander then you would be quite wrong as I had managed to land my second decent roach on a drop shot rig. Although this one at least didn't take a moving bait like the last one.

It was by sheer persistence that Jeff managed to scratch not two runs by fishing far closer to the far bank than I am sure most pole anglers would have felt comfortable with. The first tepid movement of his float fizzled into nothing, then a definite run came to nothing before his float did a proper dally across the surface towards a snag, which did result in the one and only zander of the session.

Now I know it could've been said that it might have just been a case of us not giving the zander exactly what they wanted on the day, but in reality I don't think that was the case on this occasion. Both me and Jeff with literally thousands of hours of canal zander fishing experience could barely raise more than a couple of half-hearted moments of interest by fishing two proven methods in what weren't really bad conditions. Now if I hadn't of had any interest from the perch I would have said that the entire fish population had shut down, but that wasn't the case, it was definitely just the zeds that had gone off the feed. So now I suppose it becomes a question of what is it that zander are so sensitive to that everything else isn't? It would be only too easy to point the finger at the light levels, if it wasn't the fact light levels on the canal seem to not really apply as the water on canals is so heavily coloured year round. The temp too I suppose could be a suspect if it wasn't that air temperature changes take prolonged periods of time to effect change on water temps and we hadn't seen any prolonged periods of cold. 

Now I could probably go through every possible effecting factor and rabbit on for pages about wind, barometric pressure, moon phases, rainfall, feeding cycles, the lot. But in truth after fishing for canal zander for well over ten years, my experienced opinion on what happened on this past week is this; as with all aspects of zander fishing and zander feeding there are literally no hard and fast rules and the damn things are the most unpredictable fish in the canal as far as I am concerned. It's quite likely that next time I go back to this spot they might well be feeding on the surface in clear water on a bright sunny day taking bloody bread. So I suppose the only thing I can do when I go back...is pack a few slices of bread.

Strange but true.

Gagging! That is a good way to describe it. I was gagging to get back to the rediscovered feature I had found previously. My mind had been working overtime in the few days that had passed since I had fished it, all the information collected both past and present had bubbled away and distilled in the cauldron that is my mind; the result as far I was concerned, was nothing less than endless possibilities.

The dark and its ability to coerce the shy to feed attracted me so I was always going to do a short night session, and what better accessory to lurk in the bank of the Coventry cut with on a weekday night than a Jeff Hatt. I mean what self respecting canal angler is seen on the Coventry without a Jeff Hatt nowadays.

It was mid-week before I was back and I'd been through the mill thinking how I wanted to fish it again. There was no doubt worms would be involved as well as dead baits, but how to fish those worms was the quandary. The reason for my confusion was the confirmation of the presence of that relative canal rarity the chub, and big ones from what I'd heard on the tribal drums. I didn't fancy fishing a light float rig at night and the thought of using an alarm to try and catch a canal chub left me feeling a little dirty. In the end it just seemed perversely logical to fish a river method on a canal. So I cracked out the Avon quiver and set up a small link ledger rig and strapped on the old tip light.

We hadn't even got to the spot in the dark before I dropped a clanger. As we left the parked car a man passed us eating a bag of chips. Walking at a brisk pace keen to get fishing we caught him up as he turned onto the canal. I kind of forgot he was walking in front of us as we tracked the wet tow path and I spotted a row of moored narrow boats. Spontaneously I broke in a serious bout of verbal diarrhoea proclaiming that I bet one of these darn boats was parked right in front of the spot. I carried on spewing  profanities all the way down the tow path working myself into a slight fervour as I did. Then when I spotted a boat in the distance I really went for it. It was about then that the now forgotten man who wasn't far in front of me turned and in a slightly annoyed tone proclaimed it was his boat! eep...

Luckily for all parties he wasn't moored exactly on the spot and after settling right at the bow of his boat he went about choking us with diesel fumes and we went about fishing. Both me and Jeff had our little moments in the dark trying to ready rigs. Soon enough though we had lit up floats bobbing around on the canal and illuminated tips floating in the air.

Put in simple terms it went mental from the off! Jeff barely had his ledger rod out before my tip got yanked round. I was flapping round playing what felt like decent fish in the dark. It wasn't battering me like I thought a chub would but I did get a glimpse of subtle gold in the dark. Jeff got it in the net in the light of his head light and we both peered into the net to see a relatively large roach bream hybrid.

More roach than bream I think.

Then on the way back from releasing my capture away from our swim Jeff informed me of my dancing dead bait float, from then on out it went mental. I landed a decent schoolie zander and by the time I'd unhooked and relocated it, Jeff's swim had erupted in a flurry of runs.

Honestly I thought this was going to be the zander session of a lifetime for us both and that it would work its way into some sort of magnificent crescendo involving at least one personal best for one of us. That was until the arse fell out of the session when the rumble of the narrow boats engines stopped and the runs evaporated. It did take a while for us to associate the two together, but after it had sunk in the strange theory that the fishes feeding was somehow intertwined with the rumble of the diesel powered combustion engine did seem correct.

The session went so bad that after an hour or two of lip flapping and chin wagging we called an end to it as we really did seem to be lurking around in the dark for nothing and I for one who had come straight from work, was starving.

My next strange encounter came a few days later. After possibly the most productive Saturday ever, where I not only completed a shopping trip with JB, visited a garden centre and traversed a large proportion of Warwickshire to complete a couple of chores from my Nan I found myself thinking that I could eek out a little more of the day and snatch a witching hour session on a nearby bit of canal.

Fifteen minutes later I was pulling into a secluded canal car park hoping not to have to interact with any doggers that might be out for a bit of Saturday night amusement. Truly I don't know why  had gone back to this section of cut as it has about as good a reputation for predator fishing as the average puddle in the street. Why it should be so bad is beyond me as it's got loads of prey fish, plenty of cover and a growing population of crayfish as well. 

Anyway I keep trying here now and again in a vain hope it might come good and this short session seemed the perfect trip to waste on such an endeavour. I only had my drop shot rod, net and back pack with me so as I could keep on the move. My plan, if I had one, was to keep myself in good vantage points of the canal as dusk crept in and that if I saw any topping prey fish I would home in on them thinking that any predator might also do so.

Sure enough it worked, in a way... Quite early on I spotted three fish top in one area, then as I approached, two more flickered above the water sending ripples across the flat surface. I concentrated flicking some new micro glow in the dark lures all around the canal working the area systemically as all the books say you should. 

Soon enough the dark was not far off and I made a snap decision to switch over to walking the worm. I thought the added scent of the broken worm might become key as the visibility dwindled. So I slowly began creeping a large worm around the trench of the canal. I must of been at it for half an hour before I got any reaction. By now it was totally dark, and I mean countryside dark not that close to the city dark, so I could barely see a thing. I was trying to pinpoint the location of a warbling pheasant in the trees over the canal when I felt a definite tap come back up the braided line. I slowed the retrieve down and kept the bait moving and sure enough I got a second tap. But nothing took the bait after that so I swung the rig along the approximate line of the last cast and began again. I felt another tap and was itching to strike when I hit the forth.

The fish shot around in the dark and naturally I attributed this keen fight to a small zander. I even saw a flash of silver when I flicked my head torch on to land it. When I finally stooped to net the fish I got the shock of my life as I was confronted not by a juvenile zander but instead by a big old roach with my huge drop shot hook undoubtedly hooked through its top lip.

I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing as I laid what looked like a possibly a pound of roach down on the long damp grass. It wasn't a youngster either as far as I could tell from the general wear and tear on its body, so naivety was no explanation for it grabbing my moving worm. This dog of an old roach had in no uncertain term attacked my drop shot fished lob worm.

Ever since catching that fish I've tried to reason and explain what happened there, and about the best I can come up with was that it was a one off where me fishing what is favourite roach bait on a snail pace retrieve, combined with the dark related over confidence and hunger, caused that fish to think 'I ain't letting that big old juicy worm get away!'. I have to think this or I will feel that all those hours I've spent reading about the delicate feeding roach were a total waste of my time.

Forgotten features.

At a quarter to eight I opened my crusty eyes and reached for my next to useless mobile phone. Even though it was quite light by now the sight of the glaring screen forced my eyelids back down. After scrolling through the various screens I arrived at the alarms page to see all the helpful little green alarm clock shaped symbols which indicated a set alarm still staring back at me. This must be the thirtieth damn time this has happened and maybe the fifth when I was meant to be going fishing. If I was drunk and didn't actually need the stupid thing I would have throw it in a rage across the room.

It was strange though that this should happen on this morning, as the night before I had said to JB that I hadn't made my mind up where to go as yet and intended to do so in the morning. Now I found myself lying under a warm duvet pondering where I should go with three hours scratched off my session. Turns out the noise of me thinking roused my other half, who after repositioning herself, chatted to me in sleepy tones. In these situations I am never normally that receptive to suggestions, but when JB suggested maybe I should just head to a nearby canal I remembered I have for the longest time intended to scout out a section of cut I haven't fished in years.

I was generally quite upbeat and excited even though I was on my way to a bit of a back up session. This canal when I fished it years ago really had its poignant moments and I was hoping it would once again live up to my expectations, then seeing it again the banks held a forgotten familiarity. It might have been bit of a gamble but I intended again fish the drop shot rig and walk the worm around so as I could cover maximum ground, mapping the topography of the bottom for future reference if I was going to return.

My starting point was going to be a spot that always produced some nice perch. Disappointingly the old tree that used to hang low over the cut was long gone and with it the perch that resided in its shade. There was still plenty of far bank cover though and two hours were easily consumed bouncing baits back and forth all over the canal. I couldn't buy a bite for love nor money until I arrived opposite an odd feature on the far bank. First cast at it and a few flicks of the rod and I felt something snatch at the worm which was followed by the rod bending over. After zipping around in the muddy water, a small zander of two pounds thrashed shaking it's head angrily into my net. I was sure there would be others around so rather than mess around I slipped the little zed back away from where I was fishing and quickly cast again. But that was it for that spot, even after thrashing the surface into a foam I could buy another bite.

If I thought that first feature was odd the second one I found could only be described as rare as hen's teeth. In all my years of lingering on canals I have never seen such a prominent, attractive and yet probably over looked feature as this. It's rare that I am one hundred percent convinced that will catch in a spot, sure I like to think I can spot a good swim, but I am never totally convinced. Yet here I was looking at this one, knowing that it would produce.

I picked the biggest, juiciest worm out of the tub, hooked it up and swung it out across the canal. That first retrieve revealed a clean and smooth run back to the bank. The second confirmed fish were present and the on the third a small vicious zander mullered the worm.

After releasing that first fish and going in again I couldn't seem to go wrong wherever I cast. There were perch and small zander all over the area and every cast I could feel them nipping at my worm as it danced enticingly among them, until one engulfed the whole bait and the rod juddered over. It was great fun just catching all those little predators, but as always I soon enough I began to wonder where the bigger ones might be.

In an hour or more of fishing I had figured there was a central concentration of fish in front of the feature, so it wasn't too much to theorize that any bigger predators might be close by but not in the shoal. So I began casting around the hot spot looking for something a bit bigger. Low and behold I was proved right when I felt a really hard hit shoot back up the tight line. The rod instantly bent and the clutch gave line straight away. I have already noted whilst walking the worm that you seem to get a harder fight out of zander when they have actively hit a moving target. This fish was really giving it some and when I saw a flash of white under a big boil I thought I had contacted with the mother of all canal zander. The fight though soon became far to protracted for any zander no matter how aggressive a fish it could be. Then when it came up again I saw a different tail to that of a zander and the mystery was solved.

Twice the long lean little pike tail walked as I got it close to the net. It even thrashed on the surface with it's mouth wide open a few times before it went in the net. Then once in the net it was like a timid little kitten and just lay there looking meek. I have to say that I have never seen such an immaculate canal pike ever; it was literally perfect from head to tail.

After that I knew it was time to leave, but I know I will be going back that spot as soon as reasonably possible, as after seeing what is attracted to that very rare feature and knowing what fish this canal contains, I suspect there is something very, very special that at least visits this spot now and again.

I felt a bit stupid walking back to the car as I've known of this places existence for donkeys years and for one reason or another I've never been back to check it out. Now I am kicking myself for not following my instincts and going back sooner to rediscover this forgotten feature.

Taking my worms out for walkies.

I will start by saying that it's been an uneasy transition from bait to lure for me. The idea of drop shot fishing really appeals, but the physical evidence that bait can out-fish a lure nine times out of ten dampens my enthusiasm. A possible answer came from a video I watched online of Des Taylor. He was fishing a drop shot rig but instead of using a bit of rubber to entice a hit he was using an actual worm. I was aware he did this before now but never typed it into google before, and when I did find and watch the YouTube video I was sold. It just seemed perfect for me to try as I can't quite commit totally to fake fish and yet I have absolute confidence in worms, as after all they are my first choice bait when asked the question 'if you could only ever use one bait again in your life what would it be?'.

So with a bait box full of various size worms nestled next to a box full of state of the art rubber, I hit the tow path. Even though my main intent was to dropshot I couldn't resist adding a little more weight to my light roving kit by way of a dead bait rod rigged up with a small float set up and a pack of dead roach in my back pack. Really I don't know why I haven't been taking this out whenever I go out lure fishing, as just I know flicking out a dead in the margins or down the cut quite often brings a few bonus fish. Lucky I did bring it along for the walk as after spending a good hour working over a section of canal I'd had exactly zero hits on the drop shot rod.

I knew a shoal of zander had turned up in the area when the float began tootling off across the canal surface. I missed that one but after casting the roach tail straight onto the spot again the float went straight under. The single o'shanassy hook took hold well on the strike and soon a little schoolie was in the net.

I persisted casting the rubber lures around all afternoon as I made my way down the tow path. Every now and again I was getting taps which I suspected might have been tiny perch. After making a few adjustments to the rig I spotted a tiny zander of no more than six inches long turn off at the surface as I lifted my lure. Straight away I slowed the retrieve down from a tortoise pace to a snail pace and bang I hooked one up. By fishing this way I managed to start hooking up with the veracious little critters but still the bigger fish were eluding me.

The change came when I switched over to fishing the worm or should I say walking the worm. With an hour to go before the light began to fade I swapped over. I did continue to really crawl the baits around and straight away exactly what I needed to happen, happened. As I dropped the worm something grabbed it, my incessant jiggling of the rig smacked the hook home and a nice two pounder surged angrily off down the canal.

This was just what I needed to instil some proper confidence into the method for me. Not ten feet and three casts later it happened again as I worked the tempting worm up onto the marginal shelf. This time though the water erupted and a nice size zander did a rather shocking jump before really kicking off in the margin. I've always thought zander don't fight that hard, this one though went berserk after that razor sharp hook bit hard into the scissors of it's mouth.

Now I was really buzzing after hooking two good fish in succession and it didn't stop there either. As the dark began to creep into the sky the perch really turned on the feed. Every cast I could feel them nipping at the worm shortening it down to a nub by the time I'd reeled it back. I was going through worms at an alarming rate, but I did land a few more pound plus fish for my efforts.

The last area I fished was one that has in the past been very good to me. I know there's a deep hole in the centre of the canal where the bottom drops away an extra two feet for some unknown reason. Straight away I knew I was going to hook something as I felt a juddering bang as the bait was hit as it sank on a tight line. Strangely it took quite a few more casts for me to hit a fish, but when I did finally hook one I knew it was proper old perch. 

It hit me as lifted the rod and like the others, it did not like it's dinner fighting back one bit. It really had me going with my little drop shot rod arching down into the water as it surged for freedom again and again. I felt every bang and shake of its head reverberate all the way back up the braided line and along the rod, and even though it wasn't the biggest perch I've ever caught I really didn't want to lose this one. Finally the hook held and in the quickly fading light I netted a lovely hump back Autumn perch. 

What this session has done for my confidence in drop shotting is unbelievable. I know that generally the method is orientated around lures, but for an stalwart worm angler, walking the worm really forms a very useful and reliable way to transition to the world of drop shotting. Now though I've opened up a whole new can of worms, if you will excuse the pun, as I am just thinking of all the venues and spots I wanted to fish this winter where I will be torn on whether to walk the worm or watch the float.

To drop shot or not to drop shot, that is the question.

The cynical element of my personality grows proportionately larger with age. By that I mean I grow ever more suspicious of those who pedal shiny things in relation to those who are attracted to and purchase shiny things. I may not be making myself totally clear here so some clarification or specifics may well be in order.

This autumn/winter/spring I fancy having me a proper big perch campaign once again, with the aim of a new PB as the ultimate target. As always, this will entail catching copious amounts of perch of all sizes in order to sort out some top of the pyramid type beasts. I have been mulling and planning this for a while and in doing so have concluded that refining my methods and adding new ones  might be in order. The refining I will get to as time goes by but it's the new methods, or method, I am alluding to now; as I already float fish and ledger for perch this really only leaves lure fishing as the "legal" and "sporting" method to add to my armory and to help attain my target.

Those of you who may read of my earlier exploits with lures will already be aware that I am a sucker for a bright shiny lure and although I have dabbled before with them I have never felt truly comfortable slinging plastic at my quarry, largely because I've always felt it to be a little disruptive to fish in conjunction with my more favored and reliable methods. But then the in vogue drop shot method caught my eye and I now have found myself thinking this more subtle form of fakery might be a little more conducive to how I fish. But, and there's always a but, when you're growing cynical with age, how efficient is this method? and are those sneaky chaps at the popular angling rags pulling out their fish eye lenses to snap piccies of little perch with the latest line of CAD designed fish imitations hanging from their mouths in order to placate their wage paying overlords, sorry I mean advertisers, or does this method really sort out some big billies?

So, recently I obtained a reasonably priced but fairly high quality rod which I matched up with a two thousand size reel filled with light braid, to try my hand at drop shotting. I have always thought there was a lot more to lure fishing than just chucking out a lure retrieving it and hoping something is stupid enough to hit it. Hence the last few weeks I have whenever possible been throwing various bits of rubber into any-where I can and success or not I really feel doing so has taught me a lot  more about lure fishing. But! And there's that but again, even though I can, hand on heart, say I really enjoy strolling around the world shooting lures here there and everywhere, I still remain unconvinced of the true efficiency of this method compared to bait fishing and that's what I am hoping to try a discover a bit more about over the next few months.

I had two opportunities for sessions this past weekend and with my previous statement in mind the thought of trying to catch some big perch drove me firstly to a commercial pool that contains some kippers and has been rather obliging to me in the past.

Now, having not visited this venue for a good long time I set out my stall as per normal using float and worm tactics in order to ascertain if the perch were in the mood and that the carp which I was worried were still a little to active might be slowing down. The bites came on line very quickly after I'd baited up and after landing a string of rudd, roach and skimmers I finally struck into a big and much more determined fish. Happily it turned out to be what I was after; having not visited this lake for the whole summer it was good to see a nice but lean two pounder in the bottom of my net which confirmed this was still going to be a viable venue for this campaign.

More feed went in straight after that fish which in turn attracted more silver fish. I actually tracked the approach of a carp as it came bumbling through the swim truffling up the bottom sending up puffs of silt. Being a bit cheeky I tried to avoid it by removing my hook bait from the water and hoping it might move on, but that was in vain. I watched sipping a cup of tea, as the carp single handily mopped up all of my expensive chopped worm. Then when I thought it was gone I baited up and the bubbling started all over again. I had no choice but to try and fish it out of the swim, which took all of about a minute to initiate and ten minutes to end on the light gear I was fishing.

With the nuisance carp relocated a few pegs away I topped up and resumed trying to pick perch from the shoals of hungry silvers determined to peck my hook baits to pieces. I did eventually hook into another hard fighting perch which after really having a go found its way into the net. Although certainly related to the first this one was in slightly better condition which was reflected by it having six ounces on the first. 

I was over the moon with the performance of this little pool. The fishing went just as I suspected it might, with the perch beginning to get on the feed and the carp slowing down. Given that in just over four hours I picked out a couple of nice fish I think it bodes well for more sessions on here as the temperatures drop and hopefully I can find that bigger fish I know lives in this pool.

The next day I took a trip to the canal that has in the past has been so good to me. Now in all honesty I feel this sacred bit of navi dug water way has been a bit off colour of late fishing wise. Whether it's the change in seasons or some seasonal glut available that is keeping the perch catches low I couldn't say. Something that is for certain is the bloom of small zander on this bit of canal is unreal with the savage little blighter's turning up a lot more regularly that the perch I am after.

Even knowing the seeming state of affairs I found myself walking the tow path in the half light and setting up on a quite mist shrouded bend in the canal. Turned out I was exactly right and the bites were hard to come by. Annoyingly when I did get a little spell of action I bumped off three perch on the trot. Two of them weren't much to write home about but one was infuriatingly a definite mid two.

After scratching out a couple more small ones I made the decision to up sticks and try a second spot that has in the past been quite productive. In this area I was at least I was getting bites even if they were from the wrong fish. A small shoal of tiny fingerling sized zander turned up attracted by the free offerings and would not leave my bait alone. I was catching them at a ratio of three bites to one zed until a bigger perch stormed in and seemingly sent them packing. After the perch though it went dead as door nail until I had a very fast bite. Finally I thought I was hooked up to a good sized perch and after knocking those few off I took things very carefully. Then the fish rolled on the top and my hopes of a big Sargent were dashed. It looked like one of the big hybrids that I've caught in this area before so I turned up the pressure to get the damn thing in the net.

It was as it lay in the net and I lifted it towards me that I realized how rash I'd been. The sun caught its fins and I knew this was no roach bream hybrid at all. Two inches thick, well over a foot long, with massive silvery white scales and orange red fins it looked to be a massive roach.

I don't mind admitting that I did get Jeff to have a look at the photos before I would fully let myself believe it was what I hoped it was, but after multiple checks counts and comparisons he confirmed that yes, it was defiantly a big roach. Beyond that happy bit of information the only pill in this catch was the weight. On my digital scales in the lightest of carrier bags the display flickered back and forth between 1.15 and 2lb refusing to settle on that most magic of numbers. At best all I can figure is that with my scales not showing drams this fish was within a maggot's weight of being a very special fish indeed.

Drops shotting!!!

You may of noticed that even though the title of this post is in direct relation to the afore mentioned method I have not written a single word about partaking of this endeavor in this blog, This is not because I didn't do it, because I did and I did it quite a lot as well. In fact on the commercial I actually spent well over two hours searching out plenty of free water that has been very productive in the past. And on the canal I spent most my time alternating between a float road and a drop shot rod. But on both venues the result was exactly the same! On waters with loads of big perch and one stuffed with zander I failed to raise a single hit! Now I know that this method works on at least one of the venues as I have caught and seen others catch both perch and zander. But the result of this little experiment already has me leaning to what I kind of thought, and that is that although fun and en vogue right now lure fishing, or more specifically drop shotting, seems to not be as efficient as good old fashioned bait fishing.

I won't however be removing my drop shot rod from my quiver right away. Like all methods I think it will have its day and in the right circumstance I might well out fish the float or ledger. But right now I suspect those days when it works might well be when fishing a gin clear venue when you can't buy a bite on bait for love nor money, and that's when I feel sure I can have some real fun whilst getting the most out of this method.