Double bluff, triple bluff, warzone.

It is seemingly always the case that when you go to a certain place to catch a specific fish, you inevitably end up catching every other species in the water other than the one you are actually trying to catch. A year or maybe two ago I went to a commercial lake in an attempt to catch a big perch, and on that occasion using only humble worms I landed well over a hundred pounds of plump carp, much to the annoyance of every one on the lake who trying to catch carp using some very specific baits. Not long after  I was discussing this topic with Jeff when he confirmed he too had encountered the similar situations and promptly proclaimed 'why do all these anglers go to these fishery and try and catch carp! they should go and try to catch perch then they'd catch carp!'. It was this sentiment that rang through my mind as I mulled over how to get my lined pulled during the weekend. 

I've been off the carp fishing for a few years now, but I feel a relapse is on the cards this year. So why not head off and try and get that first carp of the year under my belt by doing a spot of perch fishing on my mates woodland lake, and hell, if a big perch happened along, well I would just have to live with it wouldn't I.

My confidence that the double bluff would work was high, and why shouldn't it of been; every time I go perch fishing on a lake that contains carp they usually stick their nose in at some point. Only thing was that I did not predict the lake pulling a farcical triple bluff on me, leaving me agog.

You see I began fishing for perch to try and catch a carp, but couldn't seem to raise a bite from a carp whilst fishing for perch. So in the end I settled that a perch would do, so started trying to actually catch perch. But in trying to catch perch I instead caught chub. How chub got in the lake or equation I don't know, but it was chub that I caught. Five of them in fact and every one was long, cold and ever so thin.

The best was just over three pounds, but all were so long that if they were river fish two might have been five pounds right now.

I left not unhappy but slightly confused and pondering what I might need to do to catch a carp using this double or triple bluff technique. Maybe fishing for barbel or bream might catch me a carp! 

The 'chuble duff' wasn't to be my only session this weekend, as a previous date to fish a chalk stream had been called off and the day was still marked down for a spot of angling. So the day was duly used to go and check out a new fishery I fancied for something a little different.

Different it certainly was, which soon became apparent upon arrival at this seemingly war torn fishery....

Ascending the long rutted drive in a non four wheel drive was an experience alone but when we arrived at the parking the scene was really set.... on the edge of the car park amongst the rusting empty containers of various unidentified chemicals was a patch of burnt earth not that dissimilar to the shape of a human body. It was not that hard to imagine the blackened bones of a fallen resistance fighter filling that space. And we were only at the car park!!! 

As I scanned around the fishery it only seemed to get worse. A pair of mongrels bred of mongrels seemed to be picking at the scraps of god only knows what in the long grass to the left of the lake. What seemed like a tyre fire or barricade burnt constantly behind a sinister old building.

If an armoured Toyota Hilux loaded with militia men brandishing machine guns suddenly appeared on any of the random dirt tracks around, it would not of surprised me one bit. In fact I had my plan in place ready for such an occurrence, were I would simply offer Andy over as hostage or sexual slave, whichever they preferred, in exchange for my freedom and possibly a days fishing if they were prepared to throw that into the deal.

I love the smell of napalm when I'm fishing

The general feel of this fishery very nearly inspired me to call this post something along the line of 'The art of rebellion angling by John Conner'. Conversely the chap who came to meet us was a really nice bloke who could not of been more helpful really. He pointed us in the right direction, gave us the full low down on all recent captures and of what was in the lake.

Ready to have a few casts we made our way to a quiet corner of the lake and began unpacking our kit. About five minutes in a shot gun sounded from the next field; shots rang out intermittently throughout the rest of the day. Whoever was pulling the trigger was dug in hard and doing his very best to kill every living thing in that field.

Our nervous smiles had gone by dinner time and even with little action we were becoming quite amused by the herb fuelled antics of a couple of chaps over the lake. One seemed to chuck his feeder onto the island every time he cast out, the other, every time he hooked so much as tiny roach, let it run through his mates lines.

It must have been mid afternoon when the next strange occurrence unnerved the pair of us. From somewhere beyond the no mans land where the shot gun was still smoking, something let out a call neither of us had ever heard before in our lives. I mean I have heard just about every strange noise you can hear on a dark night fishing in the woods, but this sounded dreadful! It was a guttural sound that built up slowly into a shrieking gargle. It sounded neither human or animal for that matter. My best guess would be a human horse hybrid and not a cool mythical centaur way either, but the opposite way round,  like a humans body weighed down with a horses head, and this sounded like it did not deserve or want to be alive, locked awaya in whatever held it hopefully captive.

All day we waited, swapping between big pieces of meat and chunk of oily mackerel and herring hook baits, But not one sturgeon felt inclined to pick up our baits. One thing that did keep us going was the relatively regular liners we both seemed to be getting, which I have been lead to believe is a common occurrence whilst trying to catch these prehistoric beasts.

The water was very cold still and not much in the lake moved at all. In fact we did not see one single fish top all through the day. Then just as the sun sank towards the horizon the lake seemingly came alive and the wind dropped. Not long before this I took a shot in the dark by casting out a big worm and after only minutes of being in the water had garnered some interest, but not from what we sought. After loads of sharp and dropped runs a float rod I had with me was deployed and the culprits soon became evident. The lake as well as having a few sturgeon and load of carp was heavily populated with perch, which I would dare say are totally ignored by most anglers and were well up for an evening feeding session.

Even though we hung on till the very end as all anglers are prone too, that last bite never did come and we eventually left the war zone fishery. It might seem odd considering the atrocious conditions I have described but I really want to go back once it warms up a bit. I know I might not have painted it in the best light but something I can't quite put my finger on attracts me back. Though when I next go I might blend in a bit better if I were to bring half an ounce and an AK47 along with me for camouflage.

Early Halloween shockers and monsters.

I don't know about anyone else, but with me enjoying the pursuit of many different species I often find myself planning what and where quite far in advance. This year though one of my targets was a big perch, and luckily for me my plans unusually went to course, ending up with me landing a large fish very early on. So with that box ticked I was free to waste time as I wished. Even with a target achieved, the fact that I love perch fishing was always going to mean I would still carry on despite the likelihood of me beating that fish being quite slim. I do fish for my own pleasure, not just to achieve targets after all.

The one question that had come back into my head repeatedly was, should I return to the small commercial fishery which was the scene of that capture or not? I mulled it over more times than I care to remember and compared it to a multitude of other suitable venues. In the end I could not see any reason not to return, even though I thought to myself, and Jacky confirmed, that what ever I caught was always going to be smaller.

The normal population of anglers at commercial lakes on weekends inclined me to arrange a mid week session to avoid the masses and Jeff was more than happy to come along for a spot of autumnal worm wanging. We arrived earlyish and set up in a quite part of the lake in adjacent swims. 

Jeff pondering his rig after playing piggy in the middle between a snag and a hawthorn repeatedly 

The action was undoubtedly slow but here and there we got hints that perch were around. Jeff was first to land one which had been attracted by his free maggots. Though no bigger than his little finger, it still had a good way to go to reach the size we wished it was.

My 'big bait equals big fish' plan proved to also attract the tiny yearlings, but my baits being four times larger than the tiny perch present meant they could only harass my baits, causing my floats bob constantly. Soon though I got a real bite, when a single thump of the float preempted a slow submergence into the murky water. Strike met solid resistance that seemed about right for a good perch. The jagged dives seemed about right. Having convinced myself it was a decent perch only served to increase my shock when it surfaced and, quite loudly, I made my disbelief clear to a now approaching Jeff.

Sometimes the best descriptions are the first things out of your mouth and with this one I got it right first time with 'It's a crucian carp wearing a Halloween costume.' 

This thing had a bit of everything mixed into it's lineage; it had a crucian dorsal fin and mouth, a proper dose of goldfish and quite possibly a hint of shubunkin or koi just for good measure. I was almost embarrassed I did not see it coming and avoid capturing it, because as I let it go I could see it swimming off four feet under the water.

After my early Halloween caller, the small perch carried on doing what they always do until my float repeated the previous bite exactly. One thump then it slid off confidently.  How nothing was on the end seemed unfathomable to me. In the wind it took a few attempts to get the bait exactly back on the spot. Satisfied I sat back and only had to wait a short while for the next decent bite. For a third time the float didn't dally and this time I felt the solid resistance as a good fish held low down. I did have one of those oh bugger best let that have a spot less drag moments as the fish dived repeatedly.

"Please let this be a perch", rang through my head as the powerful fish still remained unseen. Then that moment all big perch anglers desire so much happened. A big spiny humped back broke the surface before shooting back below the surface. That was when my heart began to thump hard and the reality that I was attached to a fine big perch hit me. 

Those moment between realisation of what is on the end of your line and the safety are the net are both the worst and best times in fishing as far as I am concerned. The instant it went into the net I started to wobble. I must have alerted Jeff during the fight but I don't for a second remember doing so and as he approached I did babble out "it's a good one".

My second big perch in as many sessions on this pool went onto the scales to reveal a satisfying 3.6lb weight.

I cannot deny wondering if this was actually the same fish only at a much lower weight. So once back home I got pictures of both fish up on the computer to double check. Though undoubtedly related, the first was a much longer fish with a massive head, whereas this one was shorter with a much more pronounced humped back, and was all round a little less tatty. On the subject of comparisons, Andy and myself once caught two, two pound perch from a canal within moments of each other which were identical right down to the stripes. The only way to tell those two apart was by a small swirl in ones scale pattern and proved to me how similar shoal mates scan look.

The similarities in the two perch from this pool now leads me to believe there is probably one shoal of one year class, giant perch marauding around this water. In fact I will go as far as to say that it is quite likely that one both occasions when I have caught one it is probable that the whole shoal was in front of me and the hooking of one fish sent the rest of them of packing. I did hear form a regular angler of this fishery that he once caught nine perch around 3lb in one sitting, when they were shoaled up tight and hard on the feed. But that's it for me! I am convinced there is a decent number of big perch present and I know I will be back for sure all through this season of falling leaves right through to when the first cat ice forms to try and bag a multiple capture.