LACC pairs open and a epiphany.

I was a little late deciding to enter this event and after making my mind up that I wanted to fish it I initially struggled to find a partner. It wasn't until I made an appeal to the chaps on the CRT England Facebook page that I finally found one in Ian Whittaker, and am I ever glad he stepped in. I'd met Ian previously on a Tusses match and at the CRT event and from what I had seen he was a methodical and competent, accurate lure angler with a fair bit of experience on the water. Little did I know that not only was he going to prove to be a brilliant partner but he was also going to change the way I thought about canal lure fishing all round...

The LACC pairs open is arguably becoming one of the best canal events in the country. Not only do the LACC run a superb event but it attracts loads of great lure anglers from up and down the country and this was very evident when I looked around the hordes of anglers tackling up for what was to be a very competitive event. If haven't built up a proper picture of the field of this event already I should make it clear that some of the best canal light lure anglers were there and of them many were proper specialists that do this week in and week out. This was going to be hard...very hard.

As we touched base with friends enjoying the inclusive bacon butty and cup of tea, we nattered loose plans for the day ahead. I'd located Ian getting ready and we quickly ran over our idea of what to do. Ian, having much more experience of this stretch than I, suggested we head to a section that had produced for him in the past where we could work our way along to try and locate fish.

Registration done we all stood listening to the expectations of the organizers before being released at ten second intervals. This staggered kick off was intended to stop a melee ensuing at the start of the match. The conception and realization of this were two totally different things and even under the instructions that there was to be no running, the actual fact was that there was plenty of unsavory jockeying for position as at least two thirds of the competitors were heading the same way down a narrow tow path. Eventually the hordes thinned out as anglers stopped at spots they fancied and soon enough we to came to the area where Ian thought we should begin.

The fishing for our pair went very well considering my poor start. Whether nerves or my unfamiliarity was effecting my performance I couldn't say, but initially I struggled to settle and thus switched from lure to lure and from method to method trying to get that key and settling first pluck.

The epiphany
Literally I had gone through a very large part of my go to lure fishing armoury and had not had a single dink, pluck or enquiry. Ian, on the other hand had lost one zander and landed two perch as he covered the water. It was at this point that Ian stepped in to get me dialled in for the sake of our team. As he ran through exactly what he was doing that was making all the difference and showed me it working in the clear water it was like a switch had been thrown in my mind. I am by my own admission an aggressive angler in many of the facets of my fishing and obviously to me now I was being very aggressive in how I was fishing lures. Ian on the other hand was being very subtle and this subtly was inclining fish that would not go near my aggressively fished lures to strike. The epiphany that struck me was how many opportunities I had probably missed in some amazing spots by being too aggressive and how many times had I been on fish and just assumed they wouldn't feed, when in actual fact they would have taken if it weren't for the fact I was being too aggressive!

To say the change was dramatic was an understatement. Matching the method and the way it was fished quickly brought me into the foray and in no time at all we had gone from a few fish on our score sheet to having a full quota of zander and most of the perch. With both of us working close together we quickly pinned down some shoals of small zander and worked them into a frenzy where they were chasing our lures right up to the surface and snatching them before we could recast.

By 11am we had the full quota for both the perch and zander and a rough tally had us just over two meters. Therefore we were both in agreement that as we needed to just up-grade, we should up-scale our tactics. This actually worked and intermittently as we worked along the tow path we found and caught fish here and there, upgrading our scores by a couple of centimeters. The one concern for us both was or lack of any decent sized zander. Our perch average was as we expected 25+, but the zander were a bit on the small side with most of them being around 25-30cm. If we were in a unlimited competition we would have been in heaven as we were throwing back small zander at an alarming rate as they were not big enough to improve our score.

With so many anglers battering the water senseless I suppose there had to be a point where the pressure took its toll and the latter few hours of the match the whole water seemed to shut off; it kind of makes sense with so many chaps stomping up and down the tow path, lots of yelling and coloured lures flying here there and everywhere. In the later stages we scratched a few perch here and there but our morning's scores were ultimately our best and we hoped it would be enough to get us up into the top half of the rankings.

In the end the finish was tight and the four best perch and four best zander limits did as it was probably intended and stopped any one team from running away with the lead. The top eighteen teams scored over two meters and in the end mine and Ian's team, 'Nothing to see here', placed 13th overall with some great teams above and below us.

I have thought about our performance again and again and truthfully I wouldn't change a thing about it. We caught fish and filled the quotas! I suppose our main problem was the lack of length in the zander we caught, but you can't always chose the fish you catch. We did lose a decent fish each which might have made some difference, but I reckon nether would have jumped us into a placing position.

This turned out to be a really enjoyable well run event by the LACC and one I am penciling in on next year's calendar already. If it keeps growing in popularity and size it should quickly become the premier open event in the UK for canal lure fishing and the organizers should be very happy with what they have done.

Really, I have to end this write up by thanking Ian. You were an amazing partner for this event and the thing's I learnt from fishing with you will have further reaching effects than you will ever know. You have actually changed how I perceive predators feeding and hopefully this will help me in any future competitive endeavors and certainly will help chasing specimens in the future. If ever you need a partner for anything you know how to contact me and thanks again mate.

Happy to be back.

With the rivers now closed and my diligence to try and eek every opportunity out of them over, I find myself returning to the canals. Frankly it's about time because I get the distinct impression that I was wasting my time a little trying to wring anything out of the river as neither fate, luck nor skill seemed to be on my side at the end there. The canals though, they're a different matter entirely because my angling is born of the canal and the murky water which dissects the land holds comfort for me with its familiarity and mysteries. At this time of year when the hedgerows flanking the cut begin to spark back into life with white blossom of hawthorn, I find myself never more satisfied than when walking a tow path to go fishing when dawn breaks or heading back in the dark with the smell of wood fires from moored boats drifts along the canal in cooling night air. All in all I am happy to be back in this world of muddy paths, unexpected surprises and dog shit.

In my mind I have a map. It's a rough map of scribbled lines and marked around those lines here and there are poorly written notes. If anyone could read those notes apart from me they'd say unintelligible worthless things like, chub/night/worm/shallow. They are things that only anglers would want to know, but to me they are invaluable. On this mental map you see are twenty-eight years of fish captures covering the Coventry, Oxford, Ashby and Grand union canals. Over time the map has become bigger and the scribbled notes have covered it more. Often I have thought about drawing it out, but I always conclude that there would be no point as no-one would want to read it so why bother; I can always look at it in my head and recall a spot to go if I want to angle after a certain fish; And recall I did, a place to go for my first session back and it was a big perch I fancied.

It was Friday morning and the sun shone on my face as I skipped down the banks of the Coventry. The wind though was cutting hard down the stretch right onto the bend where I wanted to fish. The canal looked in perfect condition with a nice tinge of colour whilst still having six to ten inches or so of visibility. After land mine check I quickly set up stall before plumbing the depth of a line just off the shelf. After flicking out the un-baited rig I busied myself chopping six fat worms into little chunks before adding some casters in my pole pot. By the time I had finished, the float had settled onto the line it would always go to in line with rod tip. Baiting up on the very tip of the rod with the pole pot whilst the water was not towing, you can assume that the bait will go straight down then once it starts towing, be left to right or right to left, the scent trail and goodies should remain on the same line even it moves either way.

Conscious of the low water temperatures, I went small with the baits to begin with and cast a lob tail over the baited line and sat down to wait. This was never going to be fast and furious session and I had to wait forty-five minutes for the float to finally show signs of fish be present. A single slight dip caught my attention and I waited for the light pole float to slide away. The light nine foot road bent over as if attached to the bottom and there juddered over even further as the culprit attempted to escape in a series of big boils in front of me. Caution and a light clutch soon brought it round to the net and my canal escapades had begun with a cracker of a perch. 

As I said before this session was not exactly action packed and to anyone reading, the details of a middle aged man shivering on the tow path would be boring. But what the session lacked in quantity it made up for in quality, though the single zander I caught on my dead bait sleeper did not rank high on the chart of quality fish!  

After the manky zed I only received four more bites. One bite I totally missed, another resulted in a miniature version of the first perch albeit only six ounces in weight. The next one was by anyones standard, a fish with some potential for years to come.

The last and final fish of the session was in the nicest possible way a football of a fish. It felt heavy in the water and in the net looked like a slab. When I picked it up and looked from above I couldn't believe its girth and just had to get a shot of a perch you could put a saddle on and a really tiny monkey, like a marmoset, could ride. 

I do love these shape of perch. Sure, I like all big perch but I love the big round ones that look like real life versions of the stuffed ones you see in glass cases rather than the long humped back ones, and it was the perfect way to finish a hard but very rewarding session with my second fish of the session over two pounds.

Two days later I found myself on a different tow path twenty or more miles away from the first. This time I  scoured my mind for a suitable place to try for a big roach and the Grand Union seemed to fit the bill. Armed with a bag of fluffy white bread crumbs tainted by a hint of a morish but mysterious flavour simply called 'big roach' and a few slices of a better than normal quality bread I hoped might attract a better sort of fish, I headed to a spot with form.

My diddy and faithful nine foot canal wand was tucked up at home and for this occasion I was once again armed with fifteen feet of carbon that I am quickly developing a close relationship with. The reason I'd bought along my Greys 15ft was I wanted to fish in the same way as the previous session only further out. So far this rod seems to be living up to the expectations of the manufacturer in that it is rated for lines between 2-8lb, which I thought a wide set of post to perform well between, but so far so good. Its not so much of a rigid beast as it knocks off smaller fish and when asked, the power of the rod progresses right down the blank with plenty of power. This time I was putting my faith in it that should a roach over a pound and half or even two come along then I should be confident in my gear.

The roach fishing did not go to plan! Saying that I did catch a roach but at a mere four ounces I felt almost shameful trying to photo it and instead simply flipped it back to grow bigger likes its siblings. Luckily for me I still had the remnants of the previous sessions bait and had by way of insurance been potting a few bits of worms and casters a rod length down the tow path in the margins. After sitting for three hours staring at a float which had moved only once I was more than ready to have a look for a perch or two, which after all was what I normally fished for here and were my target when big roach have turned up in the past.

Having already established the margin swim was a few inches shallower than the track swim beforehand, a quick adjustment of the float was all that was need before I lowered a lob tail on the spot. I watched as the cocking shot sank the float down so only the red tip showed above the water. My eyes barely had time focus on the float before it quickly vanished and I struck into a good perch. It feels a lot different playing a big perch on fifteen feet of rod rather than nine foot, but as expected the soft tip action cushioned every lunge and my third two pound perch of the weekend was soon in the net.

The insurance spot it seemed was alive with fish using the bank as cover and a string of smaller perch and a single zedlit which came off filled my final hour. With only six worms left and a sprinkle of casters, I baited up one last time before resting the spot whilst checking nothing had slunk back onto the roach line. Fifteen minutes and three barges later it was time for one last go on the margin spot before I had to get off. With a fresh half of worm on the spot I waited with the preposterously long rod resting across my lap as the float bobbed in the ripple only a foot and a half down out under the tip. I didn't have to wait long though before the float moved away from the edge and sank out into the canal. Once again the rod bent satisfyingly over as boils rose on the canals surface. This was another big fish and as much as I wanted rogue roach the fight didn't seem quite right. Finally spines broke the surface followed by stripy back. A few twists and turns later the white of the belly showed and big mouth appeared at the edge of my waiting net; My fourth and final two pound perch went in the net and helped to turn what was a disastrous roach session into the second perch red letter day on the trot.

Dual purpose fishing.

So far this season I have made very efficient use of my time I think. Not only do my captures reflect as much but my standing in the current fishing challenge does as well. In the latter case I find myself slipstreaming the leading group with an eye to challenge the top three over the colder months when the sport moves towards advantageous species for me. And considering I can't get out fishing nearly as much as the people ahead of me, then I think I am doing well really.

Retaining this efficient vibe I needed to do some reccy work on a section of the Warks Avon that I'd specifically joined a club to fish, and what better way of clocking out a venue than to actually lure fish it, which I was itching to get back at anyway. You see a lot of people just see lure fishing as a great way to catch predatory fish, which it is... But I like to treat it as leading around (as carp anglers do) as well as trying to catch predators. I've said this before but it's worth saying again that you can figure out loads of information about a venue by slinging out lures; by throwing jigs depth, type of bottom, weed bed location and snags are all discovered. Whilst throwing lures around I always keep my eyes open for fishy activity and this not only helps locate predators but other target fish too.

I actually went to this section of river to have a lure session very early in the summer but on that occasion the temperature was so high that it felt like I was in a sauna outside. On that occasion I abandoned my attempts to fish that section and instead sought the deep shade of a lower section where I found a few jack pike lingering amongst the summer rushes, and filled my brain with information about the section that has produced some nice barbel last month for me.

On this session the summer seemed a distant memory with heavily over cast skies and impending rain soon to arrive. The river though looked slightly coloured in the deep weir pool I began on. Looking into the margins revealed the truth though, that the Avon's waters were very clear indeed with three or four feet of visibility. I felt sure this would actually work in my favour so as any predators couldn't fail to see my lures. I began by targeting the slower parts of the weir pool using a natural coloured shad style baits on a ten gram jig heads to send it quickly down to the bottom. Quickly I was building a picture in my mind of where the gravelly areas were and location of any snags. My first bit of interest came when I bounced the lure through a large eddy on the opposite side of the weir and the rod buckled over as something snatched the falling lure. It felt like a very good fish as it kept low down in the foaming water. Unfortunately the hook let go of its hold as the fish fought away on the depths. As the line fell slack and reeled to get back control the lure the fish actually hit it again shaking its head before letting go again. An inspection of the rubber lure showed slashes along its side which more than likely meant a nice pike had just got away.

After moving above the weir I concluded to actually walk along the stretch as far as I felt I could before working my way back down fishing alternative pegs as I went. I like to do this as when I cast lures on these pegged out sections of water as I find myself casting quite far upstream and downstream, therefore large areas of water get covered from adjoining swims and because of it being a big stretch of water I can cover more water than if I was fishing every swim. Saying all this though, if there's something that perks my interest I will just go into that swim and fish anyway. Which was exactly the case with the swim I began in.

How could I resist a close to fifty foot long stretch of willows hanging right out over the water. From what it looked like the water under them was deep, dark and the perfect resting or ambush point. The lure went in and dropped easily fifteen feet on a soft bottom. I systematically worked the lure back before firing it back close to the overhanging leaves. I'd covered maybe a third of the feature when I got hit hard as the lure crossed the centre of the river. I don't know if the fish had followed the lure out of the cover or if it had crossed its path in the main flow, but whichever way, it wanted it and was now connected to my rod. It shot down stream as I reeled down on it and tried to keep it from diving straight into the pads in the margins of my bank. The fish did get into those weeds but softening autumn weed and braid aren't good bedfellows and soon the round pads were off downstream and I had a nice looking zander bundled into my net.

The colouration of the fish indicated the light was getting down to the bottom but surprisingly they were still up for a feed. Maybe the depth was a factor here and it inclines them to feed even though the water was clear. This definitely seemed the case when I got a second hit from further down in the same swim. This one though got off from either a bad hook set or maybe it just let go. A few swims later the same thing happened, I got a hard thump and a quick head shake before the fish was gone. I am sure both lost fish were zander that had grabbed the lure beyond the hook and I was also sure that all the fish were picked up as the lure crossed their path mid river where I suspect they might have been laying on the bottom.

I had to work through what seemed like a prime area as I went down stream. It had cover on both banks and lots of pads and weed in the margins to conceal any predators. Honestly I thought it was going to be pike city but it turned out to be pretty barren no matter what lures I threw at it. Things didn't change until I moved into a section with a long clean cut reed bed along the opposite bank. Here the river dropped off at the bank into ten feet of water and once again this depth seemed to be a factor as straight away I hooked another zander lingering around the middle of the river. This was smaller than the first one I landed but still fought hard and was reluctant to come up and when it did just gave up rolling into the net.

The pike though were conspicuous by their absence on this session and it wasn't until the river started to shallow up towards the weir that a tiny one shot out and grabbed my falling lure. Though very cleanly hooked, this miniature monster bit the tail off of a brand new that I'd only cast once. Having unhooked it the tail of the lure was hooked up in though band new needle-like teeth. I only tugged at it gently and the tail of the shad was gone, leaving me with useless rubber ornament on my hook.

The river and my time soon ran out and I left it alone not long after that little pike swam away. I did give the weir one last go and covered the water where I'd lost that big fish first thing but that was no avail. I had been a good session on both the fish and the reccy front. I'd figured quite decent overview of the depth of the stretch, I'd found some interesting features in which to target later in the year and also got a few hints that there could be a very good population of good averaged sized zander in the area which I will definitely be targeting once the water is up and coloured and their after an easy meal.

Christmas catch up.

I always find myself trying to catch up in the New year with my blog. What with working in an industry that relies on the holiday season and having a large family, my time becomes rather constrained over the holidays. As I am a true angling addict and cannot not go fishing it's all other non necessary time consuming actives that pay the price and blogging is in there with them. 

Anyway the holiday season has finally passed away into the memories along with 2016. Looking back through last year's posts I quickly concluded that I had a decent year all things considered and judging from the photos I caught a lot more pike, zander and perch than I can remember doing. In catching all those predators my affinity and love of lure fishing has grown along with my knowledge and ability. Literally ten years ago I would have never conceived becoming such an avid fake flinger. A year of repetitive casting though has been peppered by a few memorable sessions using other techniques that have paid dividends in years gone by, inspiring me for the coming year. Carp of both the crucian and king varieties weigh heavy on my mind in these young cold months when so many plans are conceived and so ideas that have been shelved away for too long will get dusted off later in the year.

Back to catching up and I did actually do some fishing over the holidays. From what I remember the first was a relatively successful micro-fishing session on the Coventry canal. It was successful as all I caught were micro fish and quite a lot of them. The whole idea of using these tiny lures to search out every nook and cranny on a canal is novel enough, but seeing how deadly the method is proves exactly why this is such a fast growing fun area of fishing in the UK.

I absolutely love these tiny Allure creature baits by Crazy fish. Through the session I fished both drop shot and on jig heads all around any structure I could find and they always seem to find small pods of fish and persuade them into attacking.

My next outing I went chub fishing... Yes you heard that right I went chub fishing, quiver tip rod, bread and all chub fishing. With only a few hours of daylight left one spare afternoon I grabbed my newly assembled short session kit and nipped to an old stomping ground high up the Warks Avon where literally you could jump the river should you be brave enough to try.

It was great to be back creeping around in the under growth, well I thought I was creeping anyway. The reality is that with spending so much time on the civilised banks of canals I had forgotten how much harder it is to move round through banks lined with old reeds and six foot high nettles blown down by the wind. My techniques for traversing barbed wire fences could do with some polishing given that I nearly  hung my family jewels up like washing on a line on a couple of crossings. It was all worth it though when you get a view of sections of river that is hidden from view for most of the year and only reveals itself for a few short months at the point when the year's growth has died away and is still waiting to renew again.

My fish location proved a bit rusty as well, and it took me a couple of clumsily wasted swims to finally get that quiver tip to rattle round, before a small but very clean chub grabbed my nugget of bread as it skipped under a raft of rubbish collected round the branch of a tree.

Both previous sessions had been relatively short and sweet as they were mere stolen hours here or there. It wasn't until right at the end of the holidays when I finally got my act together enough as to spend an entire morning out fishing. Getting out on this morning wasn't the only problem though. The night before the sky had cleared and the temperature dropped drastically. With a heavy frost and frozen puddles lining the city roads I felt it was a safe bet that both the canals and the commercial pool where I wanted to try my luck for a new perch PB would topped with a thin layer of cat ice. So I switched kits, grabbed a lure rucksack and a light/medium weight lure rod and nipped of over to Leamington to target the sluggish waters of the river Leam.

I'd heard from a friend of mine, Dave Cook, that there was quite a few prey fish shoaled up in the sheltered stretches around Victoria park, and if I know anything it's that the resident pike will not be far away from those smaller fish.

My tactics were quite simple in truth. On previous visits I had formed a mental map of the depths and summer time features of the stretch. Using that knowledge and a few select lures I felt were suitable, I worked my way up through the park targeting the shallow margins where the dead lily pads were, using shallow diving hard baits like the storm ghost minnow and the deeper centre of the river using medium sized fox spiky shads on 10 gram jig heads.

It took most of the morning and a lot of casting before I located the prey fish holding just in the deeper water behind a shallow area at the top of the park. After arriving and making only a few casts, I spotted fish topping and new this would be the area to concentrate on. After eventually dropping the weight of jig head to 5 grams to slow the lure movement down, I cracked the code and got a couple of slashed takes before hooking a micro jack pike. From then I just concentrated on the area; repeated casting and a few lure changes routed out two more tiny pike and one slightly better one which I was very happy to finish with.

Back on track.

Considering the hours of my life I've spent staring at a float I wouldn't of thought it possible to forget just how much I love float fishing. A year of chucking lures though seems to have gone some way to making me forget, but easing myself gently back into to fishing without any arduous walking sessions has steered me back to this forgotten loves arms.

First came a very brief session where, to just get out, I ventured down to the closest bit of canal with a single short float rod rigged with a simple pole float, to ply worms down the nearside track whilst just enjoying being out again.

With a handful of brutally chopped yet wonderfully oozing worms as a carpet to attract... well anything, I swung a single writhing worm delicately onto the spot and sat back and enjoyed fishing again. It felt at the time like I had missed an entire season of the year, as when I was in hospital weeks ago spring was still stuttering along and now the banks that lined the Oxford canal were thick with greenery and the blossom of the hawthorn peppered the hedgerows white. With cold nights becoming a distant memory the perch population at least had settled into voracious summer feeding habits as well.

Not a few minutes went by without the delicate float dipping here and there as the hordes of little striped predators tugged at the wriggling worm. Now and again greed got the better of them and the float would sink away as one tried to escape its brethren with worm. Quite quickly I was amassing a respectable tally of pint sized predators and any passing match angler might have appreciated the session, seeing me plunder the normally frugal cut.

If I know one thing about fishing this method for perch it's that they generally get bigger as time progresses and it was exactly so on this occasion. After every deposit of feed the size of fish landed increased. The slew of fingerlings made way to a few hand sized fish, you know the ones that aren't quite big enough to dip the net for but put a worrying bend in the tip of your rod. Then as the bites slowed the bigger crew showed up and at close to a pound the net has to get deployed. When those fish disappear and the float holds fast above the film of the water you know there's a good chance a rouge monster is on the cards. When that bite came the little rod bent right round and a proper perch smashed round the canal furious at the price of it's free meal.

A couple of hours, a mess of small perch, a handful of bonus pounders to ice the session and a monster mother as the cherry on the top and I was done. It was the perfect way to get out fishing again and once again light the fire of my float fishing love.

With my mind still focused on the float I mulled over my next session, but it was news of change that led me to my next venue. I love Napton reservoir and when I stood freezing in the winter wind casting lures into it I dreamt of summer tench fishing there. Recently though things have changed and Coventry Angling Associations strangle hold on it has yielded and the news that Leamington Angling had obtained the rights to fish it emerged. 

Now I will put it out there that I am yet to be convinced of whether this is a good or bad thing. On one hand Leamington really look after their venues and I have the utmost respect for this. BUT! They also have a habit of interfering with their waters in ways to make them a bit more... financially viable. I watched with trepidation as they turned Ryton pool from a wonderful wild tench water into a mini carp water with the random stocking of some questionable carp. Also they have a naughty habit of after a few years starting to ask for a small day ticket fee on top of the club membership under the guise of "restocking", which in reality seems to be a way to fill their already swollen coffers. All that aside, I want to fish Napton so a membership has been purchased to enable this to continue in the future.

If you've ever fished Napton you know it takes more time to get your seat level on those rocky banks than it does to set up all the rest of your gear set up and after settling down on the causeway facing out into the big half of the lake, I finally began the complex dotting down of my Drennan glow tip antenna float. I love to fish these floats with the last shot just off the bottom and it can be difficult to get it set just right so as when a fish bites the float works in both as a normal float would, going under, and as a lift float, which rises when a fish lifts that last shot. It's worth it though for the added sensitivity and on this occasion it proved a brilliant choice.

The tench and fish as a whole were being particularly shy and with eight other anglers up and down the bank from me literally I was the only one striking at fish. Most of the strikes came to very little but every now and again I connected with a nice perch in deep water, some of which were getting on for two pounds. Frankly where these perch were when I was lure chucking in the winter is a mystery, but show them a few casters and they were well up for it.

It wasn't the perch I was really after and in the end I struck into a solid fish which made me look a royal prat by charging straight into the only small reed bed nearby and getting away with a deft flick of its tail. I had to work very hard feeding small balls of ground bait and regular pouches of casters over the top to get my second swing at old red eye. After hitting a tiny rise on the float this one headed out into the lake like a flipping marlin, stripping line off the reel. A few changes in direction later and that one was off too. Sadly this can be the problem when fishing small hooks with tiny baits for powerful fish.

Looking back though I don't think the rod I was using helped me at all. Wanting a bit of back bone I'd dusted off my John Wilson Avon rod, but being as soft as it is and only eleven foot long it bounced around all over the shop in the brief tussles and didn't feel great at all. It was enough to send me grubbing around in some unused rods to find a fourteen foot power match I've got that needs a little repair, for future sessions when I will be back to settle the score with the green buggers in Napton Reservoir.