I woke at up early at 6am. The alarm wasn't due to go off until 6:45, but that didnt matter, it was a fishing day. I was up like a shot.
I grabbed some breakfast and a cup of tea, and set about making jigheads before my mate arrived at 8 for our planned stillwater light lure session on a lake I had not fished before.
I've been running out of jigheads fast, mainly due to snags in the canal, and as they are quite expensive (and I am thrifty) I started making my own. I am using some light gauge long shank hooks and squeezing on an SSG shot onto the shank with pliers. Simples.
I was looking forward to today's trip, as my mate reckoned there are some decent perch to be had at the lake, and so I was going to give some different slightly larger lures. The 2" Kopyto shad looked good on my new jigheads, and so I hoped to give them a go.
At 7:45 my mate calls. He's got a flat tyre and has had to cancel the trip so he can go and get it fixed. Nightmare. As I was all revved up and ready to go, I decided I'd make the trip on my own. This was a good decision.
On arrival at the lake, I clipped on a reddy-brown 2" curly tail (my go-to lure at the moment). First cast was out towards a shallow marginal reed line. I was barely a few feet into the retrieve, and the tip of the rod started jagging about. Fish on!
As I brought it into the edge,expecting a perch, I was surprised to find a splendid, tiny pike. It was hooked neatly in the lip, and good job too. Those tiny pike teeth are razor sharp, and anywhere else and it would have sliced my flouro in two.
I put him back and then fanned a few more casts around the area. I also caught a nice perch, of about half a pound.
With it being a new water, I wanted to explore as many swims as possible. I love adventuring and the first time on a new water is always the most exciting for me.
Next swim further round the lake produced an almost identical result. A mini-pike on the first cast, followed by a decent perch.
This was great stuff. The lake has good visibility, and through my polarising glasses I could see fish following my lure. Most were smallish perch, but there also seemed to be plenty of jackpike around, and I was bitten off a couple of times.
I kept moving swims, covering new water, trying out different lures.
I was having so much fun that I hadn't noticed my belly rumbling or that it had started to rain. I decided to head back to the van for some lunch and pick up my rainjacket.
Lunch was chilli that I made in the slowcooker yesterday. There was tonnes of it. I was expecting to be feeding my mate too, but I'd made way too much even for two. It always tastes better warmed up the next day for some reason.
After lunch, I headed off to explore a spot where I had seen seagulls swooping down earlier.
On arrival in the seagull swim, I quickly realised what they had been feeding on. The margins were full of this year's fry. There were a couple of dense shoals of small silver fish, and as I watched, every now and again the surface would burst as a pike or a group of perch worked through the shoal. It was definitely the right time to be hunting predators!
I put on a clear-coloured grub, in the hope of imitating a wounded fry, and cast out beyond the shoal. First retrieve produced a small perch straight away. Then another, slightly bigger. Next came a better fish of 10-12ozs.
Back in, same spot, and another perch hit the lure straight away. They were backing off, behind the baitfish, but they were there in numbers. I had definitely found the fish.
For the next hour or so I caught a steady stream of 2-4oz perch, with the odd better fish amongst them. I also lost two pike, with the hook pulling out both times. It was frantic stuff, and I knew I had to make the most of it, because fishing days like this do not come often.
Then something very odd happened.
The cast was like any other I had made. The retrieve slow, with brief pauses to let the lure drop. Halfway in, and it felt like I'd pulled into a snag. Everything was solid for a couple of seconds, then the line started to pull back and away from me. It was slow and deep. I guessed I'd hooked another pike. I eased it towards the surface, but as I did, the fish rolled. A black fin broke the surface, followed by a black forked tail. What the?!! How?!! I'd hooked a bream on a lure.
Ordinarily bream do not fight well. But this was no ordinary bream. It was a monster. A fry-eating monster bream. I had to be careful. Thankfully, the pike I caught yesterday evening had given me confidence in my 4lb hooklength - and my knots!
The other thing yesterday's pike had taught me was to bring a bigger landing net. I had, although I hadnt expected to land a bin lid in it! I could barely get the thing in there. Safely on the mat. I stood there and stared at it. I've caught big bream before, but this was surreal. I weighed it... bang on 9lbs. My biggest light-lure caught fish is a bream!
I'm not sure if bream ordinarily eat fry. Perhaps the feeding bonanza was too inticing for it and it felt the need to get in on the act. Whatever the reason, it was a brilliant moment, and something I will remember for a long time.
After the excitement of the bream, I staggered around the lake in a bit of a daze. Everything was a blur. I was searching for something to try and top it, but how could I? Unfortunately I couldnt find any tarpon or mahseer.
I did find a few more hungry perch, and one particularly battered old 6lb pike.
I left the water at dusk, with the odd seagulls still swooping. Perhaps today was a one-off. Right place, right time. It's definitely one I will always remember.
Scores on the doors:
One flat tyre (not mine thankfully).
Legions of small perch. Biggest about 12ozs.
6 pike (biggest 6lbs)
Half a kilo of uneaten chilli.
One giant fry-eating crazy monster bream.
One Happy Angler!!
Saturday, 25 October 2014
Friday evening river session
By 4pm Friday I was needing some therapy. I grabbed the rod, and headed down the river for an hour or so before dark. It was a good decision.
A few casts in and the first fish of the evening was landed, predictably a perch. The medicine was already working.
It was a lovely evening to be out. As the setting sun lit up the far bank trees, the river started to look really "perchy". I was holding out hope for a bigger specimen, as I havent had any more than 4 or 5 ounces from the river yet. I caught a couple more small perch on curly tail grubs before searching out more new water to try out.
I dropped into a swim that had a steep drop off close in. It was maybe 12 feet of water only a few feet from the bank. I paid extra attention to slowly move the soft plastic grub around this margin, and it didnt take long before I connected with something. Something heavy. This was no perch!
The fish moved slowly and ponderously out into the middle of the river. It only took me a few moments to realise that It could only be a pike. The clutch on the tiny reel spun wildly, and I was glad that I had set it so loose. I was also glad for re-spooling the reel with the new flash 6lb braid I had bought, as I was able to feel every movement of the fish as it bore deeper out into the river.
Slowly, I drew the fish back towards me, making line slowly, and using every ounce of flex in the 8' quivertip rod. There was a few hairy moments as it made lunges right under the rod tip, as I could see the lure right in the middle of the top lip, but thankfully everything held, and after a five minutes or so, I managed to squeeze the pike into the foldway trout landing net that I use. Well, just.
I was shaking. It's been a while since I fought anything that was significantly stronger than the tackle I was using. It's a good feeling.
The hook popped out in the net, probably as soon as the line went slack as I only use barbless hooks. I didnt have a mat with me, but decided that a quick photo on the wet grass would be less messing about than weighing it. Lining it up against my rod, it measures 32", which reads 7.8lbs on my conversion chart. Not bad on 4lb flourocarbon and a barbless hook!
As the light drew in, the wind dropped, and the river took on a weird mirror-like appearance. I didnt manage to catch any more perch, or pike, not that I cared. The session was over and my therapy was complete.
A few casts in and the first fish of the evening was landed, predictably a perch. The medicine was already working.
It was a lovely evening to be out. As the setting sun lit up the far bank trees, the river started to look really "perchy". I was holding out hope for a bigger specimen, as I havent had any more than 4 or 5 ounces from the river yet. I caught a couple more small perch on curly tail grubs before searching out more new water to try out.
I dropped into a swim that had a steep drop off close in. It was maybe 12 feet of water only a few feet from the bank. I paid extra attention to slowly move the soft plastic grub around this margin, and it didnt take long before I connected with something. Something heavy. This was no perch!
The fish moved slowly and ponderously out into the middle of the river. It only took me a few moments to realise that It could only be a pike. The clutch on the tiny reel spun wildly, and I was glad that I had set it so loose. I was also glad for re-spooling the reel with the new flash 6lb braid I had bought, as I was able to feel every movement of the fish as it bore deeper out into the river.
Slowly, I drew the fish back towards me, making line slowly, and using every ounce of flex in the 8' quivertip rod. There was a few hairy moments as it made lunges right under the rod tip, as I could see the lure right in the middle of the top lip, but thankfully everything held, and after a five minutes or so, I managed to squeeze the pike into the foldway trout landing net that I use. Well, just.
I was shaking. It's been a while since I fought anything that was significantly stronger than the tackle I was using. It's a good feeling.
The hook popped out in the net, probably as soon as the line went slack as I only use barbless hooks. I didnt have a mat with me, but decided that a quick photo on the wet grass would be less messing about than weighing it. Lining it up against my rod, it measures 32", which reads 7.8lbs on my conversion chart. Not bad on 4lb flourocarbon and a barbless hook!
As the light drew in, the wind dropped, and the river took on a weird mirror-like appearance. I didnt manage to catch any more perch, or pike, not that I cared. The session was over and my therapy was complete.
Sunday, 19 October 2014
Autumn glory
Today was a great session.
It started off at the quarry, and despite fishing my way around the vacant swims, nothing was doing. So, I decided to head for the trusty canal again. Another stretch to explore, and I decided I was going to give every inch of the nearside bank between two bridges some serious attention.
I was trying to be more patient today. Let the lure hit bottom, then lift a little. Let it drop. Wait a little. Jiggle it again. Wait again. And so on and on. It seemed to be working too, as I managed a steady stream of standard canal perch in the 1-2oz bracket, with odd dumpy ones around 4ozs.
And so they came. The more patient I became, the more perch I caught. There were lots of micro features to explore on this stretch. Overhanging grass sods, alder stubs, and quite a few clumps of aquatic weed growing right down the edge. By the time I had worked the whole stretch between the two bridges, I had caught at least 20 little stripeys.
I was happy with the session, and was knew it was about time to head home for a roast dinner, so I decided to make a couple of final drops in amongst some marginal weed. I scaled down to a 1" blue/silver kopyto shad, and the first drop resulted in an immediate, positive take. Standard perch.
Next drop, same spot, 5 seconds wait and then a nibble, followed by a solid resistance as something much bigger hit the lure. The rod tip hooped over and I was into the first canal fish that was really fighting back. I unhooked my foldaway landing net, and slowly eased the fish to the surface. To be honest, I had hoped for a proper big perch, but I was still excited and happy to see my first soft-lure-caught pike in the folds of the net.
He wasnt big in pike terms, probably about 3-4lbs, but that's the beauty of ultra light lure fishing - using only a 4lb flourocarbon point, I had to be careful, and it felt like a monster compared to the legions of microperch I had been catching.
Maybe I got lucky with the hook being neatly in the top lip, or maybe that was the result of the gently jiggling, rather than a steady retrieve, like the ones that had previously resulted in bite-offs.
Whatever the reasons, I've banked my first ultra-light caught pike. Good feeling.
It started off at the quarry, and despite fishing my way around the vacant swims, nothing was doing. So, I decided to head for the trusty canal again. Another stretch to explore, and I decided I was going to give every inch of the nearside bank between two bridges some serious attention.
I was trying to be more patient today. Let the lure hit bottom, then lift a little. Let it drop. Wait a little. Jiggle it again. Wait again. And so on and on. It seemed to be working too, as I managed a steady stream of standard canal perch in the 1-2oz bracket, with odd dumpy ones around 4ozs.
And so they came. The more patient I became, the more perch I caught. There were lots of micro features to explore on this stretch. Overhanging grass sods, alder stubs, and quite a few clumps of aquatic weed growing right down the edge. By the time I had worked the whole stretch between the two bridges, I had caught at least 20 little stripeys.
I was happy with the session, and was knew it was about time to head home for a roast dinner, so I decided to make a couple of final drops in amongst some marginal weed. I scaled down to a 1" blue/silver kopyto shad, and the first drop resulted in an immediate, positive take. Standard perch.
Next drop, same spot, 5 seconds wait and then a nibble, followed by a solid resistance as something much bigger hit the lure. The rod tip hooped over and I was into the first canal fish that was really fighting back. I unhooked my foldaway landing net, and slowly eased the fish to the surface. To be honest, I had hoped for a proper big perch, but I was still excited and happy to see my first soft-lure-caught pike in the folds of the net.
He wasnt big in pike terms, probably about 3-4lbs, but that's the beauty of ultra light lure fishing - using only a 4lb flourocarbon point, I had to be careful, and it felt like a monster compared to the legions of microperch I had been catching.
Maybe I got lucky with the hook being neatly in the top lip, or maybe that was the result of the gently jiggling, rather than a steady retrieve, like the ones that had previously resulted in bite-offs.
Whatever the reasons, I've banked my first ultra-light caught pike. Good feeling.
Time well spent
Saturdays are days for bartering and trading. I spent the early hours sat with a cup of tea scanning Ebay for cheap soft lures and some braided line. Then, I opened negotiations with the Fishing Permission Officer. A promise of an afternoon to be spent shopping at the Trafford Centre earned me 2 hours fishing time before lunch. Married life is bliss.
With no time to waste, I stashed a rod and a bag of bits in the Bongo (Advanced Fishing Transportation Vehicle for the uneducated), and headed for a stretch of canal I've not fished for a while.
On arrival, with I unlclipped the lure from the keeper ring, flicked it down the margin, turned the reel handle once, and bang - a perch was hooked. First blood to a black and green 2" curly tailed grub.
I was immediately relaxed. So now, all I had to do was get into my routine.
Lure fishing on the canal is moving from new and exciting, to becoming familiar and predictable. This is no bad thing. With no other predators that will readily take a lure present, realistically, I am looking at catching small perch, with the outside chance of a pike having a go. So, the routine involves slowly walking along the canal, jiggling and twitching lures along the edge in the places which look right.
Also, rather than cover every inch of canal, I am moving on much more quickly. Find a feature - fish it - move on. This way I cover more canal, and get to see more stuff. Areas around bridges warrant the most attention. Next is anything which overhangs the nearside bank. Little alder saplings are the best, as their roots dangle in the water, and usually serve as a home for a hungry perch.
And so that is how it went on. I covered the distance between a couple of bridges, and lost myself in the canal and the moment.
What I cant show you here, is the wonderful sights, sounds and smells of autumn - the kingfisher which landed on an overhanging branch opposite me, and flew off before I had chance to pull out my camera; the shrew which ran across the towpath, pausing to take an inquisitive look at the strange man leaning over the edge of the canal (me); the sparrowhawk trying to nail long-tailed tits along the hedgerow; and the wonderful smell of wood-burning stove coming from the moored-up canal barge.
I ended up with half a dozen perch, and a smile on my face. No lost lures (that's a first!) and no pike activity. On the way home, I dropped by that pond again, and had a quick few casts in every swim, but to no avail. I am not sure there are even any perch in there. And so now for the shopping...
With no time to waste, I stashed a rod and a bag of bits in the Bongo (Advanced Fishing Transportation Vehicle for the uneducated), and headed for a stretch of canal I've not fished for a while.
On arrival, with I unlclipped the lure from the keeper ring, flicked it down the margin, turned the reel handle once, and bang - a perch was hooked. First blood to a black and green 2" curly tailed grub.
I was immediately relaxed. So now, all I had to do was get into my routine.
Lure fishing on the canal is moving from new and exciting, to becoming familiar and predictable. This is no bad thing. With no other predators that will readily take a lure present, realistically, I am looking at catching small perch, with the outside chance of a pike having a go. So, the routine involves slowly walking along the canal, jiggling and twitching lures along the edge in the places which look right.
Also, rather than cover every inch of canal, I am moving on much more quickly. Find a feature - fish it - move on. This way I cover more canal, and get to see more stuff. Areas around bridges warrant the most attention. Next is anything which overhangs the nearside bank. Little alder saplings are the best, as their roots dangle in the water, and usually serve as a home for a hungry perch.
And so that is how it went on. I covered the distance between a couple of bridges, and lost myself in the canal and the moment.
What I cant show you here, is the wonderful sights, sounds and smells of autumn - the kingfisher which landed on an overhanging branch opposite me, and flew off before I had chance to pull out my camera; the shrew which ran across the towpath, pausing to take an inquisitive look at the strange man leaning over the edge of the canal (me); the sparrowhawk trying to nail long-tailed tits along the hedgerow; and the wonderful smell of wood-burning stove coming from the moored-up canal barge.
I ended up with half a dozen perch, and a smile on my face. No lost lures (that's a first!) and no pike activity. On the way home, I dropped by that pond again, and had a quick few casts in every swim, but to no avail. I am not sure there are even any perch in there. And so now for the shopping...
Friday, 17 October 2014
Technical difficulties
We regret to inform that fishing has been interrupted due to technical difficulties.
First the backup camera that I use for fishing packed up. "Card Error" said the message. Stupid thing. Then, Real Life got in the way and limited my opportunities. It's not all bad though. The more limited the opportunities are, the more I tend to enjoy them when they do come around.
So, re-armed with my only remaining digital camera - the one I really don't want to drop in a canal - I grabbed a (very) short session on the canal.
On the canal, my UL lure fishing separates out into the use of two basic methods. Method 1 is to cast the lure out and bring it back, at whatever rate of retrieve seems right at the time. Results for this method seem to be fairly random. I can't predict whether a swim will produce or not yet. The positives are that it covers lots of water, and I keep busy casting around, which is always enjoyable. The downside is that I seem to lose more gear in snags this way. I picked up 4 or 5 perch fishing this way, all much like little this fella...
Method Number 2 involves jiggling a lure within a foot of the bank. I suppose it is similar to drop-shotting, but I tend to jiggle left and right, rather than just up and down. This method is more more predictable, and results are dramatically improved if I put myself within 15 yards of a bridge, reedbed, or pretty much any other deviation in the nearside bank. The stamp of fish is generally a bit bigger too, with 2-4oz fish being standard on this canal.
Bridges are definitely holding features. Wherever the canal narrows and deepens, the margins hold more perch. I know this from my old canal match fishing days, and I've saved many a blank in winter leagues by jiggling a worm right under my feet, or along the edge stones down one margin. I suppose this method is the same thing, only using artificial lure, rather than a live one.
I also remember that the best time to catch a perch close in is when a boat is approaching, or just going past. The canal pace quickens as the boat's movement draws water towards it. This must stir up food items from the bottom, and the perch must be tuned into it. I caught a fish for nearly every boat that passed.
A bit further along the canal, a passing boater seemed so surprised to see me catching, and photographing a wee spiny fish, that he didn't notice his boat careering towards the bridge, which was on a bend. He had to take evasive action, turning full throttle and turning his rudder right into the bank. The resultant filthy whirlpool put an end to any underwater visibility, and signalled the end of my short session.
Result: about a dozen perch caught. 4 lures lost in snags. Only one bit-off today from a pike.
Best lure of the day was a 2" bright yellow triple-tail grub.
First the backup camera that I use for fishing packed up. "Card Error" said the message. Stupid thing. Then, Real Life got in the way and limited my opportunities. It's not all bad though. The more limited the opportunities are, the more I tend to enjoy them when they do come around.
So, re-armed with my only remaining digital camera - the one I really don't want to drop in a canal - I grabbed a (very) short session on the canal.
On the canal, my UL lure fishing separates out into the use of two basic methods. Method 1 is to cast the lure out and bring it back, at whatever rate of retrieve seems right at the time. Results for this method seem to be fairly random. I can't predict whether a swim will produce or not yet. The positives are that it covers lots of water, and I keep busy casting around, which is always enjoyable. The downside is that I seem to lose more gear in snags this way. I picked up 4 or 5 perch fishing this way, all much like little this fella...
Method Number 2 involves jiggling a lure within a foot of the bank. I suppose it is similar to drop-shotting, but I tend to jiggle left and right, rather than just up and down. This method is more more predictable, and results are dramatically improved if I put myself within 15 yards of a bridge, reedbed, or pretty much any other deviation in the nearside bank. The stamp of fish is generally a bit bigger too, with 2-4oz fish being standard on this canal.
Bridges are definitely holding features. Wherever the canal narrows and deepens, the margins hold more perch. I know this from my old canal match fishing days, and I've saved many a blank in winter leagues by jiggling a worm right under my feet, or along the edge stones down one margin. I suppose this method is the same thing, only using artificial lure, rather than a live one.
I also remember that the best time to catch a perch close in is when a boat is approaching, or just going past. The canal pace quickens as the boat's movement draws water towards it. This must stir up food items from the bottom, and the perch must be tuned into it. I caught a fish for nearly every boat that passed.
A bit further along the canal, a passing boater seemed so surprised to see me catching, and photographing a wee spiny fish, that he didn't notice his boat careering towards the bridge, which was on a bend. He had to take evasive action, turning full throttle and turning his rudder right into the bank. The resultant filthy whirlpool put an end to any underwater visibility, and signalled the end of my short session.
Result: about a dozen perch caught. 4 lures lost in snags. Only one bit-off today from a pike.
Best lure of the day was a 2" bright yellow triple-tail grub.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)