Gel caught zander.

Ages ago whilst browsing the AGM products website I came across the lure flavouring page and on what might be considered a whim, made a purchase. Since then I've done quite a lot of reading on flavouring lures and discovered that in both the US and mainland Europe their use is really quite common . Truth be told at first I was a little less than convinced, but once I began looking into it the whole theory kind of makes sense.

Too often we think from the point of view of a bait which generally lays on or off the bottom and relies on the scent drawing fish to it to consume it. Instead though think of your bait actually moving around wafting and dispersing the scent as it does, convincing possibly wary predators that your fake fish has some organic element which it should eat. I suppose it's like casting one of those fake dog toy burgers outside the local pub at closing time. It might not look exactly right, but as long as it smells a bit like food chances are you'll be slipping your landing net under one hundred and eighty four pounds of beer soaked man quite quickly.

For me being a disciple of worm, it was always going to be something wormy and as most of these products come from the US there was a good chance it would therefore be nightcrawler related and that's how I ended up with this stuff.

Up until now I've not really given it that much of a concerted run out, but with the canals developing their rich summer colours, that are not dissimilar to a flooded winter rivers hue, I thought this might help a little to draw some interest. So on my next evening foray down on a bit of canal I slathered my lure in Mike's nightcrawler gel like my dad used Brut back in the day, and bugger me if it seemed to help!

 I went to an area where I knew a large amount of prey fish were held up on a large open run of canal. By my reckoning the little bit of cover at the edge of the open run could be where any predators might be holding up and at the very first tree hanging over metal lined bank I got a hit first cast.

I didn't hook that first fish, but the instant reaction had me thinking maybe I'd been missing a trick with this here gel scent I'd had in my bag and rarely used. So I added more gel scent and cast again close to the tree. You can imagine how I felt when the second cast produced a small zander...

Fanning the area soon found another much smaller fish very quickly; I was beginning to think I might be onto something here.

As if by way of fair experimentation I changed lure from my faithful black curly tail to a chartreuse paddler grub, which I also liberally coated in Magic mikes worm goo. Just as I retrieved that lure in the nearside margin I felt a distinct tap. Being right under the rod tip I carried on vertically jigging the lure and something tore into it violently. After a brief but determined fight I slipped the net under a small but quite mature looking zander.

Now I was really convinced this sticky stinky gel was helping me along, so pushed off down the canal searching for more fish, but the truth of the matter is that I couldn't find any more zander willing to have a go. The perch on the other hand were quite into me dobbing a small pumpkin paddler grub along the margin and several of them hit the lure as it passed in front of them. Just as I approached an area I fancied might hold more zander I got a really hard hit from something that really didn't like the searing sting of my jig. It battered all around the canal right up until it rolled over exposing a big stripy flank, and threw the jig.
I left not long after losing what I was sure that was a proper big perch, so I marked the area in my mind ready to come back to try and search it out.

Three nights later I went back to exact same spot that I'd memorized as being next to a small sapling growing out of the metal piling lining the canal. I coated the lure in Mike's gel scent, dropped the lure in the water a little way off the little tree and worked it along the margin until BANG. Same place as before a fish hit the lure and began powering round the canal. This time it never got away, but also it seemed to have shrunk by at least a half once I'd landed it.

Whether or not it was the same fish I will never know, but what I can say was that it struck in the same square foot as the previous attacker and that does make it certainly look like the lost fish or at least its buddy. I do know that every time I pass this little spot I will certainly be dropping a lure in there just to see if anyone is home.

As for the gel flavouring I am not exactly convinced that it's totally responsible for any of the above captures as their capture might well of occurred if I had gone to that area and not used it. What I can say is that the theory of scented lures makes a lot of sense to me after seeing how effective wiggling worms has been, and I think that methods success is partly down to the juices which leak from the worm. So really the only conclusion I can come to is one based on how much it costs. It costs £3.99 for the bottle I bought and even given that I have probably overused it a bit on the last few sessions, I have hardly used any. Therefore for the tiny cost involved in maybe adding a bit of extra attraction to your lure you might as well give it a go.

Fun in the sun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zanderfest 53.

What is there to say that hasn't already been said or should that be what is there you can write that hasn't been written.  It's always going to be the case when you get get a gathering of angling bloggers all fishing together in one place, on one day, for one species, in honour of one chaps entrance into this world that you get several different perspectives on the day. Personally, I for one love to read all these different aspects of a session as it gives different perspectives. It's like eating a great meal repeatedly over and over again and discovering something new each time.

I think although we were gathered for one main reason everyone had their individual aspirations for the day. For some of the lads who had travelled quite far it was a chance to fish for a species which is not normally that accessible to them. For others they just wanted to get into the zeds on a new bit of cut. For me though being both native to the area and regularly fishing it for the species in question, it was more of a chance to meet up with people whose blogs I follow avidly and have a good old chin wag whilst maybe catching a zander or two. It was a bit of a trip up memory lane as well for me as I not only grew up fishing just down the canal a bit, but also reacquainted myself with rod and line again here after a five year break from fishing when snogging girls was more appealing than sitting on a dog turd riddled tow path. 

After arriving a little early I took the opportunity to have a wander down to a place where me and my old pal pinky used to get sun burnt, blank and occasionally even catch a few fish. It was on my way back that I came across Mick also looking wistfully at the water wanting to get going. Soon enough the muster began as friends old and new arrived. As I have experienced before I got a bit of a surprise when meeting some of the people whose blogs I've been following. Brian from Pike Blog was at least two feet taller than I ever thought he was and James from James' Angling Adventures seemed somewhat scaled down in real life. This isn't the first time I have encountered this strange blog-related size distortion. I thought Lee Fletcher from This Angling Life was a giant until we first met and I realized has most certainly was not the giant I expected (sorry Lee). Now this angling blog size distortion phenomenon has me reassessing how big everyone whose blog I read is and thinking truly how big is the Sweet Corn Kid? Or is Dave Burr really the Viking I expect him to be?

We did eventually form up and trickle out after the handshakes and hellos were done knowing there would be time for chatting on the bank and in the pub once cold and dark had forced a retreat. We filtered out in all directions rods in hand and the hope of submerging floats in our hearts. Actually although I did have a back up dead bait rod with me I thought this was a perfect opportunity to see how my method of the moment, walking the worm on a drop shot rig, stood up against an array of dead baits being fished all over the area.

I ended up heading down the Coventry with Keith as generally for some odd reason I don't really get on with the Oxford canal, that and I had been fishing on the Coventry cut the last few weeks and I knew that the clarity was good for what I wanted to do. My first swim was a narrowing point by a huge reed bed and after depositing a few broken worms onto a spot and jiggling the worm around over them for half an hour I struck into a small zander of maybe half a pound. Another half an hour later and a missed run on the float fished dead bait and I was on the move back towards Keith. In my next spot I was rewarded with a small perch then after constantly working the area I got the strange urge to go back my first spot and I was glad I did.

First drop in and I barely had chance to lift the rod a couple of times before I hooked a decent fish which powered angrily around under the bent rod. I don't know whether it was the good visibility in the water or my position over the fish but I got a real treat by way of a full view of a very angry zander fighting me under the water. Really and truthfully the fish looked so cool flaring its gills, shaking its head and zig zagging around that I know that memory will stay with me forever. After a bit of a fuss where I realized my net was at the opposite end of a moored boat and assistance was needed, the fish eventually found itself in the folds of the net where it was no less angry than it was in the water.

  

Not long after that I moved again up close to Joe Chatterton of Joe Chatterton's Angling Diary and after seeking permission to linger on the edge of his swim fishing the margin I dug in until dusk. My dead bait did absolutely nothing, but thank god I persisted in constantly walking the worm round on a area I kept topped up with chopped up worms. In the few hours that I stood chatting to Joe I landed another three small zander, bumped off a couple more and lost what both me and James thought was a big perch.

Knowing the temperature was always going to fall dramatically combined with the knowledge of a open fire in the Greyhound pub always meant there was going to be a rather strong force pulling us back down the tow path. For my part the novelty of having a pint of Bass in one hand and a drop shot rod in the other only lasted as long as the pint of beer did and all too soon myself, Keith and Joe were slinging tackle in cars and heading in from the dark.

Everyone else soon arrived in spits and spats lured back to the warmth of the pub and cold beer. It was high spirits all round as the beer flowed and laughter emanated from our boisterous bar blocking group. It was really great seeing friends I haven't seen in a while and meeting some new ones and happily we landed a few zander between us which after all was at least half the point of the gathering. As for the other I wasn't sure if I actually congratulated Jeff on his what I think was his fifty-third birthday, so if not the perfect way to end this is by saying congratulations, Happy Birthday Jeff and I can't wait for zanderfest 54 next year..

Is this just maddness.

It's said that necessity is the mother of invention. Well if that is so the father of what I am about to tell you about may well be madness. You see like everyone does now and again, I've recently found myself in that position where other things in life become dominate forces in what consumes my time and thus I was struggling to get out fishing as much as I would like to. Add to this the recent, and let me say archaic, practice of day light saving taking place the weekend just passed and I am feeling rather hampered. Anyway back to the subject I've recently been partaking of more than my normal amount of lure fishing. I find it very convenient in a way that I can just have a light lure fishing set ready to go at all times and with the lack of need of perishable bait required it fits in quite well with my current predicament.

So the other day I was perusing the soft lure selection in the local tackle emporium when I spied a box of lovely new Fox zander shads. The moment I set eyes on them the rusty old cogs in my head ground squeaking into action, my eyes went blank and a cockamamie idea began to fruit. The shads and some 10 gram jig heads were purchased ready to experiment one night in the week.

The night before going out I sat down with a few choice tools to modify what I am sure Fox consider was an already perfect design. Put crudely I cut the lure a new ass hole and digestive tract! In civilized terms, after carefully making a small incision where on most fish there would be a vent I gently forced a narrow and rounded shaft of wood into the body of the shad trying not to pierce it. The result I must say came out perfectly leaving a visible cavity that would tightly hold onto the glow stick I intended to shove in there.

With only a small amount of lubrication to help it along, the glow stick went in with minimal fuss and once fully inserted only the slight bulge in the belly of the shad indicated it was even present in the light!

A crack and a few vigorous shakes and it became a whole new beast in the dark!

So the next night I found myself getting into the car and driving round to the lake where the only light at that time of night was the glow of the distant city. I knew it wasn't the perfect venue to test out my folly but it was convenient and I knew there was supposedly a large amount of prey fish in an area of weed free water that I knew relatively well.

It's one thing going and setting up camp by a sheet of water with a couple of rods on indicators, but it's totally different and strange feeling to be wandering round along the bank in the pitch black in autumn with little unseen creatures rustling round in the leaf litter. The owls were already at it hooting to one another across the lake and every time I made a noise in a new swim, hidden water birds would bolt from their roosts in the reeds beside it. Other than that it was an enjoyable experience all in all. From the first cast I was smitten with the sight of this green projectile arching out from the bank over the lake like tracer fire. Just watching the light show was amusing enough to me, but add to that the excitement that I really thought I stood a small chance of a predator taking a swipe at it and I was practically twitching with excitement.

How many casts I made in the next three hours I couldn't say. What I could say was that it was a miracle that somehow I never once got that lure snagged on anything, stuck it in a tree or even tangled it on the cast. Sadly though I didn't raise any attention with my gaudy offering. Though I am sure I did get at least one follow from something. It happened just around that point when food and beer were beginning to appeal more than lure fishing in the dark. I'd punted the lure out into the void and been slowly bouncing back just off the bottom. Most of the lake was hidden in the black of the shadow of the woods opposite me, apart from the last quarter of the lakes surface which was lighter shade of black reflecting only the night sky. It was in that lighter water that I spotted a bow wave cutting across the surface. I did think maybe I'd dragged in some weed on the main line until it did a forty-five degree turn off as the lure came closer to the edge. I repeated that cast so many more times in the vain hope that the fish might have still been in the area but no it came to nothing. Now after my initial little experiment I find myself thinking has this glow in the dark lure fishing got any mileage or is it madness to think anything would attack something so obvious in the pitch black and am I just wasting my time?