God save the bream.

The first of our two bank holiday bonanza weekends I gave up to pull a real changing room job on our kitchen which has been top of my big job list since we moved into a our current home. Four days of initial  trashing and ripping followed by tender hammering and sawing and Jacky was over the moon with our sparkling new modern kitchen, which left me free the following weekend to get some fishing in.

My first trip was something I have had brewing away for a while: eels! I am sure they are present in the canal stretch we have been targeting for perch this year, so Thursday evening after work I charged home to grab my gear and headed down there to fish until morning.

Andy joined me in search of bream, and after a while another couple of lads he knows turned up out of the blue with an idea to target the local bream population themselves. This was something I wanted to keep away from so I set up a little down the canal within sight of them.

Determined to avoid both perch and bream I was cautious to try and keep off  known feeding areas of both species. I cast out one rod baited with bunch of lob worms and second baited with a small dead roach.

Intermittently through the evening my worm rod received unwelcome attentions as a shoal of bream passed near the area and finally the bobbin slowly and erratically rose as a decent but spawning battered bream of 4.4lb made off with the worms.

As the night  wore on I did get some very interesting touches here and there and around 10.30pm I got what I am sure was my only run from an eel. With no warning at all the indicator on my roach line sounded with a slow and constant run which went on for a good while as I waited to confirm a run and not a liner. Sadly my strike pulled the bait clean out of the mouth of the culprit. After this the temp dropped badly along with my confidence and I could stand it no longer it was time for home.

Friday I could have gone fishing but I felt it important to actually watch the royal wedding as it ain't that often our future king gets married. So rather than head off into the country side I spent the morning like the few billion people around the world sitting on the sofa watching TV. 

My next session was to investigate the canal Sunday morning with Jeff for the illusive silver bream which inhabit one particular area at this time of year. The wind by Sunday had really begun to blow and as a result the only fish that seemed present in the area we fished were the ever hungry hoards of mini perch. No matter where I cast my baits one of the little buggers would root it out. I only encountered one fish that was not a little perch and my hopes of a silver bream were dashed when the small silver fish turned out to be a roach bream hybrid.

We ended up moving to a more sedate area were the fishing was a little more comfortable and sat chatting about one of our favourite subjects, sea fishing; Jeff being an old hand hand and myself a novice due to go for a week long session in a few weeks time.

The final trip of the weekend was one I had in mind for a few weeks: back to Snitterfield. My original plan was to do some surface fishing for grass carp but on the way there in the afternoon I began to question my sanity as I pulled on the elevated road that leads to snitters and the true force of the wind hit me.

Being located on a orchard clad hill side this open lake can be the worst place in Warwickshire on the wrong day and this was one of them. Before fishing I took a walk around the lake to chat with some of the anglers already fishing. By all accounts it didn't seem to be fishing that well at all and the carp had not shown so much as a scale all day. So I opted for a change of plan and sought a quite sheltered corner to do some simple float fishing out of the wind.

My decision to change tack and use up my left over bait leftover from the weekend was the best decision I have made in a long time...

Fishing a 14ft waggler rod with my vintage centre pin and a light float rig only a foot off the rod tip the bites were instant. Most of the lakes resident roach seemed to be tight against the bank under the howling wind and after no less than twenty roach all between 10oz and a pound I was really chuffed. 

 An average roach.

I even switched to bread to try and root out some bigger roach but this resulted in me landing three bream on the trot of about 2-3lb. 

Three hours of constantly feeding maggots and my bait was seriously diminished so I began throwing a few pellets in for good measure which prompted the best surprise of the day as far as I am concerned. A timid sliding bite resulted in what at first looked like a small perch, but in hand I was confronted with the first of five micro tench which could not resist the soft pellets.

They don't get any cuter than this!

The sport continued right up until the sun set and on all but my last cast I hooked into what I thought was a big roach until it began surging up and down in the water. My first snit crucian of 2011 was soon in the net at 1.6lb.

I really enjoyed just fishing for whatever came along and not targeting anything specific on this occasion and have found a renewed joy for the singing sound that the centre pin's racket makes as a fish powers off on light tackle. All too often I fish using heavy gear to target bigger fish, so much so I have forgotten how much fun it is to use really light gear and classical methods.

Time to give them a rest.

Again the last minute opportunity arose for me to grab a few hours fishing on Thursday evening back at the canal. Like Andy my intention towards the local population of 2lb perch has waned. For me my attention now turns toward the ever present zander population.

Determined to try avoid the perch I opted for a dead bait bait approach with the idea that if a perch was big enough to consume a four inch roach it would be worth catching. Saying that I did bait my second rod with a mass of lobs on a rig so crude no self respecting perch would surely bother with it, and cast just off the ledge sans any loose bait; the idea being that a patrolling eel may chance upon it and it may fall under the radar of the percidae hoard.

To cut a long story short the lobs did not go completely unnoticed, but the crudity of the rig certainly put most of them off, bar two particularly stupid examples under a pound which took six lob worm half's on a size two hook attached to 18lb braid. But beyond that anguilla anguilla is still to make it's presence known.

On the other hand when the Zander did turn up to the party I landed two in quick succession. The better of the two being the rather paunchy female of 3.8lb. In the water she looked no bigger than the average canal Zander but in the net she really looked if she'd let herself go! As I suspected most of her girth was due to her being rather spawn filled but, whilst unhooking her I caught sight of a pretty decent size perch tail sticking out of her stomach which combined with her few thousand eggs gave her a rather unflattering profile.

I have fished enough times on this stretch now to have started formulating an idea of the fish feeding routines.

Bucking all the theories on when Zander feed, the fish here feed predominately during the day and in short bursts, which I actually suspect is them moving on mass up and down the stretch. Once dark it's time to go home, as every time I have fished in dark I have failed to catch and only had one run; whereas every time I have fished in the light I had multiple runs and never failed to catch a Zander once. 

After the capture of this heavily pregnant fish I feel it is time to give them a rest for a few weeks whilst they take care of some impending spawning. When I return after a brief break they should be a lot more streamlined and aggressive due to temp increases.

Bungled intentions.

Curse you red wine, curse you!


Those were my exact words as I stood in the kitchen at seven o'clock on Sunday morning with my head feeling like it was stuffed full of cotton wool. Although I had only over slept by and hour and a half this had screwed up my Sunday morning jaunt to my top secret canal carp fishing spot. I suppose I could have raced there but by the time I'd driven to the canal and tabbed miles of tow path I would have all of an hours peace and quiet before the boats started, so a change of plan was needed.


There was something I have meaning to do for a while and with my limited time it seemed perfectly convenient change of tack. 
I have heard along the grapevine that Jubilee pools big lake contains some rather large bream. I myself have never witnessed any of these rumoured leviathons, but the depth of this lake combined with the hoards of smaller fish and the masses of bait deposited into the venue by the dedicated band of carp anglers which surround this lake, lead me to believe that there could be some very large bream swimming in its waters. So this mornings trip was as much about finding out possible feeding areas as it was fishing.


Upon arriving I headed straight to the area where most of the carp fishing gets done. Chatting with those already fishing anglers confirmed that the bream here have taken a real shining to bolies/spod mix, and why shouldn't they when its getting throw in by the bucket load daily. So I set up down the bank in a position which would enable me to fish a couple of feeders whilst watching where got baited by others.

It all went pretty much to plan and as I made notes for future sessions my buzzers sounded intermittently as a shoal of bream passed time and again over my baited area. I took about five or six proper bream up to 3.6lb and a few immature skimmer bream. One had foul hooked itself whilst mooching over the bait causing the most unbelievable one toner and made me think I'd hooked a much bigger fish as it came in sideways.

Just about every fish like this three pound example were sporting spawning tubercles and fought pretty hard on the way in.

Later in the morning I decided to have a walk down the bank and investigate what I suspected was a group of carp milling round on the top. My suspicions were correct, and in an area called (ironically) 'no carp corner' by the regulars five or six decent carp were basking on the top. It was too much to resist! Even though I had no floaters I thought casting a pop up or two at them may give me a chance to a slurp or two. As always a few casts turned into many but sadly every time one of the carp went to take the white pop up it tuned off at the last minute. As I sat in the shade dappled corner I got chatting to a chap called Alan who is a regular fishing companion of  someone I know from another venue, so we sat discussing Zander fishing as I time and again flicked my single bait in front of these wary carp.

I never did contact any of those carp but still I spent an enjoyable day in the sun whilst bagging some bream and learning some very useful information for future trips to a venue I have ignored over the last few years.

Out for the night.

I just could not resist sneaking back to the canal for an impromptu session Thursday night. It may sound rather mental but I was intending to try and avoid the hoards of perch and try and find maybe a bigger Zander or even try for a hint of eel.

Just before leaving I dropped Andy a text informing him of my intentions. On the way my phone repeatedly rang and although I never answered it as that would be against the law (I wasn't ignoring you Andy) I knew perfectly well it was him. Back at the swim I had fished four days previously I was hurriedly setting up when I saw a figure coming towards me. It seemed Andy had the same thing on his mind and my text had only convinced him to pack the car.

First shot in both our floats went. Me with my first bream from the area and Andy with a nice perch. From the off we were getting bites on all lines. It took a while for my dead bait rod to join the fray but soon enough it went and the first Zander - all be it a tiddler - was mine, shortly followed by another lost unseen predator which felt much larger.

We made a strange discovery as the time ticked on. The perch, of which by now we had landed a couple of very nice examples, actually stopped feeding well before dark and everything went rather quiet. A little while later my now illuminated float began to stir in the dark; something was perusing the half pint of dead maggots and chopped prawn I had throw in to attract the attention of any passing eels.

It took a couple of tentative dips before the float totally disappeared. I could tell straight away this was no perch or Zander and definitely not an eel. When I caught sight of a big silver flank through the murk I really got nervous. It looked like a huge roach had scoffed my three lobs on a size 2 hook. 

When I finally turned on my head lamp well away from the waters edge saw at least half a big roach in the net, it was just a pity the other half of the fish was bream. Still it made for a nice brace shot with a perch just under two and roach/bream hybrid of just over two.

I made two discoveries on this session; firstly there seems to be two distinctive shifts of fish that feed at totally different times on this stretch, and second that taking pictures in the pitch black is really effin hard!

Jurassic perch

As always mothers day was busy one for me. Any chance of getting out in the morning for a few hours is a serious no no, as I have far to many stops to make. Any Star Wars fans who read this will appreciate my referring to this mad mothers day dash through Warwickshire as the kessel run!

My only option to get out was to make the kessel run in less than ten parsecs, get home, down my dinner quicker than a blogger downs a pint at the Xmas piss up, before jumping back into the car dukes of hazard style and screeching off down the cut.

The week before the suggestion had arisen between me and Andy to have another poky on the canal. I am absolutely convinced there are some very special fish in this stretch and I am also convinced that there has to be double figure Zander here too.

I arrived to find Andy entrenched in a sea of Sunday afternoon walkers who to be honest aint that bad BUT! by the time you receive your thirteenth ' is there any fish in there' or 'trying to catch some fish for your supper ' it is wearing very thin. I set up next to him. It wasn't the area I wanted to target but until the boat traffic slowed and the towing stopped and it seemed a fair enough area to fish. 

I didn't take long for me to start getting a few bites and after landing a couple of measly 10-14oz perch on my lob worm line I hooked my first bulging two pounder of the session.

2.1lb

Yes I did say first two pounder! The Midlands perch rush has in my opinion been some of the most insane fishing I have seen in this area for a long time, with fish between 2-3lb+ coming out over a myriad of venues constantly over the last two months. As for my part in this insanity, the particular bit of canal holds far too much allure for me to leave it alone. I was only intending to fish the lob rig for a bit of fun before changing over to another dead bait rig but something about this evening felt very right and the lob rig held it's first team place all night.

Once it quietened down both myself and Andy moved in opposite directions to our intended target areas.  In place I had to wait all of ten seconds for my float to zip off attached to a 1.14lb perch, at this point I knew it was going to be a good evening. My dead bait rod was soon away as well, this time a small Zander had snaffled one of my new mini dead baits from the boat channel. 

The action was non stop and perch after perch cast themselves upon my lob worms fished just down the edge. It did not take long for my next plump 2lb perch to turn up taking my tally for this stretch to five twos.

After a while the bites stopped and I knew exactly what would bite next... My attentions had been drawn to the dead bait float which was zipping across the surface. My strike was met by a good fish which ploughed straight for my bank. I was desperately trying to keep contact with it until out of the corner of my eye I spotted the bow of a barge chugging towards me. Annoyingly whilst trying to save my other rod a Zander of maybe five pounds appeared on the surface and did that bloody head shaking trick sending my hook flying. Whilst cursing the inconsiderate boater I hadn't noticed that my other float had slipped away until the tip of the rod was bending round attached to a determined fish. It turned out to be a  very small Zander which had more than swallowed my bait and hook, leaving only the line protruding from its stomach. Even before I tried to unhook it there was blood emanating from its gill covers, so rather than distress it any further I made the decision the knock the poor little fella on the head. It was far too small to make anything more than a hors d'oevre so I decided to try something I have never done before. Using Zander dead bait to catch a Zander.

I have heard like most predators they are cannibalistic. So I cut off the tail section of the fish hooked it up and swung it out onto the hot spot.

This had the desired result when after a while the float bobbed once then moved sideways before stopping as the fish dropped the bait. I gave it a while to see if it would go again before trying a trick I have used a hundred times for finicky Zander. I tightened up on the line and pulled the bait back gently about six inches. Bingo! The float immediately bobbed again then slid away totally. I felt rather smug as I struck into another small Zander and was powering it in with my Avon rod chuckling away to myself when I got a glimpse of the

fish. What I saw stopped my inane laughing dead! 'Stripes' It was no little Zander it was a big Sargent with a Zander tail firmly in its gob. The realization that I had been dragging the biggest perch I'd had from this venue in like a common Zander prompted a little more care on my part to say the least.

Finally I think I may have found key to sorting out some bigger fish and the result. A perfect 2.6lb wild as you like canal perch.

Even after this I carried on catching more good perch on the lob line. It got to the stage were if they didn't look 2lb or more I was just slipping straight back.

As far as I can guess I had at least ten that looked over a pound plus a few just under and the ones I weighed went 1.8, 1.14, 2, 2.1, 2.6.

The Zeds were having it too. With three under 2lb landed, a couple more shed the hook and the bigger fish that I lost as well.

My faith in how special this stretch is just gets stronger every time I visit and this was only reaffirmed after I packed up and walked up to Andy who also had a net full of big perch which included a huge looking fish.

As far as canal fishing goes there is no way I am gonna leave this alone as there is bigger perch, Zander and god only knows what else in here.

A lot of waiting for a little action.

Like a few others I have been dipping my toe in the fickle waters of Ryton pool on and off as the weather warms up, and a midweek session seemed the perfect opportunity to try again. A week or two of nice warm weather should be waking the fiskies from their winter slumber ready for a hearty breakfast. That's what I thought anyway...

Double figure temperatures and hazy sunshine made for good weather conditions and a few others thought so to as when I arrived there was three other anglers entrenched around the lake. I nearly always like to start out on the road bank but the peg I fancied was rather occupied by another regular and the only other free peg on that side was full of waring Canadian geese, so I opted to head for the shallow woodland bank.

Initially I started off in a swim called morris's but after punting a chod rig onto a holding feature on the opposite bank and a pva bag into open water, I spent the next hour scanning the lake for any signs of fish.

I sometimes amaze myself at my ability to discern the sound of a jumping carp from the noise a bunch of randy geese make when their kicking off, and somewhere in that racket I caught that lovely noise a carps tail makes as it propels its self skyward. Scrabbling along the bank I got into the next swim with enough time to see it breach again. The move was on!

Some frantic reeling and three trips later I was set up in a new swim and ready to fire the chod rig with upgraded lead as close to the area where the carp had jumped.

In front of this swim is a bar which acts as a fish highway so it seemed the obvious place for the bag rod to go. With the second rod out I settled in to make a few bags up ready for a quick change.

Early in the year I find putting the leads inside the bag reduces my runs for some reason, so instead I thread the  bags direct onto the hook link, this allows the lead to sink first with the buoyant bag slowing its descent onto the bottom. I have tested this rig loads of times in the edge, and nine times out of ten when the bag begins to dissolve and sink the hook link ends up straight in line, ready to tag anything that picks up the hook bait that is nestled within the attractive free pellets and crushed boilie.

Straight away I was getting indications on the buzzers but nothing seemed to be having it and soon I felt something was a miss. I am a real fan of slack lines but on this occasion I felt fish were on the baits but getting away with out getting hooked up. So some tension was in order! I hate having bow taught lines cutting through the water as it is a recipe for spooking wary fish, so the answer was to recast with a fresh bag and tighten up the line to straighten it out. I then slackened off to let the line sink, and tightened up with the bobbins attached using only the free spool, so the weight of the bobbin was resting on the floor but the line was just under tension against the flying backlead. 

I had loads of odd bleeps and was about to move on again before a different bleep sounded for the indicator and the bobbin rose slightly before dropping again. That was enough for me to strike and low and behold a dull resistance was felt through the rod. It felt heavy but wasn't pulling back much at all. What ever it was it came up to the top thirty yards out and wallowed on the top. A this point I thought I had hooked my first ever bream from this pool of which there are very few but which are very large but half way back I spotted green tail on the top.

My first Ryton tench of  2011 was soon in hand. Although it was on the lean side as they always are at this time of year it was a long female fish of 5.1lb. Later in the year when she's filled out she'll be well over six.

Later on I was just recasting after changing my chod rig over to another bag rig when mid cast the other rod screamed off on a proper one toner. I connected with a small but spirited common carp which vibrated its was right to the cord of the net before shedding the hook once in sight.

I only got two other runs both of which returned nothing but a sweetcorn masked off hook which I had added to the bag mix to add some continuity to the corn tipped hook baits. D'oh! but still they are waking up and  give it few more weeks and both the carp and tench should be hard on the feed.

Snitterfield beckons

I met with Andy for a second go at Snitterfield reservoir on Sunday morning to find it deserted and flat as mill pond. Slightly overcast skies raised my hope that the better roach might feed confidently given the lack of bright sunshine which I had encountered a few days previously here.

Before getting started there was a small forgotten matter I needed to settle... A month or so ago whilst on a trip with Andy and Dave to the windrush we had all agreed I small wager of a quid for the biggest grayling, which Andy won and which I had forgotten to pay him for. Not being one to welch on a gambling debt a brain wave had struck me the day before and I had prepared said quid for payment in a special way which I suspect may have quite a far reaching effect this year! 

Rather than explain it keep your eye on http://piscatorialpastimes.blogspot.com/ for a full explanation.

Whilst setting up half way down the road bank a second wager was agreed to give me the chance to take back the prize by catching the largest roach.  This would be a wager I was not destined to win.

Again I opted to fish the pole but this time I went for the a little more of a wintry approach for this still chilly lake by way of a few cups full of liquidised bread. The fish were still playing coy and both of us had to work hard for bites, but determination paid off in the end as floats began to dip and fish were soon being swung to hand.

We turned out to be the only anglers there all day. Maybe everyone else knew something we didn't but having the place to ourselves was real treat. It didn't take long for us both to start banging out feeders into deep water to try and search out a few of the bream which were rolling at twenty meters out.

Through the day we forced some roach and persuaded some small bream that our pellet hook baits were safe for consumption, and finally towards the end of the session the roach/bream hybrids made their appearance, fighting like made dogs as always.

In my last blog I wrote of how deep this lake is and this point was reiterated to me by some beautiful little bream I caught, which when they were landed were a pale white/silver colour from lack of light; after a few hours spent in my keep net in the shallows they turned dark brown.

Another thing I suspect about these bream is that they are not as young as there size may indicate. The bream in this lake seem to have a maximum size of about 3-4lb, the average being 1 1/2 - 2lb which is nothing compared to how big they can grow. If I caught one of these fish in the river or another lake my guess would be that it would be two or three years old and it would be in perfect condition, but these fish are definitely older as their fins seem worn, and are definitely not in that skimmer stage any more. Andy and I discussed this as we fished coming to the conclusion that the depth of the lake probably limits the amount of bloodworm the bottom feeding bream get to eat, whereas on a shallower lake there would be a ready supply, hence feeding fish achieving larger weights quicker. Here the slow warming lake combined with a limited amount bottom based food results in these almost stunted bream.

Change of scenery.

Sunday was supposed to be a continuation of mine and Andy's part in the great Midlands monster perch rush, until I got a phone call from him as I sat digesting my tea on Saturday evening... He informed me that news had reached him that our super secret squirrel hole canal stretch was out of action the following day.

With all our kit set up and ready to go for a canal foray the only sensible option was to simply try another stretch of canal. The only one that stuck out as a candidate was an area I fished last autumn which as far as I am concerned fits the bill for big perch, largely thanks to its population of signal crayfish. It turned out to be a total blow out! Keeping mobile whilst fishing four rods over an entire bridge to bridge section we managed nothing apart from a single crayfish which tried to make off with my roach dead bait. Even that had the common sense to let go before reaching my hand where I would more than likely have taken out my frustration on it with a bank stick.

With three dire sessions under my belt I felt the need for a mid week jaunt out and promptly went to work Monday morning and wangled a day off. In my current fish-less state I did not want to narrow down my chance of catching by being species specific, and in all honesty I just need to see that float slide away to reaffirm to myself that fish have not undergone some kind of mass extinction in Warwickshire. With those two things as key criteria I chose to spend a sunny day fishing pole in hand at a venue I adore.

Snitterfield reservoir

 

This small man made reservoir nestled on the sloping orchard lined hills of the Avon valley is a favourite venue of mine though I never spend as much time up there as I feel I should. This deep lake takes ages to warm up as the year progresses and its exposed location can make it a brutal place on the wrong day; but on the other hand it is rammed with fish and on the right day could put a smile on anyones face.

I haven't visited it since summer last year and what happened to it during our Arctic winter was anyones guess, but a week or two of sun had to be having its effect by now. The depth of it even a couple of rod lengths out is shocking, so like most pole fishing the edge was order of the day.

After setting up stall near one of the few overhanging trees on the lake I potted some sensas noire ground bait plus a few pinkies onto one line four metres out, and a deposited a cup of chopped worm under the overhanging branches to have little look for some better perch which I suspect this lake may hold.

I did not have to wait long for the float to dip and my first roach of the day made its way bank ward. It was by no means furious fishing but by constantly feeding small amounts of pinkies the bites began to come regularly if a little slowly. The best roach of the day came not long in at around ten ounces and was mint, as all the roach in this lake seem to be. 

Through the day I intermittently tried the worm line to no avail but after going back to my main swim again the float dipped quickly under and my hopes of a bigger roach seemed to have momentarily been answered until a skimmer bream appeared thrashing on the surface.

How I wished that were a roach!

I managed to keep the roach coming all day and the average size was pretty good at between 4 -8oz so I was in no way disappointed. Though I do rather regret not taking my keepnet, as net full of silver makes a cracking photo every time.

The lake seems to be coming to life, the constant dappling of the surface by small fish intersected by the occasional swirl of a larger carp. Even though the sport was not as hectic as it has the potential to be I think the slow warming of this lake means the water temp is well behind most shallower venues, hence the fish are still feeding in this winter manner. So if I get the chance to return at the weekend I may use a winter approach on a warm spring day to try and locate some bigger roach.

At the moment my timing is well off!

The last week I fished two sessions both having very poor results!

The first was an evening session with Andy on the bit of canal we have been exploring of late. It turned out to be a real rush for me to get there and I arrived just as the light was fading to see Andy beaming with Jack pike in hand, which turned out to be his second of the evening before I had even arrived. I had fished the area only a few days before and done well, scoring more good perch, a handful of small Zander and a plethora of missed runs. As I left I clocked out a nice wide tree lined area which I fancied may be a good area for bigger Zeds on my return for a night session. The cut and thrust of it was that most of the fish willing to feed where confined to a very specific area where I was not fishing and Andy was! All evening his floats repeatedly saw action until the later end off the session when his bites slowed and one of my ledgered baits in open water sprung to life as the fish seemingly began to move around. The gutting thing was that after waiting for a good three hours for this happen I really had to get going homewards. Leaving me in that awful situation of packing up just as the fish switched on.

Sunday was my only other chance to get out and although the river beckoned me to cast one last time into her flowing waters I found my self unable to go to her as an old ailment was preventing me from any protracted sessions off the beaten track. So instead I did the sensible thing and ventured to the comfortable banks of Ryton pool to again dip my toe in those temperamental waters.

Upon arriving in the morning murk the wind dropped momentarily enough for the ripple to disappear and reveal several patches of what looked like tench fizz all within casting distance of my position.I had only been cast out a few moments when a large carp breached beyond one of my rigs. It was too much to resist and I recast my rig further out on the same line of the jumping fish.

The fish were definitely moving in the area but after spending hours chasing patches of bubbles and the odd rolling carp I had nothing to show for it at all. By ten the lake seemed dead and I can only surmise that the feeding spell was over. For the rest of the morning I went through the whole repatoir and still got nothing. Again I had missed out on the party.

Somtimes it is just the way it goes; you're there a moment too late or just in the wrong place.

Can't find the three's for the two's!

With the closed season looming ever closer I had spent all week mulling over whether to chance the Avon for mine and Robs last session together before he jets off to the Caribbean for six months, or go for an easier option.

As with most things here in the UK the weather became the deciding factor. Both of us broached the idea of a barbel session, but a week of ever dropping temps got us both thinking that to go for a morning barbel session would beckon the blank so a couple of days before agreed a change of venue was needed. I suggested trying the new section of canal myself and Andy have been fishing because we were almost guaranteed to see some big perch. 

The cold wind that hit us as we stepped onto the tow path was merciless and with my thermal fishing clobber tucked up cosily at home I knew it was going to be an old school teeth chattering session. Walking up the cut I spotted in the distance three barges randomly moored exactly where I was hoping to fish but rather than look at this problem I instead decided to view them as a feature to fish too. At least until the occupants woke up and their bumping around shifted any hiding fish from under them.

A couple of days before going out I had been chatting to Andy about different method of fishing for these perch using a kind of hybrid stretpegging/laying on rig to combat the constant tow of the canal and had set up my own version of the rig Andy had used on his last session. My version, though how different to Andy's it is I won't know till he reads this, consisted of a size ten whisker barbed hook tied to a 3lb low vis hook link about 8" long with a small float stop just above the hook link to act as stop for a 3gram drilled bullet then up the line about a foot over depth was a small 2gram drennan loafer float enabling me to cast the bait onto a baited area without fear of it constantly drifting off it.

After baiting with a small ball of chopped worm and dead maggots held together with riddled mole hill I cast the new rig plus Lob worm close to hull off the boat and waited. The bites took a while to appear but after half an hour the float bobbed before sliding away.

The first perch turned out to be the smallest of the day at 12oz but soon enough some bigger fish over a pound turned up. I really wanted to explore some new swims hence no pole so after an hour we moved on to a more open swim. Again I had a boat to my right and the perch rig was again cast tight to the hull. I cast my second scaled up version of the new rig out into open water with a roach head on the hook looking for maybe bigger perch or Zander. 

Again it took a while to get some bites but when they did turn up it went mad! At one point I had just landed a nice perch when the dead bait float disappeared when a 3lb zander took the bait resulting in a two species brace.

The Zander really switched on - unusually when the sun poked its head out - and I got repeated runs and lost a couple of small Zeds before a barge passed through and ended it all. At this point I noticed a boat had moved off from the swim I had originally intended to fish so we moved one last time to have a go there before we retreated home to the warmth.

Repeating the same routine in the last swim I didn't have to wait long for the float to go under and this time I thought I had finally found a real monster perch which morphed into a small Zander before surfacing.

Little Zeds love Lob worms.

I persevered in this swim; after losing a couple of hooks to suspected Zander and landing a couple more decent perch I finally connected with a bigger perch, which seemed to be cast from the same mould as my previous brace of two pound fish. On the scales it again took the dial round to two pounds but not one oz further.

Another two!

The thought that this may of been a repeat capture was at the fore front of my mind till I got the pictures side by side and confirmed it was actually not a repeater but another chunky 2lb perch. I can only conclude that there is a class of fish in this area that has that wondrous combination of good genes, high survival rate and veracious appetites. I find myself pondering the whereabouts of the family member that is round that magical 3lb mark! On the other hand there is at least five fish that we now know of that in a few years could grow to god only knows how big all in a very specific area.

There also seems to be an above normal amount of Zander kicking around in the area too if the catch ratios are anything to go by. It's quite obvious that British waterways have certainly not electro fished this place in recent years anyway. So with that in mind I think a return trip one night this week with a bait bucket full of dead roach seems in order as my fishy senses are tingling at the thought that that there could be something very special here by way of Zander!

Fishing in The Duke of Marlbourgh's fish pond

I have a real love for fishing estate lakes! The combination of the feeling that this lad from a mining town in the heart of the Midlands gets mooching around on some lords country pile, and the ever romantic Mr Crabtree influences of yesteryear seem to always attract me to them.

When Keith initially asked me if I fancied sharing a boat for the day on Blenheim palace lake the possibility of me saying no was rather unlikely. From the moment I agreed I went into research overdrive as I looked for any fishing reports from the last three hundred years or so since the place was built. Before we even discussed tactics a few general areas had turned up time and time again in my research. A phone call prior to the trip had confirmed both of  us were on the same page. The Perca fluviatilis page that is! The perch in this lake can grow to some impressive proportions and my bag of clonkers a couple of weeks ago had whetted my appetite enough for me to dedicate this trip to them solely.

The early morning drive to Woodstock seemed to fly by and before we both new it we were standing in front of what can only be described as the most spectacular entrance to a fishery in the world. We were first in the queue but soon enough a cavalcade of cars were racked up awaiting the ceremonial opening of the twenty foot tall high medieval style gates that were nestled between a few hundred tons of hand hewn stone. I for one expected that when those hallowed gates were opened that we would be met by a Barbour clad gent flanked by two Labradors. Turned out to be a chap wearing stone washed jeans, white trainers driving a old Peugeot that looked more like a private hire cabby than the archetypal estate worker.

Driving down the long drive that tracks the lake gave a true impression of the sheer amount of water at our disposal for the day and I for one felt glad we had some kind of plan in place. By 7.15am we were carving our way up the lake towards John Vanguards Grand bridge passing a small shack at the top of the lawn as we did.

I read a fair amount of information about the Grand bridge as I knew it would be one of the target areas for the day. Built to honour the first Duke of Marlborough's numerous victories in battle it was supposed to be the biggest and grandest in the entire land before they ran out of funds and the plans were simplified by removing the top floors. Even though it was only half completed it was still the butt of many jokes at the time as this massive structure bridged no more than a trickle of a brook which was split into three shallow canals! Whilst reading I found this quote by Alexander Pope which I felt kind of made the point.

'The minnows, as under this vast arch pass, murmur, how like whales we look, thanks to your grace'

From a distance yes it looked big.

Moored up nearby you understand why it is known as the Grand bridge

One of the things I found most intriguing about this structure as an angler was that when Capability Brown and sons were hired  to re landscape the grounds his first decision was to totally dam the stream, flooding the whole valley to form the lake, which in turn submerged a whole floor of rooms at the base of the bridge. As anglers we all know structure means fish and I could imagine monster perch hanging in open archways waiting for prey fish to pass by. The reality of it was that hundreds of years of silt accumulating meant the water around the base of the bridge was only a few feet deep and those rooms were long since buried.

We did locate a deeper channel that ran in line with the large arch and this became our target area for this swim. Fishing a float rig into the channel with lob worms as bait whilst spraying red maggots over the top brought little interest from anything but after watching another angler land a nice pike opposite us I turned to see my own float from my dead bait line zipping across the surface which resulted in a plump pike that removed the possibility of the dreaded blank.

After agreeing to move we rowed over to a very fishy looking swim framed by a couple of bare trees whose limbs hung low and into the water. We were following a tip that the lake had a good depth in this area and had a reputation for big perch. It wasn't an easy area to fish as the wind which was hammering onto our backs dislodged my light float every cast. Keith who had brought a pole along managed to hold fast even with the wind battering him. After changing to a much more buoyant float to hold bottom I got what I thought was my first slow slide away of the float. Upon striking I could feel something was attached, though it felt rather inanimate to me. As I reeled it in it put up no fight whatsoever but in the boat it woke up and became rather aggressive.

Robbing little gits!

Up until I saw it break the surface I never heard anything about there being signals in the lake but now I began to understand why the perch population seem to grow so large here. A little later Keith did hook a nice fish in his seemingly crayfish-free swim; both of us hoped to see a spiny fin and stripes through the murk were surprised to see a tench roll beside the boat. Though we hadn't even got the net out, so for the first time ever in my life I tailed a tench from a freezing lake in February.

My crayfish problems only got worse in this swim as they severed my hook links and dragged at least three dead baits down their burrows for dinner, so again we moved down wind to another likely looking spot and as we did the sun finally showed its face after a morning of wind and rain.

Moody skies

The next chosen spot yielded nothing at all but over the other side a reed lined area in the lea of the wind called us over to its gentle waters. Approaching it the wind dropped and silence fell until I managed to crash the boat straight into the reed bed whilst trying to follow Keith's instructions and getting left and right oars rather confused. I did eventually get us out of the mess and into a nice position parallel to the reeds.

Anyone would think there was big perch here.

The day before I had heard along the grapevine that Jeff had been at it again and landed a double figure Zander at bury hill only a few days after bagging a double figure barbel from the Avon. Hearing this sparked a pure stroke of genius in my mind (Yes Jeff, you are now my muse) and it was now time for me to put my cunning plan into action. Combined with a liberal handful of chopped worm my new fish tempting totem worked a treat as my float slide away whilst I was having a look at my dead bait float. A quick warning from Keith and I was hooked into a determined fish. I was unsure of what it was was and if I was honest the acute angle my fourteen foot float rod was in as the fish swam under the boat had me squeaking a bit as I have seen  tips of long rods snap due to this before.

Looking worried!

 A paint brush tail breaking the surface confirmed our boats second tench of the day and at three pounds fourteen ounces added some vital challenge percentages. I have to put it down to my new camo creation.

My new Jeff hatt camo tricked this tench into thinking it should be in his hands

We decided to stick it out on the perchy looking reed lined area and put down some bait in anticipation of some big perch switching on as the light faded. With all kinds of features in front of us we felt sure something would sooner or later take interest in our baits!

.

Over hanging trees trees dead reeds  there has to be something hiding here!

and there was

Ronnies!

All to soon we stared to get the impression our dead roach lying on the bottom were receiving some rather unwanted attention. About half an hour before we were due back at the boat house Keith took a punt and cast his dead bait sans float out into the open water. This turned out to be the best decision made all day on our boat and after what we suspected may have been a ronnie run his recast bait was picked up properly. With only the bait runner as bite indication the whole thing was like a scene from Jaws as one click was followed by another before turning into a click click buzz. At first both of us thought a small jack may have been on the end of the line but as it neared to boat it really pulled back. My earlier pike had been chinned out no problem but the net was needed for this one, although the only one quickly available was a folding trout net. It turned from an unseen jack into a low double on the surface then whilst I was trying to force it into the net it became evident it was a much larger fish. Lying across the rowing board it seemed very long a rather plump! After two weighings a weight of 17.7lb had Keith beaming at a new PB and what a place to do it from.

With the fish carefully realised after a few photos we realised we were close to our departure time and quickly packed up and made our way back over the lake to the boat house. On our return we found that it had been a bumper pike day all round with one boat banking over ten fish with the biggest over twenty.

The whole day was great even thought he weather punished us at times and I have no doubt in my mind that I will be back in the summer after those illusive monster perch and probably tench as well.