Saved by the Perch

I've spoken before of my love for perch, but this week I have more reason than usual to feel grateful for these fish. In simple terms, they are life savers. They give a focus to that fag end of the late season when everything looks flooded, frozen or bordering on hopeless. The bait is often free too, while even the smallest day ticket lake can yield proper net fillers with a bit of effort.

It's funny how our attitudes shift during the season. After lashings of rain and general punishment on natural waters, the very commercial fisheries you weren't so crazy about last month suddenly seem very tempting. Hence after three blanks on the trot with pike, I was relieved to forget the rivers and join Chris Lambert for a crack at Viaduct fishery, Somerset.

Out of sheer naivety perhaps I expected plain sailing as we loaded up my motor. Closed roads and squeaking windscreen wipers removed this illusion before we ever got near the fishery. I'm no fair weather fisher, but even I wondered what we were letting ourselves in for as the wind started to howl and we crossed high, muddy rivers. I was determined not to blank though and we got ourselves well set up for the day. Besides waterproofs and a giant flask of tea, I watched Chris Lambert assemble a lunch with more calories than a Glasgow chip shop.

The fishery itself was wind and rain hit from the off as we skirted round a match on Carey Lake to set up on Campbells, which is opened for only a limited period each year to perch anglers (it's usually match only). Chris was gunning all out for a big perch, hence prawns would be his main attack. I wanted to simply catch before worrying about any figures, so I dug out my pole and a good supply of worms.

I often find the textbook advice is next to useless when it comes to the iffy late season perching. One thing to note is how changeable the typically shallow commercial lakes are. It can be a real game of hide and seek. A cold or warm spell can totally confound expectations too, but my first port of call with perch in an unfamiliar lake is to establish where the deepest and snaggiest water lies. Most of these pools have a "dam" end, often with a concrete structure or overflow which can be a decent feature in its own right. Snags are more misleading in my experience. They can look great, but without sufficient depth beside them they can be mere eye candy (and sadly this is real life, not "Mr Crabtree Goes Fishing").

The session required quite careful feeding and fishing in the end. I fed three pole lines, one with chopped worm and ground bait in the deepest water, plus two marginal swims fed less often with a mix of chopped prawns and worm. Other than nearly getting blown into the lake, the only excitement was with a handful of skimmers.

The margin swims took somewhere in the region of three hours to signal any interest, but I kept switching over to each in turn every so often, just to see if anything was showing. Meanwhile, Chris was busy catching tench that kept stealing prawns intended for perch. He also tried right by the legs of the nearest platform for a bite or two- an often overlooked area for perch.


The weather got so horrible at one point that we seriously considered packing up. I had abandoned my box for parts of the session, if only to avoid a drenching by huddling under Mr. Lambert's shelter. As the weather got a bit less nasty though, I finally managed to hook a fish that clearly wasn't a dead-hearted skimmer but something very possibly stripy and spiky.

By trickling small helpings of chopped worm into the swim I just about managed to keep a few bites coming, finishing with four perch over the pound mark, the best of which I'd guestimate at a little over a pound and a half (above). Not exactly earth shattering fishing, but a big improvement on nothing and an enjoyable day out.

I never like to get too techy in this blog, but a few questions are still swimming in my head. One is the behaviour of perch on really wild days. Does a strong wind put them off I wonder? It's not the first time I've struggled to get a bigger fish on a blustery day. The only thing I can say for certain is that ugly conditions make every job slightly harder. I'm pining for the spring, as it happens, and being able to swap the tub worms for a box of flies.

Digging for Victory

The beauty of being an angler of varied tastes is that there is always something to go for. I must be honest- my first choice on a spring day might have been very different to legering for carp. But take a really grotty day and persistent rain, and you have a much better recipe for action on a carp lake than on a trout stream, for example, that has been transformed from pure gold to pure filth.

Creedy Lakes are a place I hop across to once or twice every season. I also like to experiment with baits, largely because the place sees so many boilies I always suspect the carp are sick of getting caught on them. Bread and maggots both feature high on my list, but I really fancied giving worms a try and spent the best part of an hour gathering several hundred from the compost heap. Hard on the back, but completely free bait. They can be a pain to feed at distance, so I went for a spomb to put plenty of chopped feed at around thirty yards out.

As for presentation, I went with one running rig, and one semi fixed. With plenty of clay-like, sticky mud with the bait I even tried a rather gruesome method set up. No additives or gimmicks whatsoever here- just plenty of natural bait and very dirty hands. But was it to work?

It didn't take too long before the running rig was getting twitchy, and then a full blooded run and a fish of ten to twelve pounds. I then added a smaller one and an eel into the bargain, before things went quiet and I added more feed. And the day tended to follow a similar pattern- the fish would come on, then only return after re-feeding with quite generous amounts of worm. The next one fought really hard on my standard Creedy tackle (1.5 TC rod, 10lb line) and was absolutely solid around the middle at 16.08lbs:


Two tench added further variety, before I eventually got fed up with the rain and went back for a hot bath. Mission accomplished I guess, and a decent return for a really crappy day of weather. It literally didn't stop raining for a second until about four in the afternoon and perhaps not surprisingly Creedy was less busy than usual. Not that I was grumbling- and I enjoyed the company of this little chap for most of the day, and he even got a few free worms into the deal:

Bits vs Beasts

If ever a session illustrated the merit of having different lines of attack, it was my last canal fishing trip with Russ Hilton on the Taunton to Bridgwater. The subtext was getting a few more shots for my canal fishing book and some practice for the Tiverton Christmas match, but I was just looking forward to some fishing as opposed to merely writing or talking about it. At the start it looked like we might catch silver fish all day long on bread punch. And had we so desired, that would have been a distinct possibility, so stuffed was the venue with small rudd and roach. It didn't matter whether you went all cute and fine with a tiny piece, or switched to flake on a fourteen, the hordes descended.
Russ was definitely catching these quicker than I was, at a fierce old rate on the whip. Makes me think I should dig my old whip out again at some point. A four meter model, with pointless yellow decor on the handle, was the first ever fishing rod I could call my own as a small boy. But in terms of fish caught that crummy length of fibreglass probably represents the best value item of tackle I've ever owned. It was the downfall of many Thames roach, as well as bullheads and bootlace eels. Not quite as posh as this rather sexy Sensas model you'd have to say:

But I digress. Fun though it is bringing endless rudd to hand, it's always nice to put something bigger in the net too. And the trouble with small baits is that it can take an age to get through the bits and pieces. Luckily enough from my own, slightly disorganised perspective on this occasion, Hilton came up trumps with a ridiculous bag of worms and strict orders that he didn't want to take any of these home.
It's a plan that works so often on canals, but worth reiterating the value of a "feed and wait" line on the cut. A pole cup of chopped worm and caster went across to a tree on the far bank, which not only looked fishy but had good depth under it. Apart from a top up after an hour or so, this was left well alone while I kept out of mischief by pinching more rudd, roach and a solitary silver bream.

Slipping a redworm minus head onto a size 12 and heavier rig, I eventually made the switch across and the response was pretty instant. After a slightly better rudd, the next fish was a proper head shaker in the form of a much better one, a perch this time. Had it been a match I'd have been cursing because I managed to lose the next two, including what felt like quite a beastie. Meanwhile Russ was taken all over the canal by what we guessed was a carp, which actually turned out to be a rocket powered pike of about four pounds that picked up a worm. In fact we'd seen little fish scatter at the surface a few times and not all of these attacks screamed pike. After another top up and another crack at the rudd, the next fish from the sunken tree stayed hooked. A lovely perch of 1lb 14oz proved the best of the day- and just in the nick of time because I had to leg it back to Exeter.

In spite of my late, lucky perch Russ must have had the greater weight of fish, with a silly number of rudd and some better ones that showed later on the bread. I wouldn't put it past him to teach me a similar lesson in the Christmas match:

And on that note I'm really looking forward to a proper winter break, with no deadlines and no place to be on a cold morning. Other than the odd order I've done little fly tying lately, which I must put right. After giving talks to branches of the Fly Dressers Guild on tackling coarse species I definitely have the bit between my teeth. Especially so after seeing the collection of Chris Reeves, which included this rather baroque looking antique pike fly:

Tying is rather like fishing: always a new trick to learn and another direction to try. I am permanently making little notes and snaffling samples when in the company of fly tying enthusiasts. And at least the long, dark winter provides plenty of time to fill a box or two with new creations.

Surviving "Spring"

This week I want to avoid starting with the usual cliches about cold conditions, closed season, blah blah blah, and salute two absolute stalwarts of the fishing scene: the perch and your local tackle shop. Both are an essential part of the sport. They're always there for you, making that fishing trip possible whether the going is good or bloody awful.
In gloomy times it's refreshing to see a tackle shop getting a revamp. The big mail order companies are all well and good for a quick bargain, but where would fishing be without the local tackle dealer? Who knows the latest scoop on your neck of the woods? Who makes sure you have fresh bait? Who gets you the right ticket, puts you onto the fish with that personal touch? Someone on a mail order line 200 miles away? Didn't think so. Which is why it's great news that Cullompton Carp and Coarse has just moved to a new, bigger premesis just off the M5, junction 28. This is also the ideal location for the travelling angler, as it's en route for countless destinations. There are few anglers with a better knowledge of local waters and current form than manager Ian Nadin either, who has worked his wotsits off to transform a bare space into a cracking new shop. Well worth a visit- and for every tenner spent currently you'll also get a free prize draw ticket! More details at: http:www.cullomptoncarpandcoarse.com In fact, I hope for the sake of so many people connected with fishing that 2013 is a settled year. Something as simple as the weather has a huge impact on fishing. Sure, the addicts will always fish. But many, many more people fish only infrequently when the weather is poor. A bit of sunshine and suddenly everything looks more appetising. That bloke walking along the river sees a man fishing and thinks to himself "that looks really relaxing, I could try that." A mild month and suddenly new rods are desired, flies and baits are bought; magazines sell and visitors book local guides. Is that really so surprising? Even the die hards are craving some sunshine and milder climes at this point. But anyway, enough of my rambling and onto the fishing. Yes, it has been icy. Thank goodness therefore for the obliging species like perch and skimmers that play ball on any given day. Not that they get easier to catch- quite the reverse. Hoping to overcome the elements, I had a testing day's fishing on a remote little stillwater with Russ Hilton. Where exactly you set up is the first sticking point. Usually my first option after weeks of biting cold would be deep water- but on this occasion we avoided the deepest bank as it had been totally lashed by virtually two whole weeks of easterly winds. Two calmer spots offered more sheltered water, but would there be enough depth? On plumbing up, we were relieved to find four feet or so, even close to cover. It was to be a day to demonstrate the value of patient feeding and relatively fine presentation. I really mixed the baits up. I based my attack on three lines: a maggot spot, a chopped worm line and a pellet swim. I also mixed up a large bait tub of groundbait (50/50 mix of Bait Factory Bio Bloodworm/ VDE Supercup) which was carefully riddled to remove the lumps. The beauty of a varied menu is that you always have a plan B and C to fall back on. Careful feeding was the watchword. It's tempting to feed and then stop when things don't take off, but I intended to keep trickling bait on three lines. The maggot line worked straight away- but the pellet line to ok ages and my chopped worm swim seemed to be raided by tiny silvers rather than perch. Nevertheless, every 10-15 minutes in went another little ball of groundbait containing two chopped dendrobenas, using the pole cup for accuracy. A similar feed rate was employed for the pellet line, while I flicked 4-5 maggots into the near side every other minute. I was just starting to wonder if anything better would turn up, when a switch to a 6mm pellet produced the first bream of the day- a better skimmer and a proper pull in the elastic: If ever a day illustrated the value of persistent, light feeding, this was it. Russ started hitting into some better perch, including a 2.06 pounder, but neither of us was really flying. Finally however, well over four hours into our feeding regime, the fishery really woke up. I had a solid 3lb bream on the pellet before my next worm fish really took the pole for a dance- other than the fly rod, there really isn't a more exciting way to play tug of war with fish like this 2.03lb perch. Russ was also now storming away, landing a PB perch, but I don't want to steal his thunder (and his "Tales from the Towpath" blog is always worth a read). So, with literally hours of light, regular feeding the machine started paying out. It begs a question really: were these better fish always right there but not in the mood? Or did they begin to patrol once the water warmed up a little in the sun? To really emphasize the point, I then tried a worm on the inside line at last knockings. I had trickled maggots here for literally the whole damned day. Over six hours after that first helping, the float settled and just kept going. The fish plunged hard on a light hollow elastic, heading for some sunken branches initially, before steady pressure took the fight to more open water. I thought this was a good one, but once in the net it looked especially broad and thick. A very respectable 2.12lbs made this a great finish to the day, not to mention a reward for persistence.

Flies in the Thaw

Water levels and temperatures continue to yo-yo, but does the fishing ever get totally desperate? There's usually something to try for, even if it's just to kill an afternoon. I was glad that Norbert Darby dragged me out for a Sunday trip. Signs were mixed. Warming temperatures, but also loads of pike anglers out on the canal, none reporting anything very dramatic.
The water had cleared slightly, but still didn't look that inviting, so I opted for a big perch coloured fly (above), with plenty of presence. To be quite honest, it was nice just to stretch the legs and make a few casts. About half an hour later, as I was sneaking the thing in slow and deep, there was a lovely tap-tap-THUMP! on the end of the line. If there's one thing I love about fly fishing, it's that moment of connection transmitted right through the fingers. After a minute or so playing tug of war on my eight weight, this was either a very spirited jack, or something hefty. The fish that rolled was thick round the middle, and suddenly things felt more urgent. Norbert took some snaps while every dog walker and their beast in the vicinity decided to come an have an ogle- an added presence I rarely enjoy with a lively fish on the unhooking mat! This one went 15lb 4oz, really chunky and beautifully marked too.
Having being trounced by Norbert on our two previous trips, this was also a welcome comeback. "You won't catch anything on the fly" was his earlier piece of gamesmanship. Not that either of us gets pointlessly competitive or anything. It was also reward for recent homework at the vise. Having never know a season quite like it for floods and crappy conditions, my recent flies have been much bigger and bolder than the usual fare. Thank goodness for pike though. Without them, there would be quite a big gap in the fly fishing year. It won't be too long, of course, before other species start to feature with the fly tackle. Clearer rivers would be a start- but judging by the massive growing interest in flyfishing for coarse fish, it could be quite a year. Along with new partner in crime Charlie Hancock, we've launched both a Facebook Group ("Flyfishing for Coarse Fish") and also a Twitter account (@FlyForCoarse). So far the interest has been amazing, with well over 200 followers and members onboard in just one week! There'll be a big competition on the way, and lots of fun stuff to get involved with- watch this space. Better start tying for the spring now! (These are some roach and rudd flies I'm just finishing for a group member): Otherwise, I've also enjoyed some more pole fishing. I hadn't been to Shillingford for ages, but this can be a banker water for cold weather. Provided, that is, you bin the text book swims. All those tempting looking features look great for perch- but when they have two feet of icy water around them, these bits can be pretty dead. The pole lets you test the depth with total accuracy however. Find an area a little further out just a little deeper (sometimes only 2-3 inches more than the surrounding depths) and you're often in business. Despite the remnants of recent snow, a patient approach with regular helpings of caster and chopped worm did the business for a tidy net, with quality roach and several perch to just under two pounds.

Perfect Pond Fishing

There's always something about quiet farm ponds that takes me back to boyhood. It's refreshing to find that off the beaten trail of the better known commercials, cute little backwater fisheries still exist. The sort of diminutive, secluded waters where the next bite could be anything from a pretty roach to a giant perch or golden carp. Flanked by craggy trees and rusting farm machinery, I had a good vibe about this trip. Along with fellow pond hopper Chris Lambert, I was off to a swift start by fishing match style today, feeding a selection of my favourite baits for big perch, roach and carp in the form of casters, chopped worm and pellets. It was hardly a push over, but fishing fine and building the swim carefully the perch soon showed. We didn't see many average sized samples- most were either tiny or absolutely solid. Disaster then struck as I hooked a substantial carp on the pole line. For five or six minutes battle continued before the top two cracked! The fish was gone by the time I regained control- damn it, I have a hunch it was a big fish lost. Sport then continued on the centrepin and long float rod, while Chris began to get interest on tiny fish baits. The next perch gobbled up a worm and caster bait before plunging away strongly. This one was really feisty- and it wasn't short on spirit. We had weighed it quickly at alb 14oz, but to our surprise this one looked even fatter after a couple of hours in the keepnet. We strongly suspect it snaffled one or two of the baby perch, roach and gudgeon also present- and later the same perch went 2lbs 2oz when the weight was checked again! This is the joy of pond fishing on a secluded water. Where stocking levels are sensible, you get some real quality fish. Unexpected specimen of the day was arguably the surprise enormous gudgeon Chris caught. At 3 oz this was a titanic little beastie, not to mention splendid looking. It was a testing day overall, where cute presentation and regular feeding worked best. The last fish was another sweet surprise in the form of a cracking roach. Uncanny how the best always seem to show as the light goes and at 1lb 6oz a very respectable pond roach. A great day on a cute water and for my money, pond fishing takes us back to the simple joys of the sport- the jagging fight of those perch, the warm spring sun on your back.