Rehabilitation sessions.

It always amazes me how quickly the countryside colours change in the warmer months. Through winter it always looks similar and even in differing light the fields and such are really just different shades of the same faded yellows and brown for months on end. In the summer though you can turn your back and look again to see the same vista looking totally anew.

In two weeks the land that surrounded the vole city stretch of the Oxford canal was nothing more than the new fresh green summer green. Now though as I stumbled along the bank, the waterway was flanked by meadows raging with so many butter cups that the horses walking among them looked like characters from a Doctor Zeus cartoon.

If that wasn't enough, the field opposite had turned from Warwickshire mud red with a hint of green into the dream scene from Ridley Scott's Gladiator. I half expected to see Russell Crowe walking wistfully amongst it fingling the wheat sheaves as he went.

Really I wanted to have returned before now, but nine days ago whilst putting out the bin I twisted in a odd way and something in my back went pop. Ever since then I have been delicately trying to rehabilitate myself from feeling like my top and bottom half of my body were not attached correctly to being able to hobble more than thirty feet in one go.

With only minimal recovery time off work and one very sedate session where I fished within eye shot of the bridge where my car was parked in a stance not that dissimilar to someone who had had an accident in their underpants, I now felt ready to return again. 

We all take walking for granted if you ask me and walking on an uneven tow-path with any element of a bad back basically wheedles out any weakness in your body, trust me. The previously mentioned session I barely got anywhere, and even with four more days of recovery I had only walked a very short way before my altered gate began to tell on my right hip.

Trying to forget any discomfort, I went about casting methodically along the reed lined bank trying to locate any predators lurking along the camouflaging reeds. I have to admit that I was under the impression that with the summers arrival the predatory fish would become vicious weapons of mass consumption and that they would be crawling up my line. The truth I am finding is not quite what I thought it would be! In fact although I do believe the fish are more aggressive, they firstly have more actual prey to become preoccupied with and secondly seem to be quite spread out on the canals. All of which adds up to summer lure fishing on the canal possibly being harder than winter fishing as far see at the moment. Maybe it will get easier as the time passes or maybe it's a case of tuning in to summer feeding fishes habits. 

Whatever the reason for the current state of the fishing I was in no doubt after an hour of casting that I wasn't doing something right, so quickly tied up a drop shot rig and began dobbing the ever reliable Wave tikki monkey along the near side margin and finally got a result by way of a chunky hard fighting perch. 

With the dusk approaching I left vole city and headed down to the spot where I had hobbled to a few days earlier. Although on that occasion I had fallen foul of the blank I did see at least three attacks on what looked like small roach that were taking something of the surface. I knew there were predators present and I hoped that arriving just before the witching hour would let me get the best of the area.

It took some time to come good, but in the furious hour after the sun sank beyond the horizon the small zander of which all the canals seem rife with came out to play. There seemed to be a shoal marauding around the area as every one of the four micro zander I landed and the one I lost were all within an inch of each other in length. The only lure that seemed to interest them was a three inch AGM black curly tail grub, which I suspect was showing up quite well against the clear sky as I bounced it across the bottom. Another hard fighting perch took a fancy to the grub just as I was about lift the lure to cast again and really gave me some stick on the light gear.

It was great to get out on the bank again and somewhere in the melee of action at dusk I actually for the first time in a while forgot about my niggling back. Now I am somewhere near full fitness I need to get back on it, as I have few venues I want to visit before the season opens again and my quickly dwindling time becomes even more stretched.

The things you see on the towpath.

What I thought I would see when I turned my head I could not possibly think. Only moments ago the quiet tranquility had been shattered by the single loudest splash I have heard on a canal. Part of me wanted to turn and witness a possible second jump from a wild giant golden carp. Another part of me didn't want to turn my head at all as the splash sounded big enough to be human and as I didn't fancy wading into the canal to try fish anyone out. Knowing my luck as well it was more likely the latter and given there were no walkers or boats around god only knows what had happened.

In the end I forced myself to look just in case I had to do my good Samaritan bit, but all I could see was waves emanating from the opposite bank a few hundred feet away, where it looked like someone had just chucked in a paving slab. Scanning the water I finally spotted a wake of something moving across the canal, what caused it though wasn't clear. Then after pinpointing the beginning of the wake I saw a brown head and instantly I concluded some stupid dog had dived in for some reason only known to stupid dogs. Now I could see me having to go down and try and help some soaking wet writhing dog up over the metal pilings that line this section of canal, as I have seen Jeff have to do every time Moll goes diving in after a coconut or something.

Walking closer my wet dog theory got blown out of the water as the wake turned towards me and I sighted what looked like female Muntjac deer powering along the canal. Any ideas of helping this thing out of the canal were shelved as I didn't fancy getting my teeth kicked in trying to be a Good Samaritan. 

 Instead I kept my eye on it as it swam down the canal till it came to a spot where the piling ended and the soaking doe could scramble up the muddy bank. Where the little deer came from was a bit of a mystery as this new bit of the Coventry canal I was fishing is right on the edge of an urban area. Given that the deer had jumped in on the side it had only meant it had actually come out of the housing estate. Mind you saying that I know the housing estate in question and given a choice between being stuck in there or jumping in the canal I know which I'd choose.

As I mentioned before it was a new or should I say newish bit of canal I was fishing. The last couple of weeks I've been checking out some new areas which as far as I can see are a bit under the radar. The section that for me will forever be known as the deer jump section is an odd one. It is quite a long walk away from any access point and for my part I have walked in from both directions and never quite got on either occasion to this bit. The fishing when I arrived was OK. Not knowing anything I was just trying to locate fish and after finding only two micro zander after fishing a large chunk of it I was thinking I wouldn't be coming back. That was until I fished under a couple of acorn trees hanging over my own bank. The first one I got absolutely turned over by a pike which grabbed an orange koypto in the edge and proceeded to shoot across the canal and bite through the leader. The shadows of the second tree were in feasted with small perch which were a sucker for a two inch curly tail grub being dobbed along the marginal shelf.

A few nights earlier I had done a short evening session on the Oxford on a new spot with some interesting results. With the temps high the surface was buzzing with insects and looking down the stretch I soon spotted lots of small fish lipping and topping. It wasn't hard to surmise the predators wouldn't be far away, which they weren't. A few small zander and perch is enough to give me confidence in the stretch and get me to return again.

Towards the end of the session I found the ever present mega snag with claimed lure leader and hook. I nearly went home at this point but I couldn't waste even ten minutes of light so I rigged up again just in case. Most of the water I had fished had been unusually deep but just as I came into a shallower bit something really smashed into the big wave curly tail I was retrieving. It turned out to be a really nice perch of well over a pound that was hunting in the half light.

Now I feel I have to eat my words, as only the other week I saying how bad I thought the fishing was on the Oxford and now here I am saying that actually there does seem to be a few nice fish about. My only defence is that I think the temperature has played a key role round these parts. Up until now it has seemed quite lifeless, but now I am seeing more and more activity as the temperature rises. Hopefully this might mean that the Oxford round here is more a summer and autumn target rather than a winter or spring one.

The highlight of my session was surprisingly not a fish or anything to do with a fish! On the day when I caught a huge zander a few months ago I got a momentary view of a rare little creature. I'd forgotten all about it in the fuss of the big zed, but what I saw on the Oxford reminded me of it.

Not long into the session I thought I saw something swimming across the canal. The first one I couldn't get a clear view of and the second wasn't much better. The third though seemed quite comfortable with me watching it. Turns out the more time you spend on the canals the more you see and on this occasion I spotted four different water voles busily working along several large reed beds along this new section.

Before anyone says it they were definitely water voles and not rats, as rats swim quicker through the water and have a pointy snout, whereas as the buoyant water vole has no need to swim quickly to prevent itself from sinking as it floats like a cork high in the water and has a blunt snout.

I will certainly be returning to both deer jump and vole city as both of them seem to have oodles of potential for pretty much all species and given enough time over different conditions I reckon one or both might well throw up nice fishy surprises.

Possibly a world first.

I have this feeling that I could settle down very well and be quite happy by the sea. I even suspect I could give in to the salt water and forget about freshwater fishing. Hence I was eager to get quickly back onto the canals rather than mooning around wishing I was still by the sea. Less than twenty four hours after being back as far away from the sea as you can get, I was walking the tow path of the Coventry wondering which of its many moods it might be in on this occasion.

In truth, with it being a bank holiday weekend once again the water was pretty much the same colour of Willy Wonkers chocolate river from the 1971 Gene Wilder film. I got my hopes up that it would fish well after an early hit from a small zander, but three hours later I was fish free and desperate. I could attribute the poor show to anything from water clarity to copious boat traffic, but I had this niggling thought that it was just one of those off days when the Coventry is as moody as a common garden teenager.

As the Coventry has a habit of being a bit like this I'd had the forethought to bring along a tub of lob worms I had been nursing for a few weeks. Some days fake bait or the way I am fishing fake bait just fails to do the job. Wiggling the worm on a drop shot rig though seems to be able to conjure up the goods when all else fails. I suspect that even though it maybe an unnatural movement the worm is doing, the natural sight of it combined with any scents released seems most of the time to get one over on even the wariest predators.

So there I found myself, working a drop shot rigged worm along the margins of the Coventry canal in a figure of eight motion as I covered the entire distance right back to the car at a snail's pace. I'd only walked ten or so feet when I got a pluck, probably from a small perch. Then after covering the water again I got hit again and this time I stuck into the fish sending it firing off like a bullet. It wasn't big and after an initial surge it turned round and came right in close. A flash of silver and it was a zander, until it gave up and came in where it quickly turned into a skimmer. This wouldn't have been the first skimmer I'd had on the drop shot, but it was the first silver bream I 'd had on it! Over sized eye, peachy fins and bigger scales than a skimmer. It was definitely a silver bream and quite possibly a world first on the drop shot rig to boot.

Less than half a day later after calling it on a dismal return I was on the same canal only in a different county. Turned out a night of no boats had increased the visibility from a few inches to a mere half a foot, but that was enough to get the zander on the move and hunting. Quite quickly I located a shoal of fish holding just inside the far margin shelf against some new reed shoots and the highly visible cannibal shad went about doing what it does best and luring them into attacking mode.

They weren't big, but as always what they lacked in size they made up in number. There were loads of vicious little zander holding all along the cover ready to attack. Although the sport I had on this occasion and many others is both enjoyable and rewarding, the small matter of average size has crept into my head. In short, where the hell are all the bigger fish hiding? Earlier in the year I had a few nice sized fish, but of late they don't seem to be showing at all. Whether it's just a natural bloom in the little ones or that the bigger fish aren't interested in going after the lure I am not sure. What I do know is every canal I seem to go to lately is riddled with zander from six ounces to two pounds.

I know it bodes really well for the future as the recruitment in the last few year classes of zander has been phenomenal from what I have seen. Barring any disasters the Midlands canal network could well see a golden age in zander fishing in five years time. For now though I think I either need to increase the size of lure I am fishing to try and deter some of the smaller or fish or possibly try to fish off the edge of such concentrations to try and locate any big old girls hunting the little ones. For now though I think looking to some old haunts that have in the past thrown up some great fish might be a suitable solution for me. If some of those fish have survived they could be very serious zander by now.

Light lure fishing adventures in brine.

I knew well  before I left that what I intended to do was a risk; who in their right mind heads towards the sea to fish with a light lure rod that weighed little more than four and a half ounces. Probably the same person that thought a suitable back rod would be a drop shot rod instead of a beach caster. As risky as it was, I had actually weighed up the pros and cons of what I was about to do and given that I wouldn't be frequenting the north sea beach heads, I felt I could get away with just a light lure set up for it was the ominously named but attractively boat lined Lake Loathing where I would be fishing.

Everything about the place seemed just right for me to spend any free time I could muster casting light lures around the plethora of tasty looking features that line its banks. Literally, it has every possible feature from skeletal hulls of ancient fishing trawlers right through to giant quays capable of berthing huge tugs. For me it was the nooks, crannies and hidey holes around the various walls that are accessible that drew me. 

I have read so much about light rock fishing (LRF) and the associated facets of light lure fishing, that I had almost convinced myself I could make this work in this massive body of brine, even though there are very few rocks to actually fish around. I have seen enough fish in this water to have sufficient confidence to commit to my theory. Not only was I convinced that there were fish present but I was also convinced I had sufficiently attractive micro lures in my lure box that I might well be able to pry out a few matching micro species using them. That's not to say I didn't top up with a few packs of the strangely attractive smelling Marukyu Isome from Agm products before I left.

So tooled up with a back pack full of lures and with nothing more than my now trusty Sonik Light tec rod in hand, I headed out to cement my place light lure fishing on the perilous cliffs faces of east Anglia. The water was clear, and perched atop a wall I could see the bottom with the aid of my Polaroids. I won't lie and say I wasn't a bit unsure on how to start, but close by and in sight seemed to make sense. After diligently working  a drop shot rigged section of Isome along at least fifty feet of wall with nothing more than a tiny little fish shooting out to look a my lure, I concluded to start casting tight to some of the features a little further out to try and get a pull. First retrieve and I was sure as shit is brown, something grabbed my lure. Over keen I cast again to the same spot and got the same reaction but no hook up. I slowed my retrieve next to see if it was a bit of time the culprit needed, but still no proper hit. It took me a few more casts before I spotted it following the lure before tailing off back to the cover. Next cast I drew them up in the water and got a good view of ten or more darting little fish, rather enamoured by the rhythmic movement of the Isome but were unable to get it in their mouth. It must have taken twenty more casts with an ever decreasing sized pieces of lure before I finally hooked one out.

I wasn't exactly sure of what it was at first but after examining the delicate protruding mouth I concluded it had to be a smelt. They seemed to be lingering around any available cover, probably for their own safety in truth. But something I learnt about salt water species a long time ago is that they are all pretty much predators. Straight away I began focusing on working small sections of lure tight under or around any cover I could access and the results were intriguing. After only moments of the lead making bottom a few swift jerks of the rod would draw in a shoal of smelts and then the aggressive little munchers would dart in flashing and nipping at the lure.

My hooking rate was very poor to start with, but after rummaging around in my back pack I found a spool of 4lb fluorocarbon and a packet of size 14 Drennan paste hooks. With my new set up I was banging out smelt like a Trent trotter bagged silvers back in the day. By the time I had caught enough savage little smelts to start a Spanish restaurant I realized that not only was the entirety of this lake paved with smelt, but also that it was going to be impossible to get through them to any other fish.

Next time out I had thought hard about the smelts and concluded to scale up rigs so as to hopefully discriminate against them. Interestingly I actually kept the rig to compare with my new scaled up drop shot rig. Everything went up in size so as to keep the rig balanced and even though I have shown the weights right under the hooks, both rigs were actually fished at between six and ten inches off the bottom.

Next I began targeting slightly more open water. In truth I was looking for any species other than smelt, although I had no idea what might be lurking around. Eventually I got free of the silver savages, but now I was getting literally no bites at all. That was until I cast alongside a fenced off old jetty. Half way through a slow retrieve of a small Hart 2 ball worm I thought I hooked a snag. That was until it powered off to the left! Whatever I had hooked was powerful and on my light lure outfit it felt massive. After really giving me a run around proving how much fun catching sea fish can be on light gear, my first ever drop shot caught flounder came fighting all the way to the surface. 

After a modicum of success I was galvanised to travel up and fish a nice looking area of harbor alongside the local ASDA store. I was really confident that being as close to the sea as I was that the pilings would be racked out with all the common culprits like pouting and whiting. Even hitting it perfectly on hide tide and the slack water I got little more interest from the fish than one slight shuddering hit. On land though my presence had been noted by a different sort of predator. This time it was the plump day glow coated security type who informed me that I was on private property and politely informed me to sling my hook.

Back crawling into every spot I could to cast a lure I did my best to avoid the smelts. Every now and again it was good to get one just to boost my confidence, but the reality is that they are terminally stupid and go belly up very easily when caught, and feeding the seagulls on my catch is not something I find enjoyable.

Eventually whilst fishing a harbor within a harbor I hooked a second better sized flounder whilst casting a bigger rig around and juddering a full Isome over a muddy bank just beyond a bed of bladder wrack, using my Spro drop shot rod.

These flatties fight so hard on this light gear that I can honestly say that even though I have had loads of them in the past fishing from the beach on heavy gear I have never truly appreciated how hard fighting a species they are. The way they hit the lure is amazing; if they see it and want it then there is no two ways about it, it's going in that strange sideways on mouth. The only disappointing thing I can say it that I couldn't find more of them during my time casting into the brine.

It didn't end there though! On my final outing to Lake Loathing I arrived at high tide expecting to see clear water only to find the lake in one area very coloured up. In the back of my mind I had been thinking, why I had not seen any bigger predators mooching around after these smelts. The moment I saw the coloured water I suspected something was afoot. Tentatively working a rig around I scanned the water for any signs of movement. When I looked down towards my rig I watched open mouthed as a bass of two or three pounds causally cruised by. It took only the slightest bit of notice of my worm before melting away into the coloured water. In a panic and flapping I searched my back pack for anything that looked like a smelt and luckily came up with a three inch long shallow diving plug which was soon hanging from my line as I scanned the water for fish.

Eventually they showed twice as far out as I could cast in a shallow bay chasing smelts out of the water. In absolute agony I watched as the moved round the water consistently out of range until they just stopped surfacing; I had a feeling I knew where they might pop out again and I immediately headed to a spot where I might be able to steal a cast at them. I was ten feet above the water scanning the area where I thought they might come into the second bay, but I couldn't see a thing. I was about to go back to the first spot when I looked down and a shoal of sprats moved like a cloud beneath my feet and three good sized bass charged into the cloud. The whole scene moved to my right, I cast in front of them and reeled the small silver plug wobbling under the water towards them. The bass never gave the lure a second look as it passed by them. The smelts soon disappeared and so did the bass. As for me I worked the whole area ragged with that plug hoping that one of those bass might have gone after it but it was to no avail. That was it, my briney light lure adventure was over in a crescendo of failure. I had seen the ultimate UK sport fish hunting and had a chance to try and catch one but it turned out on this occasion there was no substitute for the real thing.

As for whether I would take my light lure gear to the coast again that is a no brainer. A couple of flounder a bucket load of smelt sand a single shot after some bass is a successful first lure fishing trip to the sea as far as I am concerned, and you never know what species will be around later in the year.

Zander heaven and zander hell.

The Oxford canal has perplexed me for a very long time now. The reason being is its general lack of ability to live up to its potential by way of predator sport; when compared with the other local canals which I also fish it comes dead last behind the overrated Ashby, the moody Coventry and the overachieving Grand Union.

I have been unable to come up with a viable theory, never mind reason why it fishes so badly. As canals go it has all the right features in all the right places for it to have some good predator sport somewhere along the tow path. How somewhere that looks so good can fish so badly is beyond me and worst of all is it's actually the most convenient canal geographically for me.

I once again decided to give the Oxford another look. Even though that I suspected it would be as bad as ever I still committed to actually fish not just once, but three times in succession. Over the three visits I must have walked miles and miles of prime looking canal whilst diligently fishing all kinds of areas. Sadly, as per normal, it was normal service and after some twenty five hours of searching all I had to show for my efforts was an unconnected hit, a scrawny zander which got off at the net and three crayfish on the deads.

Really I don't want to leave it at this, but right now the only thing I can possibly think to do is maybe return in the summer or the autumn to see if possibly it's a seasonal canal. Aside from that I needed to recharge my confidence so headed back to the Coventry for my latest session, to a section I discovered a while ago that seems to be very reliable early in the morning when the sediment has had a night to settle and the water is a bit clearer.

In this clearer water the lure that always seems to work for me is the savage gear clown cannibal shad. It shows up really well in visibility of around two feet and it has so much movement in the tail that I can feel the lure vibrating all the way up the braid and through the rod. Once again it worked a treat and three casts in a small zander could not resist grabbing it.

I was over the moon to get into the fish so quickly, as not only was I out to build my confidence back up, but also to put my new rod to the test. Since beginning to do a lot of lure fishing I have quickly figured out what I want from a rod. Finding that rod has been a real test of patience though. I must have actually held in my hands some thirty different rods from just about every manufacturer making them. What I was actually looking for was a lightweight rod that would yield under pressure but still have a relatively fast action. The reason I was after this holy grail of a rod was mainly to do with zander. Perch and pike I have concluded just smash lures as it's generally a case that they either want them or not. Zander though are buggers for chasing, nipping and hitting in various different ways. It was because I felt that I wasn't converting enough hits from zander into fish landed that I felt I needed a rod that would not only transfer any information of the hit back to me, but could also drive home the hook on these renowned hard-to-hook fish.

Eventually after travelling quite a lot and waggling a lot of rods and disregarding some very highly commended rods, Dave from http://www.specimenfishing-uk.com/ contacted me to inform me he had something I might be interested in. The next day I went over and after only a moment holding the Sonik Light tec 1-8gram spinning rod I was sold. Teamed up with a 1000 size reel it felt perfect and it was just unfortunate that my first few outings with it were on an underperforming venue. Now though I was on the right canal, the zeds were on the hunt and it was the perfect place to see what this rod could do. 

As I said before the fish were on the hunt in a big way, and straight from the off the cannibal shad was working. Every five casts I seemed to get some interest and after an hour I had eight fish, although there seemed only to be small schoolies of between a few ounces to two and half pounds around. Even though they were small, most were in great condition and very aggressive. 

With me catching so many fish it was only a matter of time before something odd turned up. After the bites dried up in one spot I had just moved up the canal to fish the next. My lure hadn't even hit bottom before something grabbed it and sent a sharp tug back up the line. I struck and the fish shot off. It was a normal spirited zander-like fight until the fish rolled and it almost looked black for a moment. At first I wondered if it was something different but then it surfaced again and I saw it was definitely a zander, though it was a bit weird looking. On the bank it soon became apparent that the reason it looked strange was because it had a blue hue all along its underside. Around the mouth it was just a hint of blue but along the body it darkened until right at the tail it was almost navy blue. Honestly I have never seen a zander like it before! I have seen them from that pale white colour they get in muddy water right through dark green, but never blue. 

It's not like it was to do with the area as not long after I caught this one which was green and pale white, and that came on literally the same spot.

You can see it looked to have almost normal colouring on the top, but that underside and fins were definitely blue. Although it's not easy to see, the fins were really accentuated by the blue tint and white edges.

Maybe the strange colouration of this fish was something to do with its environment, but surely I would have seen the same thing in other fish. I am thinking that it's more likely either just a genetic anomaly or maybe an infection. I have seen tench with a red speckling that's caused by a bacterial infection. Either way it wasn't making any difference to the fish as it was in good condition, very aggressive a fought like stink.

The sport continued right through the morning and by the time I seemed to have exhausted the area I was fishing I had landed eighteen small zander and lost three at the net, add to that the numerous hits and the two small perch that got in on the action and all in all I had a great morning. I don't really think there is any need to babble on about the new rod. Literally it felt comfortable using it, I wasn't tired after casting it for six hours none stop and the number of zander I caught alone is testament to how good it is. In fact I can't wait to take out after big perch and small pike in the future as I know it will be just as good playing them as it was with the zander.

BOGOF

'You buy one, you get one free!  I say you buy one, you get one free' 

Those were the words that kept ringing through my head again and again as I stood on the tow path the other day. And why shouldn't they have been stuck on some torturous loop in my mind, because after all this was a bank holiday weekend, it wasn't raining and the boat wankers were out in force. At some points 'buy one, get one free' was an understatement to say the least. Seven boats in convoy was the record for the day. Honestly that lot coming down the cut was like an armada passing by, all churning up the bottom and blankly wishing good morning whilst inanely asking if I'd caught my supper. If it wasn't for the fact that I was actually having fun catching a few perch and some rather obliging strip zander I feel sure I would have been jumping up and down on the bank shaking my fist and ranting in ancient long forgotten language that they should keep their witty japes regarding my tea to themselves, before I am tempted to shove their barge pole in their rear hatch.

I had always known it was going to get a bit manic with boat traffic and to try and get some done before they started I had arrived just after first light. Weirdly the action prior to the boats beginning to rumble by had been in my opinion, a bit sporadic. All I had managed was a single chunky perch which I had winkled out by dancing a tikki monkey along the nearside shelf on a drop shot rig. 

The drop shot rig was partly why I was fishing in this area. You see I had a few new lures I wanted to try out and they all seemed more suited to the drop shot rather than a jigging rig. Given the past few weeks had been a little zander filled and that I have much more success with perch on the drop shot, I had come to a area stuffed full of the critters.

Convinced the margins were paved with the stripy Herbert's I stuck it out on the drop shot, working around any structure I could find. Although I wasn't finding them in numbers, when I did spark any into interest they were absolutely smashing into my lures.

The oddest part of the session came after a couple of boats really stirred up the canal. I have always thought that it actually takes a boat going through to stir the resident fish into moving, and off the back of that I have developed a theory that sometimes when the boats churn up the bottom, zander for one, actually go into the clouds of silt looking for anything that has been disturbed out of the mud, like worms, leeches and small fish. It proved exactly the case when the boats have moved on and I shot my rig right to the far side of the canal before pulling it back into the murk. Four or five small strip zander and a single nice perch fell for a black grub on a slow retrieve through the clouds of silt.

The boats I knew would all too soon begin to wear on my patience, and it was then that I sought a bit of respite and headed for the relative quiet of a small row of moored boats. Working the rig rhythmically as close to their hull as I could, I tempted one final nice perch that I can only say has real potential in the future. Although not much over a pound in weight I don't think I have ever seen a little fish that looked so much like a big fish before and that for me was the perfect point in which to leave the canal to the boaters.

Goldilocks and the three braids.

Up until about seven months ago all my knowledge of braid was related to how it was used in hook links and I can't really claim to be any kind of expert on that either. Since then though I have pretty much used it exclusively as a main line and in doing so I have really developed an idea of what I want from a braid whilst learning that not all braid is equal.

So far I used a few types of braid and in doing so have concluded that although they all essentially do the same thing, they are not all the same in reality. I began with an older version power pro which unlike the new generation of the same stuff was very noisy when reeled across the rod rings. Next came Jig silk from Fox which I love to use on my finesse outfit but is rather prone to wind knots, and wind knots aren't cheap where braid is concerned. Then I came across a good deal on Savage Gear Finezze HD4 braid on-line. My God, the low diameter of this was unbelievable. Apart from the colour which I bought it in that isn't great, only one thing let it down for me and that's the way it beds into itself when you have to pull out a snag or out of a snag.

I have also spent quite a lot of time examining various other braids to try and find one that's just right and I have not been doing too well with that in truth. That was until I by pure chance found a spool of HTO Rockfish ultra braid in a local tackle shop, Specimen Tackle UK, for the paltry price of £10. I'd heard a lot about how good their LRF rods are and given the great value of this line I thought it would be worth a punt.

With two sessions on the cards on consecutive crappy days I decided it might be interesting to actually fish one with what I was currently using and then in between sessions re-spool with the new stuff to see how it compared on the second session.

So firstly I hit the tow path with the Savage Gear Finezze HD4 and given how windy it was I knew this was going to be a real test. It wasn't easy trying to present a lure well with the wind tugging the line around, but I did manage to find a few fish. Firstly, a small zander grabbed one of my favourite Pumpkin paddler grubs right as I bounced it over the nearside marginal shelf.

That was followed by a second smaller zedlet which I tried to hand out and ended up losing. A lot of canal, a few snags and change to an orange kopyto later, I struck into another a really nice thick set zander tight to a boats hull, which went crazy and thrashed round all over the canal before going in the net.

Three hours on the cut and three fish was actually very good going considering how bad the wind was. The braid performed well, but as I knew would be the case, this line is impossible to see on even the shortest cast in the day's dull conditions and every time I put any pressure onto the line to pull from a snag it would take several casts to un-bed the line. This bedding-in issue I am sure is down to the low diameter and profile of the line, both of which combine to let the tightening coils pull in between any below them that aren't under as much tension.

So at home a few hours later I carefully wound the Savage Gear Finezze HD4 onto a spare spool and re-spooled with the HTO Rockfish ultra braid. Straight away I could see it was thicker as the diameter implied on the packaging, but I could also see the lines profile seemed to flatten on the spool which made it lay better on top of itself.

The fact that this new line is a very bright yellow obviously made it easy to see as I cast a clown cannibal shad into the far bank cover. The jig head never got the lure to the bottom before a micro jack hit and I actually saw the line tighten before I felt the fish, which was great.

It was purely down to fairness that I kind of wanted to find a snag, and as I was on a canal it didn't take long before I was towing a large branch across the canal. The braid was tough as they all seem to be, but instead of bedding into itself it seemed to just lay on top as I hoped it might. Then it only took a single cast to check the line would spill off the spool well on the cast before I was off and fishing again.

The canal in this particular area seems to clear really well overnight and that combined with the bright white cannibal shad, was the perfect combination when I found a shoal of small zander loitering in the trench. By covering the same ten square feet of canal from different angles I kept the eager little hunters coming after the lure. On most casts they were chasing the shad and nipping at it, judging from the pulls on the bright yellow braid. Then when one would make a committed grab a quick strike would send pressure down the new braid and catch the culprit in the lip most times. 

It wasn't until the rain started and a trio of rude speeding boaters passed that the sport stalled. Even by changing lures and retrieve I couldn't get any more fish to attack in the now turbid water.

As for the braid I have to say well done to HTO with the Rockfish ultra braid. It performs just as well as all the other braids I have used, but has lays on the spool well, doesn't bed in under pressure and the high visibility not only helps to see what your lure is doing but makes watching hits pure joy. On top of that I never encountered a single wind knot even with the wind in my face all day; all that for only ten quid is a bargain in my books.

I must say that as braid lasts forever I never throw it away. The original power pro I bought I use on a heavy lure outfit for bigger plugs. The Fox Jig silk for all the trouble it gives me remains my favourite braid for super light lure fishing and the Savage Gear Finezze HD4 is being saved for any possible trips to deep reservoirs that might come along in the future, where those super fine braids are key.