mighty buttheads.

Standing looking at a mass of tackle on Wednesday night I was blank on what I should pick out for a decisive strike on an unknown river after the mighty bullhead. After perusing several rods varying from 3lb to 1.75lb test curve I shook myself back to reality and searched out my 6lb test curve beach caster. Sorry I mean my huckleberry Finn signature bamboo cane which should be more than adequate for the job in hand.

The next issue re this unusual trip was what bait to take. After deciding to wait and see what they had at Lanes on the day I found myself confusing the poor chap who served me by asking for half a pint of mainly natural pinkies with a few large maggots, a few fluro pinkies, a pinch of red squats and the same of white squats. The look I got back was priceless to say the least but after a simpering smile he went off and returned with only could be described as a half pint mini mix.

With Jacky out for the night at the works quiz I had the car to myself for a spot of adventuring. It did turn out to be a real adventure trying to find my secret spot as I had never seen it before. I found out about this spot from Andy, who every time I said the word bullhead insisted I should go here instead of following someone else's lead. And yes Andy you were spot on mate.

Upon arriving three kids were throwing stones into the little river but a scowl from an rough looking angler had them back on there bikes and off up the lane. My first view of the babbling water did not really inspire me but after a little wading around I spotted a deep rocky hole near the bridge and low and behold it was full of minnows, but underneath in between the rocks I could see the odd little fish pop out.

It was on...

With only the top metre of the Huck s and three feet of 1lb line attached, a size 22 hook and a BB shot to get the bait down I crawled a tiny path worn bare by a million kids carrying a million nets. Only problem was that not one of those million kids were over three feet tall or any wider than breeze block, whereas I am both so it was a bit of a squeeze. It was just like being a kid again hiding in the bushes poking my rod out.(Mm that does not read as well as it sounded in my head as I typed it..!) After throwing in a few freebies, half the minnow population of  the western hemisphere shot out from under a bush next to me. But as they followed the wrigglers off down stream I was given a free shot at the fellas below and bagged one first cast.

Here's a tip for any budding bullhead hunters. I noticed that they seem to be very territorial sticking to their own little area and defending it venomously. So you have to locate one catch it then move your bait to his neighbours territory and so and so forth.

After previous unsuccessful attempts I really thought it could take all night. But after fifty minutes I had caught twelve bullheads for between 2-3oz. Including two whoppers which added up to over one ounce between them, making them definite specimens.

                                                         Goliath and Hercules

Turns out trying to take a picture of twelve writhing bull heads is al lot harder to do than taking a picture of any other fish I have ever caught. It took me nine attempts to get this one decent picture and it aint that good.

Any way with a challenge point I never expected to get in the bag I hopped back in the car rather smug and with a few hours till I needed to go and pick up Jacky I headed off to do some barbel watching on a bit of river I fished many moons ago to waste some time.

New to Napton.

I have lived in Warwickshire all my life and been fishing in the area since I was a child,but in all those years I have never even set eyes on, never mind fished, Napton reservoir. So when Keith invited me along to follow a hot challenge tip how could I say no. The tip we were following was a supposed population of the diminutive bullhead, which could turn out to be a key species in the ever more competitive challenge.

Upon arriving I took the time to wander round the lake to try and get an idea of it's geography whilst tapping any anglers up for catch info. Initially I set up on the windward bank as had Keith, but after a biteless hour my confidence dwindled and I opted to move to the causeway where an angler whom I'd spoken to had caught some good perch through the afternoon.

Shortly after I had moved Keith who had also begun doubting the previous area, moved in next door. My first bite wasn't long coming on my ultra light bullhead rig consisting of a 3 x no8 drennan pinkie pole float, 1lb hook link with a size 24 hook delicately tied to the end. With little to no resistance I was convinced my first bullhead would be soon in hand. Admittedly it was tiny but slightly the wrong species.

The current perch record is 5lb 15oz and at this size A rough estimate of 10 to the ounce would mean 960 of these would be needed to make the point. 

I will issue a Sub challenge to my fellow competitors that if any of you can catch a smaller perch than this, I will buy you a four pack of the finest ale payable upon the Xmas piss up.

The next dip of the float yielded something much larger and the perch point looked well on the cards. At 12oz ten of these cracking Sargent's would make the point.

The no7 pole elastic shot from the top kit after the next strike which came as surprise as I never knew bullheads fought so hard. After a testing fight and successful netting it Keith refused to acknowledge my claim that my bullhead rig had landed a universe record bullhead of 3lb.

Two more giant Napton bullheads managed to throw the hook on the next two casts and my regular feeding of small amount's of red maggots attracted ever more to my short line.

  

This was how my pole spent the majority of Thursday evening.

I could not believe the Tench action here, as myself and Keith landed one after another hard fighting tench.

By nine o'clock I'd landed six and lost another seven on my light rig. What I find hard to understand was the lack of other anglers after them on a warm summer evening. This place should have been packed with anglers with nothing but tincas on their mind.

The only thing that let this heavenly tench lake down was the mouth damage to every other tench, more than likely caused by ether braided hook links, or being dragged through the heavy weed by anglers not targeting them using heavy gear.

As the light went so did the tench from my swim, only to be replaced by some very nice perch indeed, and for the second time that session the perch point looked to be within my grasp as I landed fish of 4,6,8,14,8,12,8,2oz one after another. It was going far too well! Then a good perch of over a pound came off at the net and I could have kicked my self. The next better perch turned out to be a tiny tench, then the sky darkening in a rather biblical way was followed by a drop of rain here and there. Just after both Keith and I got our brolly's up the deluge started. A hour in the dark in heavy rain totally unable to see or get a bite and it was game over. With only four and a half pounds of perch another point was missed, although seven tench up to 3.5lb more than made up for this.