The Lure of Angling

Since I've begun dedicating much of my fishing time to lure fishing I've found myself spending quite large amounts of non-fishing time perusing lures online. The selection out there is unimaginable and the huge choice has got me thinking that maybe, just maybe, it's a case that the lures have to be designed not just to catch fish but catch anglers too. Take any pattern or design of lure you care to think of and I am sure that in some situation that design will catch fish. Then in most cases the manufacturer will produce said lure in between five and fifteen colours. But if the producer was to extensively test this range of colours in various conditions fairly (I know that's only theoretically possible) I am sure that one or two colours would probably fare badly, thus making them not-so-good-of-a-lure. But still the manufacturer makes, markets and sells them, and why should they do this? Well, because as I said before, anglers are like magpies and sometimes we just want bright things that attract us.

It's because of this theory and the general addictiveness of collecting these lures that I've become very careful of what I purchase. I quite often fill my online basket with lures I think look good and then spend ages reassessing how I think they will work and look in the water before filtering down to things I think will be successful for me. It's important I should say for me as for someone else they might well work. Either way you have to think they will work or there's no point purchasing them or casting them because confidence in what your offering is key.

Just the other day I arrived back at my desk to see a mailite bag sitting on my keyboard and knew exactly what was in it, as I'd been hoping the batch of new lures would arrive in time to take them out on my next session. There were two specific lures in the bag that I already knew were going to come into play on the canals.

The Tiki monkey! I love the name of this lure, and not only did I like the name of it but I liked the six small paddle tails and it's creature-like shape. I reckon it looks quite like a newt or possibly even a crayfish when in the water, but whatever it looked like I am damn sure it would make some serious disturbance. The only thing I had my doubts about was its size. Up until now I've been a little reserved with the size of lure I've been using on the canals, this however falls into a whole larger size bracket.

Once I had it in hand and my nostrils were filled with the scent of fresh rubber and molopo (whatever molopo is) I quickly concluded that I fancied this might make a really good drop shot lure and I was right as well. A few days later I found myself on a regular haunt working a drop shot rigged Tiki monkey slowly along the inside marginal shelf when it got absolutely smashed by a big perch. How chuffed was I to have not only had some interest but landed, for my first fish on this weird and wonderful lure, such a stunning Sargent.

It really was a looker and not the normal shape of perch that have been caught here in the past. Most of the residents I've landed here are short, stocky, football shaped fish whereas this one was longer with a defined hump. Possibly it could have been a male fish as it seemed not to show any signs of having spawned or getting ready to spawn.

Beyond that one decent fish I did get plenty of interest from smaller perch of which one in five attacks of the flailing Tikki monkey resulted in the lure going in a fishes mouth. There's no doubt that this attractive offering works, it's just whether the attacker is big enough to get the whole lot in its mouth.

Only a day later I got a second albeit much shorter session on a new bit of canal. Early morning I made my way down the tow-path of a bit of cut I wouldn't fish a evening session unless I had a loaded AK47 slung over my shoulder. As you can tell it's a bit of a dive and that's made worse by a few old Junker barges being resident. One of which seemed to be leaking fresh diesel into the canal from its listing, rotting hull.

I should go on record and say that I don't per se have anything against boaters apart from they don't really have much respect for anglers and have even less for the water ways, and when I see half a mile of canal with reflective oily swirls all over its surface it really gets up my nose. After walking what seems like miles I did eventually come to some seemingly unpolluted water, which was surprisingly clear... I mean really clear.

My obvious reaction was to go natural with the colour of my lures and use a few favourites including the newly deflowered Tiki monkey, silver Koypto and pumpkin paddler grub, the result of which was nothing for an hour's casting. Honestly I was thinking this new section might not turn out to be as good as I thought it was going to be. Then I remembered a new pack of gaudy Koyptos I had bought and surmised that maybe going to the opposite end of the colour spectrum might work.

The bright orange and black shad looked a little obvious when I tried it in the water and with such good visibility I could see it a foot and half down in the water. So I began working along the stretch casting the bright lure into the far side cover. Three casts in something grabbed at the lure and I struck into a good fish which turned out to be a nice looking zander. Well, it looked nice thrashing under the water before my lure came free. From then on I worked the cover tight and hard.

I'd just sent the lure into a small hole under an overhanging hawthorn when I felt a real thump as it dropped on a tight line. A quick strike and I found myself playing a rather chunky perch that had really engulfed the bright orange shad.

I have figured out a lot about lure fishing during this intense period of doing it and one of the key things I've concluded is that it's ten times harder to get a good hook up on a zander than a perch. Part of this is to do with the zanders preclusion to try to disable the lure/prey by nipping its tail. A lot of the time you feel the hit and strike, then contact no fish and that's when I suspect they're just grabbing the tail of the lure. Other times they really engulf the lure and you strike into the fish, only to have it come adrift in the fight because the hook hasn't really got a good hold in its bony upper mouth. Perch on the other hand, nine times out of ten really have a go at the lure and the hook gets a much better hold in their softer mouth.

This theory really became evident when a bit further down the canal I located a shoal of zander grouped in the middle of the trench. The first fish I hit came all the way to the edge before thrashing around and throwing the hook. A smaller fish was next and that one got hooked in the side of the mouth, but the following one I felt hit and thrash before that too escaped. From then it was all nips on the lure until they had enough of my antagonization. Strangely though after the zander sport died off in that swim I found a shoal of smaller yet very aggressive perch which, given their size, were really having a pop at the orange Koypto right at the end of the retrieve right under my feet, and I had some fun with for my last half and hour on the bank.

The whole zander problem is a bit of a catch-22 two really. Yes, I could solve the problem by using a lure like the new fox drones which trail a small treble underneath. But any lure with a downward facing hook that gets used on the canal has, in my opinion, a very short life span and their use is going to send expenses sky high sooner or later when they get claimed by natural or unnatural snags. Or I could rig in a trailing hook around the tail, but I know from experience that this can effect the lures movement. My solution for now though will be to continue using the lures I am as they seem to be working and to instead use a stiffer rod which I have, whilst trying to adopt a more aggressive reactional strike to try and set the hook.

Sometimes there is nothing worse than having a preconceived idea of how a fishing session will go. Last week I ended my session on the fish. By that I mean I was lure fishing, had located fish and was getting hits even though I wasn't converting them. Time though ran out on me and I had to walk away from fish which were up for attacking what I was offering. So for days prior to getting out all I could think of was getting back and finding that shoal of zander and trying pick up where I'd left off.

I was convinced that they would still be in the area as they seemed to be lingering off the edge of a collection of flotsam pushed into a bend by the wind, and given conditions had been consistent, I was sure it would still be there with the shoal of zander somewhere nearby.

On the tow path again I headed straight for the area and began exactly as I had left off, bouncing a two inch orange koypto shad slowly across the bottom. But the zander it seemed had been replaced by snags. Quite honestly the week before I had not found a single snag in the vicinity, today though every other cast found one. I'd sacrificed two brand new lures and leaders to the canal before I eventually moved off.

After a little explore I found myself fishing right alongside the debris littering the surface on the bend, whilst trying desperately to not stand in any of the hundreds of dog turds that litter the bank. Still though I couldn't raise any attention after two hours had elapsed. By now I'd been through most of my A-team of lures using various speeds of retrieve. The really worrying thing was that last time the little perch had also been up for it and this time like the zander they seemed to be very absent, which seemed to indicate nothing at all was on the hunt.

It was the faithful black curly tail grub which broke the stalemate in the end and found a small zander under the rubbish. That first one came off but a few casts later I snagged its bristling and angry shoal mate.

I really thought that was it and now I had located them it would all kick off, but before it had begun it just fizzled out and I couldn't find another willing fish. So we decided to move on to another stretch a car drive closer to home on the same canal to see if we would fare any better there. The area we arrived at had been very reliable over the colder months and I hoped it would be on this occasion too. In truth, it too was off form and after well and truly thrashing the water to a foam, I was elated to hook a sprightly micro jack which was hanging around just on the marginal shelf.

The next day I was planning to fish the same canal in a different area, but the lack of interest had me thinking that zander and perch were not responding to lures very well at all at the moment. Not wanting to write it off I decided to still go ahead with the session but rather than just commit everything to the lure fishing, I'd take a light dead bait outfit along to see if they might be interested in a static bait rather than a moving lure.

My worries that I wouldn't get much response on the lures were well founded. Once again I worked hard to wring anything out of all the areas I fished, but no matter what changes I made I could not fathom out what it was going to take get these fish to actually lash out at a lure.

On the other hand every swim I cast a dead bait into was populated by something interested in eating the small roach on my line. As with many waterways the signal crayfish seems to be making a big impact on the midland canal network. Undoubtedly their spreading population is contributing to larger fish sizes, but the little beggars are a proper pest when you're dead baiting. Although I was lucky and didn't lose any gear I did have to pry my hook from down a few crayfish burrows throughout the morning.

By midday the sun was out and I had just about had it! I'd been casting and moving constantly since early morning and had nothing at all to show for my efforts. Having travelled so far along the canal I had actually come close to a swim I used to fish many moons ago that had good record for holding perch. Thinking this would be my last chance to break the blank, I decided to fish one last area just in case.

After dropping the dead bait on the far bank to my left I went about working the swim over using a tiny green koypto that has scratched me a few bites in the past. I'd hooked and removed a couple of minor snags and had not long dispatched one of them behind me when my float began moving as if something with claws was dragging it off. I watched it thinking I would have to sort that out before it got dragged away, when the float did a single large bob and the culprit quickly went from crayfish to small zander in my head. I've seen enough little zander picking up baits to think this was definitely one. Crouching down by the rod I waited as the float did that little circular movement they so often down when a schoolie is farting around with the bait. I waited and waited for it to actually run before I struck and then as the float slid off I struck low and hard.

The tightening braided line instantly drove the hook home and the fish shot off. I've had loads of zander do this when hooked; they shoot off in a moment of panic and run about ten feet or so generally in the direction the float was travelling and it's really hard to keep a tight line. This one headed straight towards me on my right hand side. Luckily the reel picked up the line quickly as and the rod bent over. For a moment I was being a bit blase, but then I saw a huge white flash in the murky canal water and the fish went from schoolie to monster.

The bite was awful, fight wasn't epic but my panicking excitement made up for that, especially when the fish came to the surface shaking its head trying its best to discard the hook. It was then it really hit home what I had on the end of my line. With the thoughts of a hundreds zander getting away I was desperate to get this one into the net. With only a fleeting moment of worry when it seemed reluctant to cross the cord, the fish was in the net. Resting in the edge it looked huge from above and then on the bank it seemed even bigger.

It was absolutely fighting fit and perfect in every way apart from the top of it tail being missing. Looking closely, the wound was perfectly healed and looked to be from a boat propeller or possibly an otter attack. Either way it had healed up well and judging from the condition of this magnificent fish, it wasn't effected by the missing bit of tail.

I knew how heavy I thought it was going to be before I even put it on the scales or maybe how heavy I wanted it to be, but it didn't quite make it. It was two ounces off what I so wanted it to be, but was still I very happy with 9.14lb and it truly made walking that little bit extra and giving one last spot a go before chucking in the towel worth it.

Up until about seven months ago all my knowledge of braid was related to how it was used in hook links and I can't really claim to be any kind of expert on that either. Since then though I have pretty much used it exclusively as a main line and in doing so I have really developed an idea of what I want from a braid whilst learning that not all braid is equal.

So far I used a few types of braid and in doing so have concluded that although they all essentially do the same thing, they are not all the same in reality. I began with an older version power pro which unlike the new generation of the same stuff was very noisy when reeled across the rod rings. Next came Jig silk from Fox which I love to use on my finesse outfit but is rather prone to wind knots, and wind knots aren't cheap where braid is concerned. Then I came across a good deal on Savage Gear Finezze HD4 braid on-line. My God, the low diameter of this was unbelievable. Apart from the colour which I bought it in that isn't great, only one thing let it down for me and that's the way it beds into itself when you have to pull out a snag or out of a snag.

I have also spent quite a lot of time examining various other braids to try and find one that's just right and I have not been doing too well with that in truth. That was until I by pure chance found a spool of HTO Rockfish ultra braid in a local tackle shop, Specimen Tackle UK, for the paltry price of £10. I'd heard a lot about how good their LRF rods are and given the great value of this line I thought it would be worth a punt.

With two sessions on the cards on consecutive crappy days I decided it might be interesting to actually fish one with what I was currently using and then in between sessions re-spool with the new stuff to see how it compared on the second session.

So firstly I hit the tow path with the Savage Gear Finezze HD4 and given how windy it was I knew this was going to be a real test. It wasn't easy trying to present a lure well with the wind tugging the line around, but I did manage to find a few fish. Firstly, a small zander grabbed one of my favourite Pumpkin paddler grubs right as I bounced it over the nearside marginal shelf.

That was followed by a second smaller zedlet which I tried to hand out and ended up losing. A lot of canal, a few snags and change to an orange kopyto later, I struck into another a really nice thick set zander tight to a boats hull, which went crazy and thrashed round all over the canal before going in the net.

Three hours on the cut and three fish was actually very good going considering how bad the wind was. The braid performed well, but as I knew would be the case, this line is impossible to see on even the shortest cast in the day's dull conditions and every time I put any pressure onto the line to pull from a snag it would take several casts to un-bed the line. This bedding-in issue I am sure is down to the low diameter and profile of the line, both of which combine to let the tightening coils pull in between any below them that aren't under as much tension.

So at home a few hours later I carefully wound the Savage Gear Finezze HD4 onto a spare spool and re-spooled with the HTO Rockfish ultra braid. Straight away I could see it was thicker as the diameter implied on the packaging, but I could also see the lines profile seemed to flatten on the spool which made it lay better on top of itself.

The fact that this new line is a very bright yellow obviously made it easy to see as I cast a clown cannibal shad into the far bank cover. The jig head never got the lure to the bottom before a micro jack hit and I actually saw the line tighten before I felt the fish, which was great.

It was purely down to fairness that I kind of wanted to find a snag, and as I was on a canal it didn't take long before I was towing a large branch across the canal. The braid was tough as they all seem to be, but instead of bedding into itself it seemed to just lay on top as I hoped it might. Then it only took a single cast to check the line would spill off the spool well on the cast before I was off and fishing again.

The canal in this particular area seems to clear really well overnight and that combined with the bright white cannibal shad, was the perfect combination when I found a shoal of small zander loitering in the trench. By covering the same ten square feet of canal from different angles I kept the eager little hunters coming after the lure. On most casts they were chasing the shad and nipping at it, judging from the pulls on the bright yellow braid. Then when one would make a committed grab a quick strike would send pressure down the new braid and catch the culprit in the lip most times.

It wasn't until the rain started and a trio of rude speeding boaters passed that the sport stalled. Even by changing lures and retrieve I couldn't get any more fish to attack in the now turbid water.

As for the braid I have to say well done to HTO with the Rockfish ultra braid. It performs just as well as all the other braids I have used, but has lays on the spool well, doesn't bed in under pressure and the high visibility not only helps to see what your lure is doing but makes watching hits pure joy. On top of that I never encountered a single wind knot even with the wind in my face all day; all that for only ten quid is a bargain in my books.

I must say that as braid lasts forever I never throw it away. The original power pro I bought I use on a heavy lure outfit for bigger plugs. The Fox Jig silk for all the trouble it gives me remains my favourite braid for super light lure fishing and the Savage Gear Finezze HD4 is being saved for any possible trips to deep reservoirs that might come along in the future, where those super fine braids are key.

'You buy one, you get one free! I say you buy one, you get one free'

Those were the words that kept ringing through my head again and again as I stood on the tow path the other day. And why shouldn't they have been stuck on some torturous loop in my mind, because after all this was a bank holiday weekend, it wasn't raining and the boat wankers were out in force. At some points 'buy one, get one free' was an understatement to say the least. Seven boats in convoy was the record for the day. Honestly that lot coming down the cut was like an armada passing by, all churning up the bottom and blankly wishing good morning whilst inanely asking if I'd caught my supper. If it wasn't for the fact that I was actually having fun catching a few perch and some rather obliging strip zander I feel sure I would have been jumping up and down on the bank shaking my fist and ranting in ancient long forgotten language that they should keep their witty japes regarding my tea to themselves, before I am tempted to shove their barge pole in their rear hatch.

I had always known it was going to get a bit manic with boat traffic and to try and get some done before they started I had arrived just after first light. Weirdly the action prior to the boats beginning to rumble by had been in my opinion, a bit sporadic. All I had managed was a single chunky perch which I had winkled out by dancing a tikki monkey along the nearside shelf on a drop shot rig.

The drop shot rig was partly why I was fishing in this area. You see I had a few new lures I wanted to try out and they all seemed more suited to the drop shot rather than a jigging rig. Given the past few weeks had been a little zander filled and that I have much more success with perch on the drop shot, I had come to a area stuffed full of the critters.

Convinced the margins were paved with the stripy Herbert's I stuck it out on the drop shot, working around any structure I could find. Although I wasn't finding them in numbers, when I did spark any into interest they were absolutely smashing into my lures.

The oddest part of the session came after a couple of boats really stirred up the canal. I have always thought that it actually takes a boat going through to stir the resident fish into moving, and off the back of that I have developed a theory that sometimes when the boats churn up the bottom, zander for one, actually go into the clouds of silt looking for anything that has been disturbed out of the mud, like worms, leeches and small fish. It proved exactly the case when the boats have moved on and I shot my rig right to the far side of the canal before pulling it back into the murk. Four or five small strip zander and a single nice perch fell for a black grub on a slow retrieve through the clouds of silt.

The boats I knew would all too soon begin to wear on my patience, and it was then that I sought a bit of respite and headed for the relative quiet of a small row of moored boats. Working the rig rhythmically as close to their hull as I could, I tempted one final nice perch that I can only say has real potential in the future. Although not much over a pound in weight I don't think I have ever seen a little fish that looked so much like a big fish before and that for me was the perfect point in which to leave the canal to the boaters.

The Oxford canal has perplexed me for a very long time now. The reason being is its general lack of ability to live up to its potential by way of predator sport; when compared with the other local canals which I also fish it comes dead last behind the overrated Ashby, the moody Coventry and the overachieving Grand Union.

I have been unable to come up with a viable theory, never mind reason why it fishes so badly. As canals go it has all the right features in all the right places for it to have some good predator sport somewhere along the tow path. How somewhere that looks so good can fish so badly is beyond me and worst of all is it's actually the most convenient canal geographically for me.

I once again decided to give the Oxford another look. Even though that I suspected it would be as bad as ever I still committed to actually fish not just once, but three times in succession. Over the three visits I must have walked miles and miles of prime looking canal whilst diligently fishing all kinds of areas. Sadly, as per normal, it was normal service and after some twenty five hours of searching all I had to show for my efforts was an unconnected hit, a scrawny zander which got off at the net and three crayfish on the deads.

Really I don't want to leave it at this, but right now the only thing I can possibly think to do is maybe return in the summer or the autumn to see if possibly it's a seasonal canal. Aside from that I needed to recharge my confidence so headed back to the Coventry for my latest session, to a section I discovered a while ago that seems to be very reliable early in the morning when the sediment has had a night to settle and the water is a bit clearer.

In this clearer water the lure that always seems to work for me is the savage gear clown cannibal shad. It shows up really well in visibility of around two feet and it has so much movement in the tail that I can feel the lure vibrating all the way up the braid and through the rod. Once again it worked a treat and three casts in a small zander could not resist grabbing it.

I was over the moon to get into the fish so quickly, as not only was I out to build my confidence back up, but also to put my new rod to the test. Since beginning to do a lot of lure fishing I have quickly figured out what I want from a rod. Finding that rod has been a real test of patience though. I must have actually held in my hands some thirty different rods from just about every manufacturer making them. What I was actually looking for was a lightweight rod that would yield under pressure but still have a relatively fast action. The reason I was after this holy grail of a rod was mainly to do with zander. Perch and pike I have concluded just smash lures as it's generally a case that they either want them or not. Zander though are buggers for chasing, nipping and hitting in various different ways. It was because I felt that I wasn't converting enough hits from zander into fish landed that I felt I needed a rod that would not only transfer any information of the hit back to me, but could also drive home the hook on these renowned hard-to-hook fish.

Eventually after travelling quite a lot and waggling a lot of rods and disregarding some very highly commended rods, Dave from http://www.specimenfishing-uk.com/ contacted me to inform me he had something I might be interested in. The next day I went over and after only a moment holding the Sonik Light tec 1-8gram spinning rod I was sold. Teamed up with a 1000 size reel it felt perfect and it was just unfortunate that my first few outings with it were on an underperforming venue. Now though I was on the right canal, the zeds were on the hunt and it was the perfect place to see what this rod could do.

As I said before the fish were on the hunt in a big way, and straight from the off the cannibal shad was working. Every five casts I seemed to get some interest and after an hour I had eight fish, although there seemed only to be small schoolies of between a few ounces to two and half pounds around. Even though they were small, most were in great condition and very aggressive.

With me catching so many fish it was only a matter of time before something odd turned up. After the bites dried up in one spot I had just moved up the canal to fish the next. My lure hadn't even hit bottom before something grabbed it and sent a sharp tug back up the line. I struck and the fish shot off. It was a normal spirited zander-like fight until the fish rolled and it almost looked black for a moment. At first I wondered if it was something different but then it surfaced again and I saw it was definitely a zander, though it was a bit weird looking. On the bank it soon became apparent that the reason it looked strange was because it had a blue hue all along its underside. Around the mouth it was just a hint of blue but along the body it darkened until right at the tail it was almost navy blue. Honestly I have never seen a zander like it before! I have seen them from that pale white colour they get in muddy water right through dark green, but never blue.

It's not like it was to do with the area as not long after I caught this one which was green and pale white, and that came on literally the same spot.

You can see it looked to have almost normal colouring on the top, but that underside and fins were definitely blue. Although it's not easy to see, the fins were really accentuated by the blue tint and white edges.

Maybe the strange colouration of this fish was something to do with its environment, but surely I would have seen the same thing in other fish. I am thinking that it's more likely either just a genetic anomaly or maybe an infection. I have seen tench with a red speckling that's caused by a bacterial infection. Either way it wasn't making any difference to the fish as it was in good condition, very aggressive a fought like stink.

The sport continued right through the morning and by the time I seemed to have exhausted the area I was fishing I had landed eighteen small zander and lost three at the net, add to that the numerous hits and the two small perch that got in on the action and all in all I had a great morning. I don't really think there is any need to babble on about the new rod. Literally it felt comfortable using it, I wasn't tired after casting it for six hours none stop and the number of zander I caught alone is testament to how good it is. In fact I can't wait to take out after big perch and small pike in the future as I know it will be just as good playing them as it was with the zander.

I knew well before I left that what I intended to do was a risk; who in their right mind heads towards the sea to fish with a light lure rod that weighed little more than four and a half ounces. Probably the same person that thought a suitable back rod would be a drop shot rod instead of a beach caster. As risky as it was, I had actually weighed up the pros and cons of what I was about to do and given that I wouldn't be frequenting the north sea beach heads, I felt I could get away with just a light lure set up for it was the ominously named but attractively boat lined Lake Loathing where I would be fishing.

Everything about the place seemed just right for me to spend any free time I could muster casting light lures around the plethora of tasty looking features that line its banks. Literally, it has every possible feature from skeletal hulls of ancient fishing trawlers right through to giant quays capable of berthing huge tugs. For me it was the nooks, crannies and hidey holes around the various walls that are accessible that drew me.

I have read so much about light rock fishing (LRF) and the associated facets of light lure fishing, that I had almost convinced myself I could make this work in this massive body of brine, even though there are very few rocks to actually fish around. I have seen enough fish in this water to have sufficient confidence to commit to my theory. Not only was I convinced that there were fish present but I was also convinced I had sufficiently attractive micro lures in my lure box that I might well be able to pry out a few matching micro species using them. That's not to say I didn't top up with a few packs of the strangely attractive smelling Marukyu Isome from Agm products before I left.

So tooled up with a back pack full of lures and with nothing more than my now trusty Sonik Light tec rod in hand, I headed out to cement my place light lure fishing on the perilous cliffs faces of east Anglia. The water was clear, and perched atop a wall I could see the bottom with the aid of my Polaroids. I won't lie and say I wasn't a bit unsure on how to start, but close by and in sight seemed to make sense. After diligently working a drop shot rigged section of Isome along at least fifty feet of wall with nothing more than a tiny little fish shooting out to look a my lure, I concluded to start casting tight to some of the features a little further out to try and get a pull. First retrieve and I was sure as shit is brown, something grabbed my lure. Over keen I cast again to the same spot and got the same reaction but no hook up. I slowed my retrieve next to see if it was a bit of time the culprit needed, but still no proper hit. It took me a few more casts before I spotted it following the lure before tailing off back to the cover. Next cast I drew them up in the water and got a good view of ten or more darting little fish, rather enamoured by the rhythmic movement of the Isome but were unable to get it in their mouth. It must have taken twenty more casts with an ever decreasing sized pieces of lure before I finally hooked one out.

I wasn't exactly sure of what it was at first but after examining the delicate protruding mouth I concluded it had to be a smelt. They seemed to be lingering around any available cover, probably for their own safety in truth. But something I learnt about salt water species a long time ago is that they are all pretty much predators. Straight away I began focusing on working small sections of lure tight under or around any cover I could access and the results were intriguing. After only moments of the lead making bottom a few swift jerks of the rod would draw in a shoal of smelts and then the aggressive little munchers would dart in flashing and nipping at the lure.

My hooking rate was very poor to start with, but after rummaging around in my back pack I found a spool of 4lb fluorocarbon and a packet of size 14 Drennan paste hooks. With my new set up I was banging out smelt like a Trent trotter bagged silvers back in the day. By the time I had caught enough savage little smelts to start a Spanish restaurant I realized that not only was the entirety of this lake paved with smelt, but also that it was going to be impossible to get through them to any other fish.

Next time out I had thought hard about the smelts and concluded to scale up rigs so as to hopefully discriminate against them. Interestingly I actually kept the rig to compare with my new scaled up drop shot rig. Everything went up in size so as to keep the rig balanced and even though I have shown the weights right under the hooks, both rigs were actually fished at between six and ten inches off the bottom.

Next I began targeting slightly more open water. In truth I was looking for any species other than smelt, although I had no idea what might be lurking around. Eventually I got free of the silver savages, but now I was getting literally no bites at all. That was until I cast alongside a fenced off old jetty. Half way through a slow retrieve of a small Hart 2 ball worm I thought I hooked a snag. That was until it powered off to the left! Whatever I had hooked was powerful and on my light lure outfit it felt massive. After really giving me a run around proving how much fun catching sea fish can be on light gear, my first ever drop shot caught flounder came fighting all the way to the surface.

After a modicum of success I was galvanised to travel up and fish a nice looking area of harbor alongside the local ASDA store. I was really confident that being as close to the sea as I was that the pilings would be racked out with all the common culprits like pouting and whiting. Even hitting it perfectly on hide tide and the slack water I got little more interest from the fish than one slight shuddering hit. On land though my presence had been noted by a different sort of predator. This time it was the plump day glow coated security type who informed me that I was on private property and politely informed me to sling my hook.

Back crawling into every spot I could to cast a lure I did my best to avoid the smelts. Every now and again it was good to get one just to boost my confidence, but the reality is that they are terminally stupid and go belly up very easily when caught, and feeding the seagulls on my catch is not something I find enjoyable.

Eventually whilst fishing a harbor within a harbor I hooked a second better sized flounder whilst casting a bigger rig around and juddering a full Isome over a muddy bank just beyond a bed of bladder wrack, using my Spro drop shot rod.

These flatties fight so hard on this light gear that I can honestly say that even though I have had loads of them in the past fishing from the beach on heavy gear I have never truly appreciated how hard fighting a species they are. The way they hit the lure is amazing; if they see it and want it then there is no two ways about it, it's going in that strange sideways on mouth. The only disappointing thing I can say it that I couldn't find more of them during my time casting into the brine.

It didn't end there though! On my final outing to Lake Loathing I arrived at high tide expecting to see clear water only to find the lake in one area very coloured up. In the back of my mind I had been thinking, why I had not seen any bigger predators mooching around after these smelts. The moment I saw the coloured water I suspected something was afoot. Tentatively working a rig around I scanned the water for any signs of movement. When I looked down towards my rig I watched open mouthed as a bass of two or three pounds causally cruised by. It took only the slightest bit of notice of my worm before melting away into the coloured water. In a panic and flapping I searched my back pack for anything that looked like a smelt and luckily came up with a three inch long shallow diving plug which was soon hanging from my line as I scanned the water for fish.

Eventually they showed twice as far out as I could cast in a shallow bay chasing smelts out of the water. In absolute agony I watched as the moved round the water consistently out of range until they just stopped surfacing; I had a feeling I knew where they might pop out again and I immediately headed to a spot where I might be able to steal a cast at them. I was ten feet above the water scanning the area where I thought they might come into the second bay, but I couldn't see a thing. I was about to go back to the first spot when I looked down and a shoal of sprats moved like a cloud beneath my feet and three good sized bass charged into the cloud. The whole scene moved to my right, I cast in front of them and reeled the small silver plug wobbling under the water towards them. The bass never gave the lure a second look as it passed by them. The smelts soon disappeared and so did the bass. As for me I worked the whole area ragged with that plug hoping that one of those bass might have gone after it but it was to no avail. That was it, my briney light lure adventure was over in a crescendo of failure. I had seen the ultimate UK sport fish hunting and had a chance to try and catch one but it turned out on this occasion there was no substitute for the real thing.

As for whether I would take my light lure gear to the coast again that is a no brainer. A couple of flounder a bucket load of smelt sand a single shot after some bass is a successful first lure fishing trip to the sea as far as I am concerned, and you never know what species will be around later in the year.

I have this feeling that I could settle down very well and be quite happy by the sea. I even suspect I could give in to the salt water and forget about freshwater fishing. Hence I was eager to get quickly back onto the canals rather than mooning around wishing I was still by the sea. Less than twenty four hours after being back as far away from the sea as you can get, I was walking the tow path of the Coventry wondering which of its many moods it might be in on this occasion.

In truth, with it being a bank holiday weekend once again the water was pretty much the same colour of Willy Wonkers chocolate river from the 1971 Gene Wilder film. I got my hopes up that it would fish well after an early hit from a small zander, but three hours later I was fish free and desperate. I could attribute the poor show to anything from water clarity to copious boat traffic, but I had this niggling thought that it was just one of those off days when the Coventry is as moody as a common garden teenager.

As the Coventry has a habit of being a bit like this I'd had the forethought to bring along a tub of lob worms I had been nursing for a few weeks. Some days fake bait or the way I am fishing fake bait just fails to do the job. Wiggling the worm on a drop shot rig though seems to be able to conjure up the goods when all else fails. I suspect that even though it maybe an unnatural movement the worm is doing, the natural sight of it combined with any scents released seems most of the time to get one over on even the wariest predators.

So there I found myself, working a drop shot rigged worm along the margins of the Coventry canal in a figure of eight motion as I covered the entire distance right back to the car at a snail's pace. I'd only walked ten or so feet when I got a pluck, probably from a small perch. Then after covering the water again I got hit again and this time I stuck into the fish sending it firing off like a bullet. It wasn't big and after an initial surge it turned round and came right in close. A flash of silver and it was a zander, until it gave up and came in where it quickly turned into a skimmer. This wouldn't have been the first skimmer I'd had on the drop shot, but it was the first silver bream I 'd had on it! Over sized eye, peachy fins and bigger scales than a skimmer. It was definitely a silver bream and quite possibly a world first on the drop shot rig to boot.

Less than half a day later after calling it on a dismal return I was on the same canal only in a different county. Turned out a night of no boats had increased the visibility from a few inches to a mere half a foot, but that was enough to get the zander on the move and hunting. Quite quickly I located a shoal of fish holding just inside the far margin shelf against some new reed shoots and the highly visible cannibal shad went about doing what it does best and luring them into attacking mode.

They weren't big, but as always what they lacked in size they made up in number. There were loads of vicious little zander holding all along the cover ready to attack. Although the sport I had on this occasion and many others is both enjoyable and rewarding, the small matter of average size has crept into my head. In short, where the hell are all the bigger fish hiding? Earlier in the year I had a few nice sized fish, but of late they don't seem to be showing at all. Whether it's just a natural bloom in the little ones or that the bigger fish aren't interested in going after the lure I am not sure. What I do know is every canal I seem to go to lately is riddled with zander from six ounces to two pounds.

I know it bodes really well for the future as the recruitment in the last few year classes of zander has been phenomenal from what I have seen. Barring any disasters the Midlands canal network could well see a golden age in zander fishing in five years time. For now though I think I either need to increase the size of lure I am fishing to try and deter some of the smaller or fish or possibly try to fish off the edge of such concentrations to try and locate any big old girls hunting the little ones. For now though I think looking to some old haunts that have in the past thrown up some great fish might be a suitable solution for me. If some of those fish have survived they could be very serious zander by now.

What I thought I would see when I turned my head I could not possibly think. Only moments ago the quiet tranquility had been shattered by the single loudest splash I have heard on a canal. Part of me wanted to turn and witness a possible second jump from a wild giant golden carp. Another part of me didn't want to turn my head at all as the splash sounded big enough to be human and as I didn't fancy wading into the canal to try fish anyone out. Knowing my luck as well it was more likely the latter and given there were no walkers or boats around god only knows what had happened.

In the end I forced myself to look just in case I had to do my good Samaritan bit, but all I could see was waves emanating from the opposite bank a few hundred feet away, where it looked like someone had just chucked in a paving slab. Scanning the water I finally spotted a wake of something moving across the canal, what caused it though wasn't clear. Then after pinpointing the beginning of the wake I saw a brown head and instantly I concluded some stupid dog had dived in for some reason only known to stupid dogs. Now I could see me having to go down and try and help some soaking wet writhing dog up over the metal pilings that line this section of canal, as I have seen Jeff have to do every time Moll goes diving in after a coconut or something.

Walking closer my wet dog theory got blown out of the water as the wake turned towards me and I sighted what looked like female Muntjac deer powering along the canal. Any ideas of helping this thing out of the canal were shelved as I didn't fancy getting my teeth kicked in trying to be a Good Samaritan.

Instead I kept my eye on it as it swam down the canal till it came to a spot where the piling ended and the soaking doe could scramble up the muddy bank. Where the little deer came from was a bit of a mystery as this new bit of the Coventry canal I was fishing is right on the edge of an urban area. Given that the deer had jumped in on the side it had only meant it had actually come out of the housing estate. Mind you saying that I know the housing estate in question and given a choice between being stuck in there or jumping in the canal I know which I'd choose.

As I mentioned before it was a new or should I say newish bit of canal I was fishing. The last couple of weeks I've been checking out some new areas which as far as I can see are a bit under the radar. The section that for me will forever be known as the deer jump section is an odd one. It is quite a long walk away from any access point and for my part I have walked in from both directions and never quite got on either occasion to this bit. The fishing when I arrived was OK. Not knowing anything I was just trying to locate fish and after finding only two micro zander after fishing a large chunk of it I was thinking I wouldn't be coming back. That was until I fished under a couple of acorn trees hanging over my own bank. The first one I got absolutely turned over by a pike which grabbed an orange koypto in the edge and proceeded to shoot across the canal and bite through the leader. The shadows of the second tree were in feasted with small perch which were a sucker for a two inch curly tail grub being dobbed along the marginal shelf.

A few nights earlier I had done a short evening session on the Oxford on a new spot with some interesting results. With the temps high the surface was buzzing with insects and looking down the stretch I soon spotted lots of small fish lipping and topping. It wasn't hard to surmise the predators wouldn't be far away, which they weren't. A few small zander and perch is enough to give me confidence in the stretch and get me to return again.

Towards the end of the session I found the ever present mega snag with claimed lure leader and hook. I nearly went home at this point but I couldn't waste even ten minutes of light so I rigged up again just in case. Most of the water I had fished had been unusually deep but just as I came into a shallower bit something really smashed into the big wave curly tail I was retrieving. It turned out to be a really nice perch of well over a pound that was hunting in the half light.

Now I feel I have to eat my words, as only the other week I saying how bad I thought the fishing was on the Oxford and now here I am saying that actually there does seem to be a few nice fish about. My only defence is that I think the temperature has played a key role round these parts. Up until now it has seemed quite lifeless, but now I am seeing more and more activity as the temperature rises. Hopefully this might mean that the Oxford round here is more a summer and autumn target rather than a winter or spring one.

The highlight of my session was surprisingly not a fish or anything to do with a fish! On the day when I caught a huge zander a few months ago I got a momentary view of a rare little creature. I'd forgotten all about it in the fuss of the big zed, but what I saw on the Oxford reminded me of it.

Not long into the session I thought I saw something swimming across the canal. The first one I couldn't get a clear view of and the second wasn't much better. The third though seemed quite comfortable with me watching it. Turns out the more time you spend on the canals the more you see and on this occasion I spotted four different water voles busily working along several large reed beds along this new section.

Before anyone says it they were definitely water voles and not rats, as rats swim quicker through the water and have a pointy snout, whereas as the buoyant water vole has no need to swim quickly to prevent itself from sinking as it floats like a cork high in the water and has a blunt snout.

I will certainly be returning to both deer jump and vole city as both of them seem to have oodles of potential for pretty much all species and given enough time over different conditions I reckon one or both might well throw up nice fishy surprises.

It always amazes me how quickly the countryside colours change in the warmer months. Through winter it always looks similar and even in differing light the fields and such are really just different shades of the same faded yellows and brown for months on end. In the summer though you can turn your back and look again to see the same vista looking totally anew.

In two weeks the land that surrounded the vole city stretch of the Oxford canal was nothing more than the new fresh green summer green. Now though as I stumbled along the bank, the waterway was flanked by meadows raging with so many butter cups that the horses walking among them looked like characters from a Doctor Zeus cartoon.

If that wasn't enough, the field opposite had turned from Warwickshire mud red with a hint of green into the dream scene from Ridley Scott's Gladiator. I half expected to see Russell Crowe walking wistfully amongst it fingling the wheat sheaves as he went.

Really I wanted to have returned before now, but nine days ago whilst putting out the bin I twisted in a odd way and something in my back went pop. Ever since then I have been delicately trying to rehabilitate myself from feeling like my top and bottom half of my body were not attached correctly to being able to hobble more than thirty feet in one go.

With only minimal recovery time off work and one very sedate session where I fished within eye shot of the bridge where my car was parked in a stance not that dissimilar to someone who had had an accident in their underpants, I now felt ready to return again.

We all take walking for granted if you ask me and walking on an uneven tow-path with any element of a bad back basically wheedles out any weakness in your body, trust me. The previously mentioned session I barely got anywhere, and even with four more days of recovery I had only walked a very short way before my altered gate began to tell on my right hip.

Trying to forget any discomfort, I went about casting methodically along the reed lined bank trying to locate any predators lurking along the camouflaging reeds. I have to admit that I was under the impression that with the summers arrival the predatory fish would become vicious weapons of mass consumption and that they would be crawling up my line. The truth I am finding is not quite what I thought it would be! In fact although I do believe the fish are more aggressive, they firstly have more actual prey to become preoccupied with and secondly seem to be quite spread out on the canals. All of which adds up to summer lure fishing on the canal possibly being harder than winter fishing as far see at the moment. Maybe it will get easier as the time passes or maybe it's a case of tuning in to summer feeding fishes habits.

Whatever the reason for the current state of the fishing I was in no doubt after an hour of casting that I wasn't doing something right, so quickly tied up a drop shot rig and began dobbing the ever reliable Wave tikki monkey along the near side margin and finally got a result by way of a chunky hard fighting perch.

With the dusk approaching I left vole city and headed down to the spot where I had hobbled to a few days earlier. Although on that occasion I had fallen foul of the blank I did see at least three attacks on what looked like small roach that were taking something of the surface. I knew there were predators present and I hoped that arriving just before the witching hour would let me get the best of the area.

It took some time to come good, but in the furious hour after the sun sank beyond the horizon the small zander of which all the canals seem rife with came out to play. There seemed to be a shoal marauding around the area as every one of the four micro zander I landed and the one I lost were all within an inch of each other in length. The only lure that seemed to interest them was a three inch AGM black curly tail grub, which I suspect was showing up quite well against the clear sky as I bounced it across the bottom. Another hard fighting perch took a fancy to the grub just as I was about lift the lure to cast again and really gave me some stick on the light gear.

It was great to get out on the bank again and somewhere in the melee of action at dusk I actually for the first time in a while forgot about my niggling back. Now I am somewhere near full fitness I need to get back on it, as I have few venues I want to visit before the season opens again and my quickly dwindling time becomes even more stretched.

Something I have come to realise about lure fishing is that is not as easy as some people would have you believe. It is often billed as a simple and fun method where you simply rock up at a bit of water and start firing your brand new lure around and massive predators crawl up your line. In response to that I wonder how many not very old lure outfits end up forgotten under a pile of other rods after their owner has concluded that "they ain't no preds in my local bit of cut, otters probably et em all" and this why I am sure that a lot of the lure rods sold in the last few years are probably state of the art garden canes right now..

Like all aspects of angling the most vital weapon in your arsenal is knowledge, be it learnt or gathered. This is something I have been spending a bit of time on myself lately. Firstly by going to few new stretches, having a go and taking the outcome on the nose be it good or bad, and secondly going back to old venues where I know there used to be good fish and plying my new methods there.

It was on an old venue where I met Mick off of Piscatorial Quagswagging. We had been had trying to get together for a session for a little while to go to a bit of cut which I hold in very high esteem. The bit of canal in question through what I suspect is largely neglect, grows most species quite large and as yet had only received minimal attention on my part with regards to lure fishing.

At first I thought it was going to be a real go'er when whilst waiting for Mick to arrive I had a quick chuck under the bridge near the car park and hooked a nice looking perch first run through with a brown paddler grub. After that I got even more attention working the lure close the concrete edges of the bridge. Beyond that though the sport was a little less than spectacular as we worked our way along the canal. Usual hot spots seemed either devoid of fish or their occupants were reluctant to have a go.

We fished a few different spots before we finally got some interest. The first fish to show was a small zander which found the dead bait I was fishing right in the centre of the channel on my sleeper rod. Then a short while later a second slightly bigger small zander lashed out at my savage gear clown cannibal shad as I hopped up the marginal shelf.

The highlight of the morning came a little later when I received the single hardest hit I have ever had on a lure. Not long after changing over to a 3" white curly tail grub I got the almighty smack as the lure passed the half way point of the canal. It was one of those hits when there seems to be no time between the first moment when you realise something has taken the lure and the rod being bent double, clutch screaming.

Honestly I thought I had latched into a big pike that was soon going to give me a right old turning over, but with the rod bent low I realised this was not the immovable force I first thought it was. Yes, the fish was giving me some stick but it certainly wasn't a massive weight. Then all too soon a familiar sensation came vibrating up the rod and I realised what it might be. Moments later it surfaced and I was proved right! It was an eel and my lure was hanging out its mouth, bold as brass.

This wasn't the end of it as the eel soon dived again and found a snag on the bottom to curl around. Steady resistance put pay to that escape. The second time it dived though I could feel it writhing back up the line as all little eels do and that's when the fight changed. By now Mick was ready with his net (thanks Mick for taking that slimy net).As it went in the net it looked a bit odd and we saw why the fight had changed. The little sod had only managed to unhook itself as it rolled around the snag and in doing so do had forced the hook into its own tail.

I don't think I have ever been so happy to catch a little eel before. But happy as I was with the capture, I wasn't about to get in a right old state trying to get a picture of me and it together so instead opted for a sedate net shot.

Mick though had other ideas and inclined me to make a tit of myself trying to wrangle an angry slimy eel for a couple of trophy shots. I have a bit of form in regards to hilarious eel photos and these ones didn't disappoint. So here I am totally owning the eel trophy shot and showing exactly how to be the boss of eel handling.

The reason though that I am so chuffed with this capture is that it adds another species to the list of fish I have had on a lure this year. Along with all the normal suspects like pike, perch and zander, I have also had bream, chub, roach, flounder, smelt and now an eel. Although not set in stone this is kind of developing in a bit of a personal challenge to see how many species I can rack up before the end of the year. I reckon all I need to do is put the lures in the right places and I think I could provoke some very interesting battles.

Although I will be back very soon I fancied a bit of last huzzah on the canal. It's the opening of the season which inclined me toward one. With time constricting on me quickly with a baby due in four weeks time, I really want to dedicate some of my valuable time to a few lakes and rivers which I want to fish before junior pops out. I suppose it's a bit like that saying of you don't know what you've got till it's gone in a way, but I know what I have got and also know it will be gone or at least hampered quite soon.

If someone said to me I could only fish one last time on a canal before I die, I would chose my secret squirrel hole on the grand union. The big perch seem to have dropped in numbers a bit or maybe they've become clued up or quite possibly they have just moved on. Whatever has happened it is still as far as I am concerned the best canal fishing I know round these parts and I really thought that given I was taking a load of fresh Canadian lob worms and a float rod I stood a good chance of getting into those big perch.

As this blog has pretty much been all lure fishing lately, my change of tactic might seem a little strange. First I suppose I should say that part of my inclination towards lures was born out of the impending arrival in few weeks. My theory is that should any opportunities arise to get out once junior is here, having a simply light bait free set-up ready to go might mean I could be out fishing rather than trying to figure out bait. The other main reason is that as I have discovered since really getting into it, is that it's fun! Though this still doesn't explain why I, as a newly converted lure chucker, was going fishing with a pot rammed full of massive worms.

Well in truth I am developing a distinct feeling that the canal fish aren't feeling that aggressive towards lures right now. I reckon that there's a good chance that with the glut of warm weather there's loads on the menu and unlike the colder months they can frankly eat what they want. Though this was my main angle on this angling session, there also always remains the idea that the big roach might show and they have in the past been a sucker for a lob worm or half. Saying all this that doesn't mean I didn't take a lure rod along with me to the canal just in case and I was lucky I did!

Dug in the tow path way before the boaters began moving, my float settled just over the nearside marginal shelf with the worm settling just right, two inches over depth. A few lob worms were broken up and flicked in to sink to the bottom and serve as subtle yet positive attractors to what I hoped might be patrolling the drop off.

The early part of the morning really turned out to be a real numbers game. I was getting regular attention, but with the sort ungrateful attitude that would make a canal match angler sick with anger, they were all the wrong bloody fish. Turns out my few broken lobs were enough to hold a shoal of skimmer bream for well over forty minutes, in which time I landed no less than eight of them between 10oz and 2lb along with a load of small perch.

Finally I kissed enough frogs and something a bit special showed up. My strike was met by neither inane flopping of a bream or the powering around of a perch, but instead a dogged vibration of a big roach came juddering up the line. Soon enough I slipped the net under a pristine canal roach which looked closer to two pounds than one.

Even after catching such an amazing roach I was still a little perplexed on the whereabouts of the bigger Sergeant's. I had landed quite few up to half a pound, along with the odd near pounder thrown in the mix, but as yet the big ones were certainly rather absent. The boats on the other hand were really getting going and becoming a regular little convoy. Knowing my session would soon be cut short I moved over to the trusty lure rod to see if that could spark them into action.

After trying a variety of small jigs and all of my first choice lures I surmised maybe a bold statement was needed. I often get a bit like this when no smaller lures seem to work and end up coming to the conclusion that I need be at the total opposite end of the spectrum and fish something big.

On this occasion I opted for a three inch AGM crayfish lure that when fished by bouncing back in tiny little hops looks exactly like a scared cray trying to escape. It wasn't until I ran it right alongside the spot where I had been depositing the broken worms that I got some interest. At first I thought I detected a bit of pluck and in response slowed the retrieve and increased the pause in between movements. Sure enough only moments later I never felt the jig hit bottom and instinctively struck thinking I might be in. It was definitely a perch and it was definitely going mental.

These summer perch are long, lean and fight three times harder than they do in the winter. Even living in summer canal that has the clarity of a cup of horlicks it still retained some quite vivid colours. What made this even better and a fitting last fish for this huzzah session was catching on a crayfish lure, especially as I suspect that the crayfish have a lot to do with this sudden increase of perch size on the Midlands canals.

Just lately I've been a little more reserved when out fishing. Previously I would charge forth into the dark, desperate to get on a particular swim to execute my preconceived plan. Now I am in no doubt that this gung-ho attitude has paid me back in spades, but I am also sure that in doing so I have passed a million roses I should have stopped to smell, if you get what I mean. Maybe it's an impending change in my life that has done it, but I have inadvertently begun to appreciate things a little more lately.

This 16th for example was far more sedate than normal and certainly ended up being a little more satisfying than its predecessors. Though I must say that having an entire estate lake to myself might well have added to my Zen-like state as I ambled leisurely along its banks and wandered through its wood pondering a cast here or there.

I've never seen this particular lake in its full June glory and I must admit it was a total shock. Through the autumn and winter the lake itself seems practically barren against the outlandish Gothic back drop. Now though in the summer, the lily festooned pool makes the Capability Brown bridge seem almost dowdy and no angler in their right mind could focus on the stone work, when from beyond peeps siren like lily pads floating on what must be fish laden water.

Even in my relaxed state there was still bit of a fly in my ointment, by way of the poor clarity of this normally gin clear water. The previous weeks deluge had filled the stream that fed the lake full of mucky water and I had the distinct feeling that this would prove detrimental to pulling a few lures around, as the pike in this pool are definitely sight hunters. Even with enough time for the rivers and the stream that feeds this pool to clear, the main body of the lake was stained by the murk suspended in the water. Maybe a week or two later it would have cleared, but for this June 16th at least it would seem I was going to have to make do. But! Saying that it's not that hard to make do with a place like this.

Initially I did actually sit for a while under the leaves of an acorn tree and cast a worm alongside a small patch of lily pads where I'd seen what I was convinced were tench bubbles rising. Two bream and nice roach later, the early cloud had burnt away and with it any chance of hooking a virgin tench. Not long later I sat on a bench which gives an impressive vista of the water and pondered...

I was not in a rush and not inclined to frantically chase after anything, so instead I sat and watched. With little more than birds and trees to distract me I watched the water and quickly what was going in the muddy water became clear. Directly in front of me a small predator, either a tiny jack or angry perch was chasing fry in the shallows. Towards the centre of the lake a huge shoal of rudd or roach lipped away at the surface, scattering every time the shadow of a bird passed over. Up at the place where river entered the lake and ran clearer I could see fish scattering every now and again, indicating that pike were held up there and that was probably where I should fish. Time and time again the fish broke the surface, scattering out of the water to try and escape. I must have watched from up the lake for ages before my trance was broken by the wondrous sight of a huge forgotten golden carp leaping from the water. I knew there was carp in this pool, but never suspected them to grow quite so large given its shallow depth.

I stalked round trying to spot that carp in the muddy water, but the lack of visibility hid it very well. In the end I found myself peering into the pads at the top of the lake where loads of pike were hanging under the pads in the shade. First cast with a small silver diving plug and the water erupted as a jack swiped at the lure, missing by inches. Next cast got hit by a different fish which barely weighed more than the lure. After combing around a bit I got a savage hit just as the lure wiggled by a small weed bed. This fish though only a little bigger, went mental, clearing the entire swim of fish as it did.

I suppose it might sound odd, but at this point I walked away, and by walked away I mean, I went home. Previously on the first day of the season I've been out before sun up and home after sun down and truthfully I have felt burnt out by lunch time. Not on this occasion though! After stopping off to have a look at the river at a few stretches on the way back I went home had a civilized meal, shower and hung out with JB until the sun got low in the sky. Refreshed mentally and physically I then spent the rest of the day catching loads perch on the Oxford canal just to fill my soul with even more first day joy. And as if to end the day on a perfect note a big old Sargent snatched my chartreuse paddler grub as it dropped back to bottom on what was to be my last cast of the first day.

The river had been calling to me since I'd had a wander along it three days prior. Having not made any major commitments to any expensive tickets or sneaky clubs which charge day ticket fees atop their membership I wanted to get a good value club book that would give me the options of a few bits of river conducive to how I am fishing right now. After deliberating all the pros and cons of the local clubs the obvious choice came out as Warwick & District angling society. They have a few different waters that I liked the look of and at £17 it is a bargain. I have been in and out of this club several times and I know the waters quite well, but this was going to be the first time that most of my time would be dedicated to lure fishing on their waters, so I hoped I hadn't made a bad decision.

My arrival at the river coincided with that most classical summer day accompaniments, a torrential down pour. After lingering in the car until the steamy windows began to draw the wrong sort of attention, I eventually and might say begrudgingly, donned my pack away water proof smock. Mix in the unbreathable nature of my water proof top with the near 20c temp, add a already warm man and you have a recipe for some serious sweating. When I eventually hit the path down to the river and got out of the wind the temperature seemed to soar even further. It was so hot and sticky that I half expected Bear Grylls to come hacking his way out of the cowslips with a film crew in tow and a dead otter hanging on his belt looking for fire wood.

Running water until this point has remained the one place I hadn't really put any time into fishing lures on, so this was pretty much virgin territory for me and because of this I opted to begin with exactly what was working for me on the canals. Bar some fine tuning of the jig weight to cope with the greater depths and flow, the only difference in my set up was the leader, which was a scaled up version of the fluorocarbon leader I use on the canal. Previously I was an avid wire trace user, but since I adopted the European favored fluorocarbon approach I have seen the heavier versions are more than capable of dealing with pikes sharp teeth whilst still being incognito enough to fool wary perch. Saying this, on some waters where the pike action is fast and furious I still use wire traces as they take more wear and tear.

I was actually very excited as I stood on the bank and fired the lure across the flow. Keeping the line taught I felt it all the way to the bottom which was quite easily seven or more feet. As I do on any water I fish with lures, I covered each area I fished carefully and in doing so began to mentally map out the underwater topography.

From the first few areas all I managed to incite was two half hearted follows, but once I dropped below a small brook which was pumping dirty water into the river the action really sparked off. Quite a lot of fish were concentrated in the dirtier water and as always prey fish meant predators. Straight away my mini red head fox pro zander shad tempted a rather animated jack pike.

Once that first fish was recovered and released the fishing just got better and better. The lure colour in the slightly discoloured water was definitely white. Having only a couple of the red head pro shads with me and the first one ended up getting torn to bits very quickly so, I soon reverted to the savage gear clown cannibal which I always carry loads of in my bag. This too seemed irresistible to the hoards of jacks spread all over the river.

In a little over three hours of hectic action I had multiple hits, lost four and landed no less than nine really aggressive summer pike. The catches were topped off by this slightly bigger one which on my 1-10 gram outfit gave me a right old run around. It put on a proper show at the net by tail walking and doing some impressive jumps before giving in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Every so often one of those moments comes along when you know you have just hooked and lost a true Leviathan. Unfortunately in most cases it ends much the same way, with some bewildered angler staring at a seemingly unending oily swirl on the water caused by the last swish of the escapee's tail, before turning agog to his infernal rod which is obviously to blame for the inexplicable loss. It's hard to put into words exactly how it feels at that moment, though most of us utter few effs and jeff's at the time to ease the transition, the reality is that once the anger has subsided it's quite a hollow feeling, like this was your one and only chance to see and hold something amazing, and you lost it before you even set eyes on it. The unseen nature of these encounters makes them even worse because inevitably the human mind has this knack for filling in spaces and when the average angler has a space to fill, they obviously do it with something three times the size of what it actually probably was.

It by now should be pretty damn obvious where I am going with this, and even though it's clicked, I know everyone likes a yarn about the one that got away so I won't stop here...

It was a pretty normal bright summer morning on the Avon. The sun was beginning to peep through the clouds and the clock was begging to tick on how long I had left on the river before a armada of rowers, day boats and swan masted pedalos beat me into submission and forced me off the river.

Through the morning I had leisurely made my way up river casting heavily weighted soft lures into the deep centre channel of the river, rhythmically retrieving them along the bottom and up the margins into the weed line. My efforts hadn't gone unrewarded and a few sprightly jacks had lashed out at the savage gear soft 4 play roach as it neared the cover.

The entire river was alive with life and I was quite surprised to see a grass snake also hunting along the edge of the river in such a populated area. I watched the little reptile work its way all along my bank peering under the lily pads looking for unsuspecting prey before it tasted the air and detected another larger predator, then crossed the river to continue its hunt in peace.

Not long after losing sight of the little snake I moved into a nice open looking swim that was lined on both sides by matching beds of lily pads. It looked the perfect place for a hunting pike to be holding up ready to attack any passing prey fish that were unaware of the danger looming in the shadows.

After first just bouncing a small orange koypto around under my feet to check for any lingering predators, I cast and covered both obvious haunts. After this I began carefully covering every cast in the swim with a soft 4 play roach, bouncing it up in a random rhythm whilst moving the rod tip from left to right causing it to change direction under water.

As I was retrieving the lure I spotted a large patch of fishy looking bubbles rising up from the margin down to my left. Quite unaware that I was doing so I pulled my lure towards the bubbles. When I saw the lure was on course for the bubbles I switched sides to circumvent them just in case. The lure passed within maybe two feet of the bubbles and literally when I was in line with them ,the rod locked up.

The line was literally solid and my natural assumption was that I had just found a good old fashioned stick fish and that I was about to be parted from my lure. It was then that I got the shock of my life when the line started moving from side to side as if something was shaking its head. My natural reaction then was to give the rod a couple of hard strikes to bed home the hook in any possible hard mouth. The striking only served to antagonize the beast whereupon it shot off sending my little reel from silent to screaming in an instant.

For once though it wasn't one of those times when I was vastly under gunned to fight such a monster, as although the set up might outwardly look a little flimsy, the seven foot rod was rated to chuck lures up to 38 grams, the braid on the reel had a 12lb breaking strain and the fluorocarbon leader at 25lb would take the strain of practically any river fish.

Really and truthfully I felt in control of the situation from the off and although the still unseen monster was giving me some real stick, I felt the tackle would hold up if I was careful. The fish though had other ideas and after several very considerate runs across the river and back decided it was time to head off upstream. This is where the problem occurred by way of a tree which had unfortunately grown right on the edge of the bank and which formed very aggressive corner.

I had no choice but to pile on the pressure and try and turn the fish back down the river. With the fish powering upstream and me desperately trying to stop it, the pressure was too much and the line fell slack. Dazed, I turned the handle of the reel to pick up all the slack line and to my surprise I hadn't been broken off at all the lure had just come free.

Truthfully at the time I was gutted to have lost what had to have been something huge. BUT! I have mulled over this incident again and again and now I am thinking maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. You see I reckon I have narrowed down what the culprit could have been. Firstly there was no way it was a zander, as no zed fights like that and I would have taken pretty much any zed no matter how big on that gear. It didn't hit like a pike at all and again I reckon I could have taken out most pike on that gear. I suppose it might have been a catfish, but that would be real rarity in the Avon. Then I thought maybe a massive eel as the side to side shaking was very eel-like, but the runs were insane and as far as I know eels aren't renowned for their repeated long runs. It was after that the thought of foul hooked fish came to mind. The area in question has got a very extensive reputation for big carp which do like to mooch along the margins. Not just that but a few big barbel have begun to get caught in the area.

So the only options for the identity of the lost beast is either an eel the size of a whales winky, or should I say Mobys dick, or that I foul hooked an unsuspecting carp which once comprehended the side to side movements of its tail did nothing, panicked and began charging round like a nutter till it got free. That last theory is exactly why I am actually OK with losing that fish even though I'd love to know what it was.

I know the time I can spend fishing is running short with the countdown to our due date ticking steadily away, so I find myself casting lures furiously at both the river and the canals. As result of casting so much my catch rate has tracked upward as well. Maybe a more mathematically inclined angler in a moment of boredom could be able to work out some kind of equation calculating the amount of fish caught relative to casts made.

Back to the point; my transition to fishing on clear flowing water from coloured almost still water has gone well. It didn't take long to get a good grasp of where the action would lie and even given a few slight changes of conditions I am not finding it that hard to get small pike at least residing in the bottom of my net.

As a nice surprise I even managed to catch a small zander on the Hopyards the other day during a chance evening session after dropping JB off for a meal with friends in a nearby restaurant. Although it might seem a small inconsequential catch considering just how many zander I have banked so far this year, but really this zedlet is my first ever river zander caught on a lure, which to me makes it quite important.

Back on the Coventry canal a few days later the fishing was on good form and from the first cast the small zander were on the lures. Contrary to what I was told by a sponsored lure angler a few weeks ago, I find that no matter how big a lure you use even the smallest zander will have a go when it's in the mood, and this tiny fingerling was more than happy to hit a lure more than big enough to fill its mouth.

I have also found with zander that most of the time they are quite subtle attackers of lures. As a result they never really hit the lure hard and are quite often hooked right on the edge of their mouth. On this occasion even though they still weren't smacking the lure they were really getting right in their mouths.

As I had found a lure which seemed to be working I inevitably ended up losing it and my leader to some unseen snag embedded in the muddy canal bottom. After tying up a new leader I switched to my favorite clown cannibal shad to conserve the single orange koypto remaining in my bag. The change though made no difference and in quick succession I landed two bigger zander.

Half a shoal of zedlets later I hooked something that at first seemed to be holding deep and kiting across the bottom. I did feel a bit of a fool when a tin can popped up attached to my lure, but truthfully I love a comical catch and am more than happy to add this rusty can to my novelty catch list with the boot I caught on the Avon at Saxon mill and the umbrella I dragged out of the Grand union.

Not long after the can was returned unharmed to the canal for someone else to catch, the narrow boats began piling past churning up the water. At that point I went to have a look at a little spillway were a brook enters the canal. Earlier in the year when I fished this area there was always clearer water entering the canal which seemed to hold a shoal of perch. Thinking I was about to do some perch plipping I scaled down my leader, tied on a 2 gram micro jig and hooked up a one inch black curly tail. Keeping the tiny lure on a tight line and short cast I worked the small clear area of water around my own bank. The perch though didn't seem to be home and I soon discovered why when a little pike shot out from the edge of the murky water and smashed into my jig like a train, well like a model train anyway.

The little pike pulled out all the stops jumping out left right and centre. Luckily the tiny jig had caught it right on the outside of mouth well away from those sharp little teeth which would have easily severed the light leader I was now using. The scaled down monster had obviously been hanging around in the clear water as its markings were truly stunning.

It was the perfect fish to end the session on and maybe even start a bit of a break with, as from now on in I think I might be lucky to get another session in before I have to focus my attention on something we've wanted for so long.

"Oh how much time I have wasted in the past"

I knew that when our long awaited bundle of joy came along there would be some time constraints added to our lives. Truthfully I don't think I have ever underestimated something so much in my life before. Three weeks ago young Brody arrived and ever since, time has been sucked into the black hole that is a new baby and I and JB for our parts have stood joyously smiling with teary eyes, shoveling our love and attentions into being there for him whilst barely noticing the world go on around us.

But as everyone says you begin to get used to the extra effort and ultimately life starts to settle down. I for one have now begun to have at least enough time to wipe my arse correctly and have lengthened my showers from three minutes and forty two seconds to a frivolous four minutes.

It wasn't that long after the lad arrived that JB suggested I might like to use a modicum of my paternity on myself and go fishing. Now at still less than two weeks in it seemed she had either gone insane or just wanted a little time alone with the kid without a worrying/annoying father sticking his oar in. Either way she offered and I accepted, although I must say that the only way I could console myself to actually leave was to convince myself it was an actual necessity, so as to keep my skills sharp should society collapse and I need to provide my small family with valuable protein by way of buckets of small zander and perch from the canal.

After literally tearing myself away I ended up sitting in Jeff's courtyard for an hour drinking tea then fishing for a further hour on the cut whilst looking at my watch. I reckon I caught a few fish but truthfully I didn't care as I just wanted home.
Then a mere three days later I was out again after waking for the boys six am feed. This time things were a little more relaxed and successful though once again my heart and mind literally were somewhere else.

It's worth mentioning at this point that I have made some adjustments to my fishing to help ease the transition of being a parent and an angler. Regular followers of this blog may have noticed that my fishing has gone from an all round approach aimed at many species to a focused one targeting some specific species. I can now see that this concentration on lure fishing is going to pay me back in spades as both of my most recent sessions were never planned and on both occasions I just grabbed a bag, rod and net and was fishing within half an hour. Hopefully this bait-less tack will continue to help me be the angler that I am and the good father that I want to be in the very packed schedule that is parenthood.

For now though I am a still primarily concerned with little more than my new amazing boy, but saying that a few fishy thoughts are beginning to creep back into my head, and I can't deny already earmarking a little Shimano lure rod I've got that looks just about right for a toddler to use as a float rod.

I feel like I am just about getting back into the swing of things with this here fishing game. My crushing guilt of leaving JB alone to deal with our little Jekyll and Hyde that is BB is subsiding as we grow used to his demands (of which there are currently many). The first few times out after BB came along it was near impossible to concentrate, but over three varying short sessions I reckon I have clawed back a smaller amount of concentration each time.

It does amaze me that somehow even when my mind is somewhere else, that my body has retained ingrained information that it can just carry on fishing and even catch fish whilst I probably have the outward appearance of a minion, and one of the stupid ones at that. Hence it was quite shock when I was bleeping through baby pictures on my camera and found these two pictures, which according to the date were caught and photographed in the last month, but for the life of me I can't remember catching or photographing them even though I have evidence to prove I did.

Now although not big they do prompt the question, have I attained some kind of canal enlightenment where I can free my body from the shackles of the mind and it will just catch fish on its own without me thinking? Well possibly I have and at least I think I now have to give blindfold lure fishing a go, or if I wanted to be really cool, I could go drag Jeff Hatt out down the cut dress him like Obi wan kenobi and get myself a blast visor and recreate that scene from Star Wars where the old Jedi is whacking on about trusting my instincts.

Ascension aside there are definitely a few more fishy thoughts creeping back into my head as I become used to being a father. Luckily as well this fishing famine came at what I suspect is not a great lure fishing time of year on the canals. The few times I have ventured out I seem to remember that the boat traffic is very heavy, the water is very coloured and although they're aggressive, it seems only small fish are up for hitting the lures. By my reckoning though I could be just about back on point just at the right time, when the predators are getting their munch on ready for winter and the water ways are quietening down.

I don't think I have ever seen the Midlands canals so full of small predators as they are right now. Yes it is possible that my view is a little skewed as predators have been my target of choice for the past god knows how long, but even taking that into consideration there's still loads of them. The bottom of most canals is paved with small perch all of the time, but right now the small zander are catching up and never before have I caught so many jack pike in the canals. Up until this year I was beginning to think the common canal pike of my youth might be an endangered species, but this lure lark has set me right on that matter.

My first prolonged session since becoming a parent seemed the perfect opportunity to check out a section of canal which I used to fish as a child which has recently popped onto my radar again. It's weird because I have been fishing sections either side of the section in question quite a lot this year. A few weeks ago some wonderful tow path info was dribbled into my ears like honey and that tit bit contained my most favourite of phrases 'Big perch'.

Apparently the area in question is very heavily populated with both prey fish and crayfish and after a few enquiries it turned out the area did seem to be producing some nice fish over 2lbs. At another time of the year when the boats were a bit less of a hindrance I would have just gone down toting nothing more than my lure rod, but recent experiences reminded me that if I wanted to be fishing later than nine in the morning a bit of bait might be a good idea.

So with a few worms and a float rod as well as a lure rod, I hit the tow path early hoping to confirm a few rumors were true. I arrived to see the centre canal alive with silver fish and given the dense cover hanging far out over the water all along the far margins, it was hard to pick any particular feature. Luckily I had a spot I fancied might make a good starting point.

Before digging in I had a quick search around with a tiny lure just in case, but that produced nothing but a wind knot in my braid. With so many fish topping I felt sure I would get some serious interest in the worm and quickly plumbed up and baited a spot just off the nearside shelf. Interest I did get, but not from any big perch. Hordes of tiny perch quickly found my broken worms and even a few micro zander turned up as well.

When the water erupted with scattering silver fish, which is unusual on the canals, I was instantly reaching for my lure little Sonik lure rod. Whilst watching the float I'd stripped out the wind knot and tied on a larger 3gram jig and in no time at all I cast my favourite cannibal shad tight into the cover. Two bounces of the lure later something hit it and shot out into the canal. After a spirited fight predator number one, a little pike went in the net.

Straight away after taking a photo and releasing the small pike I cast again tight into the cover about three feet further down the bushes. This time the lure made it into the trench before I felt a sharp tug and struck into predator number two which turned out to be a small zander of a couple of pounds.

I already had a mind to try for the triple and when the third cast into the bushes produced a subtle but definite fishy vibration, I was elated to swing a small but very greedy third predator to hand.

It kind of made sense that after landing three different predators and making a right old fuss that the swim went dead. So I moved down to another nice looking spot to try the worm. Things didn't go that well as the boats soon began ploughing past, but saying that over the next hour or so I did root out four more tiny little zander fishing half a worm just on the edge of the trench.

Honestly I have never seen as much activity on a section of canal and it does seem to help confirm that this could be a good area for big perch. But I have noticed as I have fished on the canal so much that large populations of both predators and prey fish can actually move from one section to another with the changes in the seasons. Both sections either side of the one I fished on this occasion aren't fishing particularly well at the moment, whereas in the winter both were very reliable. So I reckon if I want to track down these big perch in this area I will have to get back quite soon before all the prey fish that have probably attracted them filter off into other areas.

Resplendent, that's the best word I could come up with to describe how the Avon looked on a sunny Saturday morning. We do a lot of walks now we have a child, as I suspect most people do. Anyway having exhausted just about every civilized park close to home we headed over to Warwick to have a amble around St Nicholas park which just happens to be opposite the Myton road stretch I can fish on with my Warwick angling association book.

I kind of thought there was a chance the river would still be holding a little tinge of colour after the recent rain, but I was quite far off the mark with that theory. The water was clear, sparkling and full of lovely wriggly fishes. Quite literally the weed laden margins were swarming with roach. Huge shoals drifted in and out of the streamer weed moving in perfect unison. All over the empty river, random fish topped pulling my eyes to every circular ripple. Every now and again the threat of unseen predators would send fish scattering for safety out of the water. It was one of those times when, my God, you would sell your right testicle for a fishing rod, but nut or not I was rod less standing next to what looked like a perfect river.

There was no doubt I was going back the next day as with so many tasty tit bits flitting around the pike had to be close by. So less than twenty four hours later I found myself standing on the first peg right at the bottom of the Myton road stretch. The river looked amazing and the view of the ancient Warwick castle under the old bridge wasn't too shabby either.

I was hoping to be a bit of clever git and had rigged up a Texas rig so as I could fish a weed less lure right through the streamer weed to try and tempt a few jacks out. The weed density and probably my inexperience in using this new rig meant things didn't work out too well. I was deed keen to get going and straight away punched a zander pro shad across to the edge of the weed lining the far bank. The first and subsequent twenty casts all came back laden with rotting streamer weed. Whether it was to do with me fishing the lure too far into the weed or the late summer weed being too soft and dense I couldn't fathom, but either way it got the better of me.

In the end I resorted back to bouncing a five gram jig head loaded up with a Savage gear soft 4play roach around the weed. This had its limits as I knew the pike were using that weed as cover and I wasn't fishing in the cover. I'd thrashed half the stretch into foam before I got any interest and strangely I got a hard hit mid-river from an unusual suspect. I really thought a small pike or a good perch had nobbled the lure, but when I saw a small zander in the clear water I was surprised. Avon zander can be very condition specific in my opinion and on a bright sunny day and a clear river is about the worst time to try and get one by my reckoning. This one though had really engulfed my Savage gear roach imitation.

My day wasn't going to get any easier after that, and when I got a few pegs further up and found group of box jockeys having a unofficial knock up, the rest of the stretch was off the cards for me. My only option was to drop back to the bottom of the stretch and cover all the river I had already fished a second time. Time was not on my side and just as I reached the first spot opposite the boat hire shop the first family laden swan pedalo hit the water. After that they started coming as thick and fast as I have ever seen them. Two dragons and few flamingos later and the river looked like a scene from a Dr Seuss story.

Finally it was my conscience that drove me off the river. I couldn't with any good conscience continue casting even small lures into a river filled with families enjoying the last bit of summer afloat just in case an errant cast should find a boat. Ironically I did get a bit of tug just before I left the river which makes me think that all the activity might have forced the pike out of the shallows and into the deeper channel in the centre of the river. I actually think this will be really great section of river once the weed dies back a bit and the boat rental shop shuts down for the winter, so I will definitely be back especially as I know there are zander around as well.

All about the perch.

Just one more spot.

Goldilocks and the three braids.

BOGOF

Zander heaven and zander hell.

Light lure fishing adventures in brine.

Possibly a world first.

The things you see on the towpath.

Rehabilitation sessions.

A shock hit.

A bit of a huzzah.

A leisurely start.

Jungle Jacks.

Gel caught zander.

Mobys dick.

Rivers and canals.

All new perspective.

Jedi lure fishing.

Back on track with a triple.

Dragons, swans and flipping flamingos.