The Pre and Post Christmas Rush

PRE-CHRISTMAS

Sinking into the marsh, subsequent steps no deeper than before but each consistently sucked in by the peat-like soil, slowed the walk but did not diminish the enthusiasm as the river was to be at a high level and, with the summer weed now ripped-out and flushed through by a month's heavy rain, the opportunity to apply pole feeder tactics in slack water was irresistible

'Anything that swims' would be in order, as the first priority is to avoid a blank, but there would be that Peter Stone-style aim to pick-out a bigger fish, as always

Choosing a slack below a bridge where the main flow hurtled to the far bank, toward the overhang of hawthorns, the water appeared steady with barely any flow and, closer in, flowed against the main torrent but, there was an 'eye' to this back eddy, centrally, where the water stood still

The essential of offering an attraction of feed on the river bed in such circumstances is limited to a bait dropper or swimfeeder and, with the most recent rain at that time having been cold, this needed to be in limited quantity. The introduction of a single chopped lobworm plugged with a minimal but heavy mix, containing a sprinkling of worm extract, would be introduced and only for the first three lowerings of the rig, after which the ear would make decisions on the state of play

Bites would be expected to be early and consistent, if they came at all should there be any fish in the slack, and sure enough this came in the shape of a rare river gudgeon, and a surprise boost in Challenge points. The marker quivered and disappeared with a disproportionately positive vigour as compared to the size of this tiny mottled brown visitor, which weighed in at just 0.54 ounces on the mini-fish scales

Adding challenge points at the time of year, and with such weather affecting all possible options, is largely an exercise in luck, most of it bad, but the great thing is that the flood, if it produces anything, often produces pleasant surprises, unseasonable species being one of them but also bigger fish than we might anticipate

Ones natural reaction approaching such a situation is to think that anything will do and therefore be happy with a little fish of any species simply to rescue the day from a blank but regularly this can be found to be a negative and pessimistic attitude. That's not to suggest that big fish will be caught from each and every slack. Indeed, some of them won't appear to hold any fish at all but on average it seems every other trip might throw up something a little more interesting. This past week, for instance, a chub of 4lbs+, an eel of over a pound and a string of pristine hand-sized roach have sprung from different swims on various days

For a few weeks the canals locally had been like milky tea, the lakes shocked into the dormancy of winter by the first cold weather and rivers in and out of the fields with varying degrees of turbidity, pace, level and temperature

The most recent rain, a brief but violent downpour on a Friday, of the increasingly prevalent 'climate change'-driven type, was warm, as the weather turned, and, although the river was rising, it was not now carrying much debris. Consequently the fish were more obliging. Simply more hungry, and, thankfully, a series of chublets and roach came to hand in the ensuing couple of hours accompanied by the incessant twittering and wheezing of starlings on the wires, and the occasional whistling of teal

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POST-CHRISTMAS

Rocky Res would be the location as temperatures were expected to be steady and mild for a couple of weeks

Bleak Midwinter, and windswept at even the most enticing of times, this was not a place for the tentative, sensitive nor indeed the unprotected angler

Visits must be preceded by careful analysis of wind direction and speed plus the likelihood of rain, otherwise the most uncomfortable, nigh-on unbearable, sessions are bound to be endured

The first visit was to be the now standard winter stillwater roach approach of maggot feeder and closely positioned two inch heli-rigged hook-length, also loaded with maggot, usually double but part of a constant merry-go-round of hook-bait options in search of a 'killing' combination

HonGenSec beat me to it on the first trip, as usual (albeit biteless at that point), but, even though there were a few carpers and pikers ensconced, swims were going aplenty

Ultimately it became apparent that my negativity in hook size would come to haunt me, catching four fish and losing five due a surprising interest from tench in just 5degC water temps [no one tell Len Head!]. The best roach was 12ozs, for each of us

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Next trip and HGS was well in front of me and had 5 or 6 roach to 1lb before I'd even turned-up.

The approach was to be different this time, and new. I recalled having a tube of 'sticky mag' in the bag and, combined with a slider rig, this was to be the challenge of the day fishing into 10' of water at around 20-25m. How this would take me back!

Never having used sticky mag it was a bit of a challenge to even get it to work, but it did, and very effectively too. It was easy to roll 20 gentles into a ball and fire them out with a standard catapult. It did require a bowl of water to swill the fingers in, as the stickiness was staggering. I had imagined it would be like a cornflour-type thickening agent but in use it seemed more like powdered toffee, or the like. So adhesive was it that the bait became rigid under its power

My recollection of the slider rig (it had been a while) wasn't the best and I did suffer with tangles, however subsequent seeking of advice from experts, a couple of errors with shotting and casting technique are now resolved. I think the hook bait was attached directly to the float for 50% of the session! Not good, but maybe you gotta make mistakes to learn sometimes (I keep telling myself!)

The upshot of the session was that HGS kept trotting along showing me roach of ever-increasing size, to over the pound mark, in fact, while I kept plugging away. It was during one of those chats that I actually had a bite and landed a very respectable perch of a pound thirteen. Later came the light-bulb moment that this might even have represented more unexpected challenge points

It did, sixty-odd of them!

Another 10oz roach followed but then the dark set-in early with heavy cloud and mist. HGS had by then quit for the heated car seat option but his catch of nine roach, all over ten ounces, for a total catch of around seven pounds, would do more to keep the home fires burning than any amount of hot food

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Next day, the third visit, there could be no excuses. I knew where the bigger roach were, the rig, the slider episode was out of the system and I had doubled-up an eleven foot 1lb t.c. rod prior to the holiday and matched them to alarms and bobbins. The heli-rigs would be back in action!

Arriving just after sunrise, the light southerly would again be from behind the chosen spot, if it was free. Again there was total cloud cover (very much akin to the Dutch 'Total Football' but without the game itself being in anyway involved...unless a perch was caught, obviously) and no one else there, (a Saturday!), again, the water was around 5degC

Pilfering a few rocks from the bank, the rods were set-up perfectly (this time). Maggot at first, then a few flavours proved nothing until bites started to emanate. Inquiries at first then full-blown backdrops; never frantic but regular and generally hit-able

Firstly roach, in fact the first fish was over a pound and followed by a couple of twelve ouncers

1.1.5

Then the tincas moved in, inexplicably smaller than the average summer fish initially, at two and half pounds, but cracking fish to take in Christmas week

Not one, but two bailiffs, approached me at various times to see if anything was stirring and both were genuinely pleased that the answer was, "Yes", as the lack of bums on seats bivvy bed-chair thingies demonstrated that things could only have got better

Then a passing couple or two. It was a dead-end. They had to come back so it was easy to lose count, honest. Suspected as angling husbands and non-angling generally frozen partners suffering the event in the hope of ending-up somewhere warm later, maybe?

My final visitor however was actual angling royalty in the ever-upright form of 1960's England International Hubert Noar; now in his seventies; still match fishing on canals; still seeking bigger fish than the youngsters, albeit more so with perch than roach these days, it seems, and still drawing more than his fair share of what we used to call 'coin', I suspect

"Didn't expect to see you here!" he said, binoculars at the ready in case the regular passage migrant from Norfolk, a bearded tit, should emerge from the reeds

We reminisced

Old names, old techniques, preferences and, as always with anglers of this stature, a couple of nuggets; gems, if you like. Apparently back in the heyday of the middle Great Ouse, when anglers from Rugby Federation, it is fair to say, dominated, it seems Hubert used to come to Rocky Res to practice the unique long float technique into surface drift-affected deep water rather than driving for ninety minutes to the actual venue between matches. It paralleled my own experience, teaching myself to fish bread punch in readiness for a Grand Union Canal NFA National in North London by using the Leicester Arm of the same canal, it would be similarly clear, in the early mornings at the very least, and, sure enough, it worked in that manner too.

Suddenly - resounding bleeps on both rods at once

I struck into what was clearly a better tench on the left-hand rod combined with a solid drop-back on the right-hand rod leaving the alarm bleeping constantly. Hubert was desperate to help-out so I let him pick up the r.h. rod and he held it until I had netted the tench and soon it was joined by a good roach in the same landing net

A quick weigh put the tench at 3lbs 8ozs and the previously unmolested form of the freshly minted roach at a cracking 1.5.3, and (just) more unexpected Challenge points

Best tench of the day

"I expect you'll be doing a film about this place next then?!", he enquired. Very much matter of fact

"No, I think there are plenty of people who know more about this place then I do Hubert", came the reply. His response was indeed flattering, yes, but, I have to say, very much wide of the mark

According to my build-up of notes (no keepnets allowed) the catch comprised 5 roach and 4 tench for a total of exactly sixteen pounds with the smallest fish again eleven ounces.

Quality fishing at one of the best stillwaters in the area

Best roach of the day

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Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all, let's hope the fishing is on the up at last!

What Price a really Big Canal Roach this Winter?

Sat, as I was, on the outside of a bend I had meant to but never actually fished before with two fish in the (though bagged up at home) net, so to speak, a wonder of technology interrupts me from deep in my pocket...

"What do you reckon the chances of a NOC 2lb roach this winter? 

They don't seem to be shrinking. By your recent results I 'd say not. 

There's a very big surprise out there you know, George. 

I'm certain".

It's 06.45 hours and the recently christened 'Blogfather' is pestering me, having recently remembered I am an early riser. How to reply to Jeff?

I ponder.

Why was I here?

Because it would be out the wind, dry and full of promise, but promise of what? Truth be told I had arrived with no great intentions other than to 'go fishing'. The previous evening had been consumed with financial stuff and it was simply an opportunity to get out there for a couple of hours before a 10am appointment.

By now a hybrid of around 1.8.0 and a tiny perch had succumbed.

A reply grew in my mind. Just answer the question I thought, what do you really think? Well, I was fishing the roach method and expecting whatever came along on large flakes of bread (I've gone past punches to squeezes now, as we've progressed) plus the usual quivertip to one side with whole lobworm, enticing not much of any size as it happened.

"Trying to catch one as we speak!

 

Pretty good I would say, albeit my latest ones have been on GUC".

 

I kept plugging away but I was pestered by various chattering walkers and lost concentration missing many bites in what was a 'bite a chuck' session. Roach to 9ozs, Bream to 1.4.0, Perch to 7ozs, Zander to 8ozs and a lot of topping small roach told me this wasn't the swim for bigger fish. It was however a peg I would definitely have run to in a match back in the 1980's.

 

With 45 minutes to work time I moved the other side of the road bridge, next to which I had been sat, on a particularly narrow and featureless stretch of the North Oxford Canal. I could fish past middle without letting any line out on the 12' rod.

 

In went two hands full of mash and, first cast, up popped the float and an initially pathetic battle commenced, soon enough though young rutilus realised this was for real and had a proper go at getting away, at which point I too had a realisation that he maybe wasn't so young

 

A cracking roach surfaced and slid without fuss in to the waiting cradle

 

Pictures taken with a bait sample for scale and the scales deployed to show he went 1-6-12. From memory the best NOXC roach of the season

 

 

Well, it is I early November, it is mild and the canal colour did scream, "Bread!". So what else should I have expected when combined with Jeff's prompt?!

 

Then a boat. Then another boat immediately, the other way, but, being near moored craft, they were very slow and by the time I'd moved somewhere wider, three pegs further along, the silt was already settling out of sight.

 

Three more hands full of mash went in and out went the rig.

 

The phone rings, it's work. I take the call and hook, play, land, unhook and return a bream of around a pound during the call. Time was short, no time to waste

 

"One more cast", I tell myself

 

Instantly up pops the float again and this time something more solid risks its secrecy and fights with vigour. It can only be hybrid (perhaps not powerful enough though) or roach; and if it's a roach it's better than 1.6.12!

 

Soon it is in view. It's over a pound and half for sure and it has red fins

 

Then it gets tangled round a rope a boater has left dangling from the piling under my feet, unseen 'til now. I can see it underwater and decide to net it in that state but only succeed in pushing it off, further out, and the fight recommenced but very quickly was over once the fish was given a gulp of air 

 

Preoccupied at having almost lost it, I momentarily lost sight if it's sheer size. A smartly dressed country gentleman with dog appears over my right shoulder and snaps me back to reality. Yes, it was landed.

 

"My goodness that's of some size! What sort of fish is that?", he exclaims.

 

Being at this point somewhat chuffed with myself I tell him, "Roach. A two pound roach is the fish of lifetime and that must be a pound and a half so I could not be more happy". "At least", he replies and trots off with Fido into the fields

 

Opening the net and gazing at this otherwise concealed beauty of the canals I am dumbstruck. A quick clear photo and he's in the bag being weighed, scales zero'd twice for certainty

 

 

One pound thirteen ounces on the mark.

 

The fish takes the, drug-free, silver medal without dispute in the all time F,F&F all canals roach table

 

Both fish were relatively young and so, yes Jeff, I think there's a chance of a 2lb North Oxford Canal roach this winter. How far beyond that they may go I dare not guess, but I'll be out there searching too

What Constitutes a Good Day?

An impromptu possibility Wednesday morning was ignited by a somewhat startled little owl standing on the edge of the road as I headed out, remarkably blotchy bundles of feathers that they are. If a silverfish was an omen last time out surely this could be one this time, or so I had hoped

I figured that owl was worth about 25% of what could be considered a good day

A peg was selected that The Old Duffer used to frequent prior to his canal angling retirement. Relatively narrow but with a vegetated natural bank across and grass neatly manicured by fluffy, big eared, powder-puff-tailed Roman imports to sit on

A lot of small fish were topping and the bird song was almost so prolific as to make some of the species i.d. confused by the noise

Little happened initially and I fed another swim in a marina mouth as Plan B after about half an hour, having wet a line at about 5.30am. On returning to the swim and casting in the lump of punched bread the float did some strange gyrations and a two ounce roach had somehow managed to swallow a bait about four times the size of its mouth. A few casts later a similar thing occurred but this time it felt like a good-sized fish but without much much fight, it soon appeared near the surface. A black shape from the depth of reasonably clear water and those curvy fins unmistakable as a tench. Only the third I had ever seen from this cut, having taken two back at new year 2013...and suddenly, on seeing me, it took flight...then it was interesting! The nearside shelf soon became clouded as the slippery customer sought refuge in it's silty bed, and among rocks and roots beneath my feet. First one way then the other but somehow it was possible to limit the line it took and the baited area was not ploughed through. After what seemed quite a few minutes, but probably wasn't, the fish tired and was drawn towards the, suddenly tiny looking, big roach net

This took the percentage of a good day up to 80% minimum on the joint ticket of rarity and size

Overhead a pair of warblers, possibly chiffchaffs, chased wildly over the water perhaps in shared celebration of the capture resulting in one actually hitting the surface but managing to shake itself clear and escaping into the bushes, only to be pursued again

A trot along to the other peg indicated a serious infestation of crayfish with fine fizzing bubbles covering the still canal top over the fed area and sure enough the action under the water confirmed it. After a few minutes it was decided to return to the first peg but to little avail

The temptation of a never before fished area the other side of the nearby road bridge grew greater and, as I made my way there, the paleness of the far shelf was evident in this tree-lined darker cutting contrasting with the relative open airiness of the starting area. Soon after introducing both bait and feed a hand-sized silver bream obliged and was reintroduced to the water some fifty yards to the right

Then, an unusual event for this canal, a genuine bow-wave of a far side fish off the edge of trailing brambles. Seconds later a dark shape drifted in the same direction under my nose. A three pound fish. Species unknown.

Within seconds a positive bite, as a blackcap struck-up its liquid song in opposing scrub, and a more than decent fight. Again unusually for the canal the need to allow the centre-pin to give line off the ratchet took hold as this powerhouse fish took flight. What could it be, another springtime mega-hybrid perhaps?

No delayed confirmation this time however as the first time the fish broke the surface, not something I encourage of course(!), it exposed it's whole self to view as its flank gleamed that of a massive chub. A CHUB!

Only a week or so ago a friend asked if this, to all intents, crude bread fishing method ever caught any carp. Well the answer was 'no' (as they are not numerous in the canal and I tend to fish it down the middle, whereas canal carp of course tend to patrol far bank shelter) but it has to be said that an undoubtedly, by sight, three pound plus fish far outweighed any canal carp I might, or rather might not, have caught

I'm sure I will have stated this before but north oxford canal chub are, while statistically less rare that tench, very, very uncommon. In the 1990's there was one peg on some brambles where they would very occasionally show, some five or six miles east, but I don't recall anything above a two pounder and, other than that only two fish spring to mind, one around a pound and one just under two above Hillmorton Locks

This fish only just fitted the net and as the connection, pole to net thread, was somewhat dodgy I lifted the net itself with two hands from the water...and wondered.

Three nine it went, three nine. I keep repeating myself. Did I say it was three nine?

All those hours spent chasing River Leam chub and here was one, dare I say, caught by accident from the bloomin' cut that would sit second on that river list! What a beauty though and as chunky as a tin of pedigree chum...with scales

So, as by this time we were up to around 150% of a good day, 'one more cast' was risked. A proper and surprisingly quite instant bite after the commotion brought a roach of half an ounce under the pound into the bizarre early morning equation. This alone would have been 20-25% of a good day under normal circumstances.

As I mused my way back home, and ultimately to work, I pondered the conundrum; although football managers believe it is possible to have more than 100% of something the rest of the sane world realises this is impossible, but had it been achieved this exceptional morning?

'No!', I decided...it must have been 100% of a very good day, very good indeed.

Small River Chub and Roach

The big canal roach hunt is temporarily shelved with the North Oxford having relinquished it's usual strong colour to the invading cold nights and a distinct lack of roach in some usually key areas. There are still the deeper stretches to go at but, for now, the distraction of early evening River Leam chubbing has taken hold

Last season, and perhaps for part of the season before (I don't recall), the written advice of Tony Miles was implemented with as much commitment as one could muster for the cause and many things were learnt, not least likely swims and a knowledge of the venue which of course is fundamental to all angling quests

Having dallied with the syndicate water earlier in the season and then canals until an appropriate chill hit the air coupled with the most recent downpours, perhaps as long as a month ago, set the mind racing in another field, as it were

It was easy last season to say that the Leam is not the river it once was but who am I to make such a claim after just a few months trying to learn methods never before known? The river, in fact maybe rivers generally, are rarely in good shape for the optimum angling opportunity to present itself. Catching the colour and flow of falling river in perfect circumstances is very much down to luck and the likelihood of these factors merging together on a weekend are nothing less than pure fluke, but recently they did and things were good all along the river when, where anglers bothered, apparently there were good catches of roach to be had as their inhibitions were cast aside

I'm not certain how many sessions I've enjoyed on the Leam over the past year or more but I estimate it, against the loss of records for 2012/13, at around 20 or maybe it was only 15 but somewhere in that bracket for sure, and those usually short, sharp sorties were an average of no more than 2 hours long. Many of those estimated 30 to 40 hours bankside were spent fishing bread flake combined with mashed bread feed for chub and big roach. The target being to crack the 4lb Leam chub barrier so regularly breached by Mr Miles and his conspirees back in the heyday of this short yet intriguing water course

Mist descends on the valley

35 hours produced 6 chub and 1 notable roach to the novice small stream angler. Then, as I often committed to writing at that time, the venue was regularly well under par with low flows and clear conditions, and consequently I only recall taking two chub earlier than 30 minutes before actual sunset - both just over 2lbs as it happens. The other four came around or after dusk when I would occasionally fish for an hour into dark by which time I'd either caught one and killed the tiny restricted swim with the commotion or no bites had ensued and the roast dinner took over the immediate thoughts

So apart from the optimal conditions three to four weeks back, when as it happens I was trying to avoid roach and later regretted it!, the river has fairly quickly reverted to that same situation and catching decent fish in daylight has become a challenge

Saturday I ended up in the fortunate situation of having from dawn until just after lunch free to really have a go at the river and I had convinced myself in a previous evening session (which produced chub of 2.1.0 and 3.4.0 to link legered large flakes while watching what appeared to be good roach rising in the moonlight at an inaccessible area of the swim) that to return with a small cage feeder on a carefully spool-clipped cast and filled with liquidised bread was the way forward.

Two pounds of lipless chub

Difficult to see in this dreadful photo but two parallel lines 4-5" apart on both flanks set this fish apart

 And work it did but nothing over 5-6ozs was taken in a major experimentation session messing around with hook sizes, tail lengths, shot on the tail, etc., until I had convinced myself that a 20mm bread punch (I didn't want to go any smaller anyway), a nine inch tail and a simple link-legered approach was probably about the best I could do. Of course I knew that the chances of bigger fish were going to be scuppered by the timing of the visit, and so it proved, but nevertheless the option of trying this at dusk instead of the usual chub tactics will now add to the variety of options on offer. I also intend not to use the 11' Avon as the tips seem just a touch too stiff for roach and so the Wand will no doubt get an outing soon and we just pray that the 4lb chub does not appear on the evening (it will of course!), having said that the wand has coped admirably with hard-fighting fish over 2lbs thus far and so maybe I shouldn't unduly worry. I'm also pondering the option of a baitdropper using a short pole for certain baits to be fed, particularly chopped worms for perch if I can decide on a swim for the approach. This may be a better bet in daylight as perch seem to me to be the least bothered fish when it comes to feeding outside the hours of darkness, apart perhaps from pike

So the day produced around 3lbs of small roach, with one dace and one minnow, and the only decent bite I had was on the very last cast as I was putting a knot in the liquidised bread bag. Apart from picking up the flask I can think of no more sure-fire manner in which to conjure that elusive bite!

Pristine little fella

 

The greed!

Sunday evening I was back for a last minutes of daylight chub session in a swim I had seen last year but not seriously fished under then heavy flows. It offered a good flow under the rod-tip in a reasonable depth, an eddy to my right on the inside and another opposite behind a rush bed. I could just about make-out the C's painted on the water by the ghost of Mr Crabtree in various locations. I have figured with this early evening tactic that the best thing to do is to fish very close to the peg initially and gradually work ones way further away from oneself as time progresses on the basis that if you fish the very end of the swim first and are lucky enough to take a fish then it will decimate the rest of the peg in the time taken to force it upstream

So, first drop in, having introduced mash in various strategic locations, was in the eddy to my right and as I tightened to the swan shot the tip just continued to bend round after I had stopped winding the reel, I struck and felt nothing. Dropping in again produced an exact replica bite and soon a chub of a pound four was being reintroduced to the water with thanks for his boisterousness

Already an isotope was in order as it had taken a few minutes to walk to the peg but half an hour later as my casts had become increasingly long and searching, albeit by small degrees, another relatively gentle bend of the tip resulted in a good fight from a fish which took me under a submerged branch and after some cajoling eventually came out on a slack line only to then take me into the rush bed just 3m in front of me! This time a good ol' heave brought it out on top and across the surface into the waiting net. A perfectly formed chub of 2.13.0 and causing enough chaos to send me scuttling back through the descending mist after snagging on an invisible bush in the dark and losing everything that mattered soon after

The most recent victim

Already the short chub list, or chub short-list, equals that of last winter with six taken but as it gets colder, and the winter properly sets in, I really fancy this just might be a more interesting campaign than last year with another stretch to assess on the horizon with deep holes linked by fast-flowing gulleys. Meanwhile the cage feeder for roach tactic will be deployed after dark to see what redfins we can tempt, if any. I took one over a pound last winter and as The Old Duffer says. "Where there's one...there's one".

OF SUNRISES, AND BOYHOOD ADVENTURES RECALLED

The weekend enabled some fishing, some water meadow wanderings and, armed with new otter sign knowledge, some general naturey meanderings were undertaken in an area not seen since I was at school largely at the upper end of the Warwickshire Avon and its crossing of watery paths with the North Oxford Canal

First thing Saturday saw the usual roachy shenanigans on the cut. Cut it was, but accompanied by the word 'short' as 60 walkers and 12 narrowboats, each one associated with a Rugby Union Premiership Club, headed off from Rugby to Twickenham in aid of the Matt Hampson Trust. The leader-off was a gentleman, and a former canal match angler, who broke his back seven years ago and was attempting the route on crutches for the fourth time, and sometimes we are inclined to complain about our lot. Complain, about the boats and otherwise considered disturbance, I did not; for once I was humbled by the sight and bid them good day and good luck as I parted with the only two shiny coins deep inside many-layered clothing and slowly packed my gear away in awe of the effort these people were putting in for a worthy cause

The catch had been good in any event, albeit a couple of solid fish were bumped on the strike for no apparent or logical reason later on. The roach fed well from the moment the rig hit the water as seems to be the case at present with the water not noticeably cold when mashing the bread to pursue the method described in the previous post. Indeed they came thick and fast before bream moved in on the heavy feed. The best roach (pictured above) went 1-3-5 and sits safely in 10th place on the all time canal list



The Saturday Catch. 5 roach to 1-3-5 and 3 bronze bream to 2-6-0

An event I hadn't witnessed on a canal for many years unfolded before my eyes and, initially, ears when I heard a definite 'plop' to the right and looked round to see an orange fluttering as a kingfisher emerged from the water with its, or its kids', breakfast, which was duly beaten into submission on a branch. The extravagantly coloured bird which, when flying from twig to stem, in the hunt for fry has that bumble bee-like impossible design aesthetic converts into a jet propelled blue missile when commuting more urgently around it's territory. The roach almost seemed as nothing by comparison to this little wonder of the waterway

Later in the day The Lady Burton had an appointment; The Dog was batting no.5 for the local town club so Parps and I headed off for, in one case, some nostalgia and, in the other, a new adventure

We started on the canal and found evidence of otter having passed through under the very first bridge. I, we, found it incredible that this large elusive mammal could possibly live in such a busy place, but they do and, while I had expected to find such evidence by the river the canal was hardly the first spot I would have looked  

Some good looking pegs were passed in an area I had only once before fished in the Rugby Schools Championship back in the mid-late 1970's, when ounces were the order of the day(s)

Then we decided to follow the river, first downstream, then up. I remembered a few of the features of the landscape but naturally it had changed in the ensuing 35 years. There is no direct link for fish through the area of the river with the downstream section cut-off from the upstream by outfalls, overspills and concrete, not to mention a fine collection of aquatic Tesco trolleys and discarded bikes.

Some bread pellets thrown into some pacey, dark, and therefore deeper, water soon had chub of around eight to twelve ounces pouncing from the depths and further upstream beneath a weir a few roach were to be seen with a least one worth fishing for

Soon we abandoned this man-made riverine route and headed for the natural streamy river further up-flow where the most beauteous water meadows still exist and remain just as I remembered them from my youth.

So variable is a river at this stage of it's life. First fast-flowing through channels in phragmites beds, colonised by reed and sedge warblers as they vie for the loudest most repetitively incessant song, then slowing to the standstill of wide, deep bends inhabited by shoals of deeply-coloured roach which top with abandon mid-day in hot spring sunshine as if to celebrate the quite wondrous habitat the are fortunate enough to treat as their own

 

Top - reed warbler, softly plumaged and with an eye-stripe stopping at the eye
Bottom - sedge warbler, more bold wing striations, with a complete and deep eye-stripe

We knelt in the emerging lushness of bank side herbage, with the rich smell of crushed leaves coursing through the nostrils, and came to regret the absence of a picnic now that we had wandered so far

A few discs of best bread were compressed and flicked into the stream under a hawthorn. Roach chased and harried for the treasure until, each time, the white speck suddenly was gone, the view enhanced by Polaroid lenses, and then, from the dark water below, a chub burst through the roach and in a tight arc took the bread and was gone in a instant. All it left, the memory of the flashing flank of this one golden pirate

We followed the course downstream for few yards, past nesting moorhens and more sedge warblers disputing territory, for soon the rushes would be high enough to nest and by that time the need to argue would be better ignored with energy directed to the necessity to procreate in a world so fragile

On a winding section of river an eight inch wide surge of small bubbles commenced at the far bank and progressed downstream with some speed, mid-stream. We both knew this could only mean one thing - the mammal that had eluded us in England for so long was before us, we just had to be still and wait for it to surface. 20, 30, 40m the bubbles continued, ducklings scattered in panic and the perpetrator suddenly burst from the water in a flurry of wing beats, warning quacking and spray. A female mallard had to advise her young, urgently, that we were about to catch and eat them...and so the otter can wait until another day!

Somewhat embarrassed at expecting the unlikely and being proven wrong we offered some more bread to roach in a deep pool on a tightening bend and they accepted without question. We suspected a pellet of bread punch from a slice would have these little chaps beyond redemption come June 16th

In about 1975 The Old Duffer and I came to this very river to find it bright red with roof tile dye from a factory upstream. Fish sought refuge out of the water, so painful was it for them to withstand the effects. We could not rescue them all but raised the alarm and managed to get to a two pound chub which took up residence in our bath for a day or two while we pondered its fate. Given the Avon was likely going to be poisoned for some time into the future we introduced it to the Swift, a small tributary, upstream of their confluence some mile or two downstream of its rescue. An admittedly futile gesture but it made us feel as though we had done our bit

As we traipsed back through the finely preserved, and somewhat literally breathtaking, ridge and furrow to the path a young ginger-backed rabbit proved very confiding; basing it's survival on the old human baby theory 'If I cover my eyes they can't see me', or, in this case, it hid behind a blade of grass and we, being expert spotters, saw through it!

The day was one of discovery or, in my case, rediscovery and no lack of emotion and plain old sentimentality to see this landscape very much untouched since my youth and simply bursting with such a biodiverse community of animals.To think that all of England must have been of this natural quality once though even more species-rich, until the water companies straightened it out, no doubt

The first hooked fish of the morning comes to the top against a backdrop of sunrise

This morning started much as the last one but an absence of good roach did not go unnoticed. They seem to be in tighter areas now and the bream and hybrids are beating them to the feast when they are dominant in number

A hybrid with spawning time tubercles on it's head is gently replaced in the water 

Apart from a fascinating internal debate over blackcap and garden warbler song, I think I had both during the morning, the highlight was an old three pounds five ounce love-scarred bream with its sides and chin scratched and bleeding. Otherwise hard-fighting hybrids again proved the attraction together with an interesting bird list which kept me amused for the duration of the three hour session that commenced just after 5am

Next weekend sees us off for our annual spring Highlands trip and based on it being half as good as last year, I cannot wait

Species list for weekend:
Mallard, moorhen, wren, blackbird, carrion crow, chaffinch, woodpigeon, collared dove, swallow, swift (they're back!), kestrel, buzzard, goldfinch, dunnock, kingfisher, skylark, goldcrest, great tit, magpie, blue tit, lapwing, jackdaw, whitethroat, blackcap, willow warbler, reed bunting, pheasant, pied wagtail, jay, reed warbler, sedge warbler, chiffchaff.
Rabbit, grey squirrel, brown rat.
Roach, bronze bream, roachXbream hybrid.
Orange-tip, small white, speckled wood

BIG CANAL ROACH UPDATE

The influx of milder air has presented with it the opportunity to experiment further with the approach for big canal roach

Regular followers will appreciate that despite the bream and hybrid fest that my local canal has offered these past few weeks it is really the big roach that bring a smile to the face and a sharp intake of breath everytime something with a bluish hue to its scales breaks the murky surface, and bread is the bait to tempt them to bite

Up until this spring the tactic had been to mush-up a slice or two of white bread and over a period of two to three hours the equivalent of about four hen's egg-sized balls might be introduced to the water. Contrast this with an old 35mm film pot, or two, of dry fine white bread crumb introduced over a similar period for bread punch fishing

I had always been of the opinion that bread fished in matches had to be very carefully planned so that the fish did not get overfed on those odd days, or perfect venues, when they could feed for an extended period on the bait and thus provide the opportunity to do well on that method. The idea would be to introduce a pot full of dry crumb on still canals at the start, at three-quarters the width of the cut but mixed so dry in fact that it would initially float and then slowly sink in an ever-increasing cloud. A large (5mm) bread punch would then be fished over it laid-on about 6", then 3" and then off the deck to see what was happening. On fish-filled venues a lack of action would result in the rig being chucked up the bank and another option pursued, but, on hard venues, it might have been persevered with in the hope that a few fish that others might miss-out on could be brought to the net as bonuses

I, and others, were very much of the opinion that successful punch fishing was all about not over-feeding the fish as there were many of those harder venues which simply would not respond to more than one or, at the most, two feeds of crumb before the swim would completely die and Plans B, C, and possibly even D, would be called for. The largest fish often came first and it was rare on most of the canals I fished in excess of 15 years ago to be able to keep them coming for more than an hour

So, it was against this backdrop of fifteen years' extensive bread punch fishing experience that I set about trying to catch big roach this time around commencing in 2011 by way of a newly emerging approach to angling and, with match fishing now well and truly out of the system, results were fine in a 'that would have nice in match' kind of manner but when it came to the crunch this fishing purely for pleasure was not satisfied in that manner and I again drifted-off into other worlds. Early in 2012 however I stumbled over a post by the Idle Quester himself Jeff Hatt that set the metaphorical hare racing in a totally different direction - backwards, in fact

Jeff set-out an old fashioned Fred J Taylor-esque lift-bite method for big canal roach on rod and line and I simply had to give it a go on the pole. First trip out it produced a 3lb bream and a brace of 1lb roach in the first half hour, followed by nothing. The baiting method was much the same as the old days but with sloppy bread crumb in similar quantities and, over time, it became apparent that this approach was fine through the winter when one didn't necessarily expect many fish but it was often a case of one bite only and this could sometimes take over an hour to materialise so, once it came and went, one could quite comfortably head-off home in the knowledge that the day's sport had been enjoyed

All this kept me perfectly content for quite sometime as catching big roach so regularly was still new to me, and something of an eye-opener in general. However some parts of the picture were blurred, much like the new varifocals the Lady Burton and I are wearing; the odd fish here and there is fine but it's all a bit one dimensional; it was difficult to stop these larger fish occasionally tearing through the fed area of the swim like mad things as the balance between an elastic choice to set the hook and yet not pull-out of the delicate mouths of the fish was finely judged but, more importantly, how could these regular odd fish be increased in number?

Chub fishing on the River Leam gave me some ideas. I was amazed at the quantity of bait that could be introduced to choke-off the small fish and yet not over feed hungry bigger fish. Was it not time therefore that I realised big canal fish had similarly proportioned stomachs and appetites contrary to my indoctrinated match angler's opinion?

The next step therefore was to try mashed bread instead of liquidised. It took some of the hassle out of getting ready too as the bread could simply be mashed by hand on the bank. The result was initially quite similar and perhaps the only noticeable thing was that more hybrids and bream started to be caught but catch numbers and the pole associated issues remained

Eventually I took the plunge and dusted-off my old light 11' canal roach rod, built for building weights of 1-4oz fish in the days before zander when such a thing was possible. What struck me immediately, or really 'struck the fish', was that the act of striking itself drew the fish away from the baited area in one sweep of the rod. There had been a couple of occasions when heavy fish, around 3lbs, had simply caused the no.6 solid pole elastic to stretch on the strike which adequately set the hook but, in fact, the fish hadn't been moved thus causing it's subsequent actions to wreck the remaining fishing, not so with a rod

For a few weeks I again remained happy with this approach until, with the advent of warmer weather I one day piled some more feed in at the start thinking it was worth the risk in a noted area as the fish were now feeding more avidly and yet I also knew that the initial feed was the one most likely to result in a reasonable catch as subsequent feeds never produced as many fish, nor for so long. Bread is after all an instant bait when the receptive species of fish are in the swim already (roach, 2 bream species and their hybrids), that I am sure will never change

The prospect of waiting for bites remained but now there was a difference. I had come to realise that those days when fish took a while to bite, so to speak, were often preceded by their own form of 'silent dawns', that is not to suggest the birds weren't singing but that nothing would top at that crucial visible activity time for roach during the hour after sun-up. The sign had been obvious but my past made me blinkered I was having to learn some of the watercraft I had missed-out on by fishing so often through the middle of the day in the past at a time when a topping big fish was probably having some kind of fit and on a peg that I had been forced to fish. So the fish weren't there then, it was that simple, but they would go by at some point if the boat action was later rather than early in the morning

This uncovered the key point, it was this quantity of initial feed that, in simple terms, determined, within limits of course, the size of the catch. I am not suggesting that the more feed you pile in at the off the more fish you will catch, that clearly would be nonsensical, but it would be true to say that there needs to be a fair old dollop of food there for them to hold their interest as they pass through and the cup of fine white crumb or liquidised bread was just not up to the task, under those circumstances it was more likely that one of the fish passing by in the shoal would pick up the bait anyway without the feed having influenced proceedings at all, and that is too much like pure luck to be of interest to the thinking angler

A now somewhat typical mixed bag of bronze bream, hybirds and a pound plus roach

Once this apect of feeding became clear the situation changed beyond belief, helped by increasing water temperatures into spring, the use of various rod types has helped to refine the method when combined with a centre-pin, rather than a fixed spool reel, such that, currently, early morning three-hour catches probably average around 6-7lbs comprising 3-10 fish. Occasionally the three to four hens-egg sized balls of mashed bread will produce a nice net of good roach when combined with a large punched (15-25mm) disc of medium sliced bread if they are present but it is also filling the net with bream, big hybrids and occasional silver bream like the 1-5-8 PB taken just yesterday first cast from a swim I last visited as a boy with The Old Duffer (who tells me he is close to getting back on the bank after a whole year out of action - he'll miss his first bite out of over-excitement of course!)

Almost as good as a big roach but certainly a higher percentage of the national record. A silver bream of 1-5-8 taken first cast at 5.15am on 20mm punch 

Much of this type of fishing relies heavily on the first couple of hours before boat traffic gets moving and so the need to hit the fish hard early is essential to make the most of those sessions. A start before 5.30am is the order of the day with bites often immediate. The fact the canal has been fishing unbelievably well to this method for around 6 weeks does help of course and, come the winter, this may well change but for the time being this method is quite excellent and, combined with the occasional sortie with lobworms for perch, is a more than satisfying distraction from the intensive Monday to Friday life



Drill bit cases cut in half as over-sized punches. The inner sleeve is bunged with cotton wool soaked in glue

When the Fishing gets The Bird

Distant washing moggy

At the crack of dawn this morning on former moorland by the canal with a young plantation nearby it was evident that willow warblers had this year arrived in good number, with three simultaneously singing from different perches both within the wood and in standard hedgerow trees

A mistle thrush struck-up it's somewhat limited repertoire from a distant branch and the occasional blackcap, chaffinch and dunnock joined in

Of greatest interest however was the faint calling of the lapwing later fully brought out of his carefree staccato patterings in an arable field by a passing corvid, causing him to take to the air like Mo Farah with dodgy joints. Rocking first this way then that with his over-sized pied wings exaggerating each movement and giving away the nesting activity his imperceptible mate undertook below on the bare earth

The bird interest was exceptional for a fishing trip, mind you my trips are never just fishing trips, they ought to have another name really, 'nature observation' or some such title perhaps. Again the enchantment stemmed from the numerous songs to be heard at various times. The morning had commenced with the slightest hint of frost on the banks in isolated pockets opposite the wood and it was there that the angling expectation took root with a good helping of mashed bread deposited down the middle of this narrow stretch, the first two casts produced roach of just over and just under the pound...no longer the wait of an hour or two for a bite with the gradually increasing water temperature. The peg was the most pleasurable, with a short section of subsided bank allowing a seat to be taken down at water level - always preferable for that feeling of being at one with the water and surroundings

Despite a burst of topping fish half an hour after dawn no more action was to be enjoyed. A first boat at 06.38 did not help greatly but that is the risk of early Saturday mornings, when narrowboats hired by the inexperienced need to cover too much water in getting back to the marina for handover, necessitating an early start for them too

So, armed with some knowledge gained in recent weeks, more bread was introduced some four pegs to the left opposite an open field. Immediately it was noticeable that the bird list was growing just for the sake of an 80 yard walk into a adjoining habitat linked only by the canal and its margins, as the gear was relocated while the feed settled. A male reed bunting could be heard forcing out his feeble notes in the now suddenly emerging rushes and the previously seemingly distant lapwing was now more visible and careering over his chosen field in a manner evocative of an age gone by; when, on many a rose-tinted balmy spring evening, The Old Duffer and I, would wonder at their ability to tumble apparently out of control without breaking any wings or losing feathers and yet braking before hitting the ground too. All to distract the intruder, and what a distraction! 

Of course the first cast in the new swim produced more of the same but this was some fighter. I prayed, in some sort of bizarre agnostic fashion, for a dream roach.....

Hybrid. 2-11-5 

Another big canal hybrid eventually relented and slipped into that dream-like state that finds them in the net. A couple more fish followed and an overall catch of over six and a half pounds was returned to the, by then (8.15am), strongly pulling water on conclusion of a brief but most enjoyable dawn to breakfast, pre-B&Q, session

Some chunky fish, now fully recovered from a hard winter but some showing signs of the excitement of spring with absent scales
Roach 1-2-5, 0-15-3, 0-6-0. Bream 1-7-8. RxB Hybrid 2-11-5

SPECIES LIST:
Willow warbler, carrion crow, blackbird, woodpigeon, mallard, moorhen, magpie, blackcap (singing, and female viewed), skylark, chaffinch, lapwing, bullfinch, reed bunting, jackdaw, dunnock, greenfinch, mistle thrush, goldfinch, collared dove, swallow, indet gull, wren, blue tit, robin, house sparrow.
Roach, bronze bream, (roachXbream hybrid).

If Saturday had been dream-like then Sunday was the real thing. Another early alarm call but this time ten minutes earlier to allow a longer walk should the opportunity present itself, as no decision would be made on destination until the wheels were turning. Last time this road was taken a barn owl was seen scattering jackdaws and this time it was in the same spot and slipped over a farm gate between trees to vanish into the mist

Only a few hundred yards on, Volpone trotted across the metalled surface with his bunny and disappeared into the darkness of the hedge destined to cause mayhem amongst the waiting cubs no doubt

I hadn't visited this stretch since match angling had lost its gloss but recalled two things quite vividly a match winning perch taken on half a pinkie in the depths of winter and an asthma attack from the long walk in a heavy frost; a day of extremes!

Similarities with today were initially limited to the frost with the fields white-over at 5am but soon cleared as the air warmed with the cloud cover that approached gently from the north-east. Mist gently drifted across the water as I approached an S-bend I had not seen for over twenty years, an area where I had learnt bread punch fishing by trial and error (and a few magazine articles) as a teenager

A narrowboat floated in the mist as if a cake decoration on icing with a deep ribbon of the frozen green field below. Soon the sky turned orange as the sun rose together with a number of large fish beneath the growing cloud cover and dramatically illuminated the whole scene with growing concentric rings of each topping specimen glinting gold

Rooks were the first birds to show as they ferried more beetles than the land can concievably support back to their young in bulging bald beaks. The first lift-bite came five to ten minutes in when a vigorous fight culminated in a noticeably silver fish coming to the surface, no hint of blue to the scales. A large silver bream pulled the scales down to 1-3-6, a sliver off the PB, and the best start imaginable

The first skylark took to the wing to declare the day open for business as a number of blackbirds practiced their own tunes from a variety of perches near and far

The worm line, 15 yards to the right at the bottom of the near shelf, was subject to the 'sleeper wand' but first cast the bait did not hit the bottom before a violent twang of the tip resulted in the hooking of a superb fat spring Dandy of the Stream resplendent in striped tunic and collapsible battlements. An all canals PB at 1-13-5

It was then fish for fish on the two lines but the undoubted highlight was yet another PB hybrid, where are they all coming from, and do they fight?! The seemingly impossible four pounds ceiling shattered by this fish of 4-2-3

The rest of the session was usurped by the bird life and a steady stream of smaller perch on the 'tip seemed somewhat insignificant as a mysterious repetitive warbling seeped from a scrubby patch to the left. Wandering along using the hedge as cover a closer view was attempted but the culprit was deep inside the thorns so I returned to my own perch but not before a pair of tree sparrows chirped their way from an ash to a field hedge in a landscape that has always been something of stronghold for them despite their apparent recent decline

Another hybird came to the net on the wand, this one 1-11-3 and swiftly followed by a good roach on the float, which seemed fairly modest until lying in the net, of 1-2-0

Soon though the warbling moved to a bramble patch with few leaves and gave the ideal opportunity have have another go. With all the stealth of a penguin in clogs I ventured closer and could see movement as the songster headed toward the camera. By this time the iPhone app had confirmed that the sound was made by a lesser whitethroat, all that was missing was a good sighting to ink-in the tick. Then suddenly, and equally briefly, he was all but in the open and a couple of long-lens record shots were reeled-off. Result!

Over eleven pounds of clonkers in a mixed bag including a few small perch out of shot and the surreal period of North Oxford Canal angling continues

What to make of this quality of fishing before the boat activity starts? Well, that's another story...

SPECIES:

Barn owl, red fox, skylark, tree sparrow, blackbird, indet gull, rook, mallard, moorhen, canada goose, dunnock, reed bunting, great tit, wren, chaffinch, lapwing, lesser whitethroat, kestrel, silver bream, roach, perch, rXb hybrid