those Perpetual Buses

I am left wondering how many times one can be amazed at events and not lose one's verve

In the past three weeks my local waterway the, somewhat modest, North Oxford Canal has produced surprise after surprise

I had been seeking big roach and caught the biggest yet; at the same time broken my bronze bream record for the canal of the third time in a year; taken a zander of 2lbs 9ozs on the perch rig and frequently weighed in three good roach and/or hybrids for over 3lbs. No.7 buses and all that

Last week the current PB bream of 3-2-6, 2 roach to 1-0-3 and 3 zander to 2-9-14 went 7-11-0 between them and comprised another stat to make the eyes water compared to my distant, but thankfully well recorded, memories of 'the old days' when two to three pounds of smaller fish was a good weight

Fisheries scientists would have us believe that a water can hold a certain biomass of species supported by the available food sources. This is to say that, in loose terms, the weight of fish in a water would be roughly the same whether they be thousands of tiny gudgeon or, say, five big carp. Obviously it can't be quite that simplistic as the natural food requirements of species varies but, assuming for now that they all have the same quantity of food available to them, the weight of the five carp would roughly match the weight of the shoal of gudgeon

So the regularity with which the three fish for three pounds scenario has occurred set me thinking about this subject and it came up in conversation with long-lost former colleague of the angle Richard, walker of the towpaths (Note the careful use of a comma, not Richard Walker, thoughtful about angling though he is). He concurred that this did seem to be the case and that if averaged out one's big fish catches of today they would balance with those of yesteryear

Now today was exceptional (again!). Having not been able to sleep for reasons I will not go into I was up and at 'em by 04.20 and actually had a line in the water at 6am on a wide shallow bend where, I had hoped, I might get the odd bite on bread while I built-up a worm swim on the inside a ten metre cast to the right

The early ambience seemed quite idyllic. Light frost, misty water, not a breath of wind, not a cloud in the sky and could that be fish bubbling? As I stared topping clonkers started to swirl, two to the right and a bigger one to the left. Suddenly I was all of a dither getting the line through the rings and had to rethread the top two eyes twice; an extra helping of mashed bread went in the middle and, for the time being the worm option was forgotten

Lift bite method on roach rod was prepped and cast in. The float settled and then unsettled, a somewhat over-zealous early strike and the rig shot out of the water and hit the towpath...fishless, of course

Now I was unsettled, action was not usually this immediate and, after all, I had introduced enough bread to cater for an average village cricket tea. More bubbles, more topping fish. How long before the first boat, would it be early? The float was projected back to 'the spot' which, given the amount of feed, was more like 'the rash'. I was dreaming a Crabtree dream that a nice big capital 'R' lay on the water. The float lifted immediately and dropped just as quickly, then, I swear, it waggled before my very eyes (tempted to launch into Shakespeare here but will resist, just as I had resisted the wand of his name and worms for now). 'Strike!'. The rod bent double

This was a hard-fighting fish, and of some substance. The rod, made originally for 2-3 ounce roach, was at it's limit. The fish powered around and I was tempted to think I might actually be attached to a small carp, rare an occurence though that might be (never before). Then it's head appeared - orange eye, blue irridescence to the scales.Then it's enormity. "H-h-huh" a deep inward breath of physical shock. "It's huge, it's way over two pounds and it's a roach. Take it easy", I told myself and after a couple of false dawns it approached the net and, in it's last tunnelling attempt to escape - those fins. Hmm, those fins look a bit pale, but man was it big? It was big

This post was temporarily withdrawn while the hybrid was studied further in conjunction with Jeff Hatt who is now very kindly seeking further advice on my behalf. It is possible, just possible, that the hybrid may be a diseased roach. If so the implications are unbearable to imagine and so in the interim (and frankly the true answer will likely never be known) it remains a hybrid. Back to the tale...

Two hands lifted the net out and for the first time I regarded this wide-beam would-be roach, thing. Not your average hybrid this. In fact, to this minute, I am not sure what it is, not recalling a hybrid of this appearance before. Could it have been rudd/bream? [One for Jeff Hatt of Idler's Quest blogspot to ruminate over I suspect]. My conclusion at present is front end roach, rear end bream

By this time it was 6.10am. Next cast met with another instantly missed bite, most unusual on this method, but, on re-entry, another solid bruiser of a fish was on. He tried a new tactic - spin in circles and thrash the water. It didn't work. The largest North Oxford Canal bream I had ever set eyes on (again!) sought freedom but with an almighty heave of the inadequate rod it was in the pan and mine to keep, 3-9-3 and seven ounces over last week's PB

More peculiar bites ensued and the penny dropped - spawning bream shoal present = line bites. At 6.25 another was hooked as a hint of sunlight crept over the low horizon in front and to the east. The shafts of light heightened the magnitude of the mist drifting by as this third monster of the morning hit the surface and sparks of unimaginably eye-stinging brightness hit the retina. This chap was initially more of a plodder but once at the surface panic set-in, in the fish that is not me, well, a little in me maybe

As I placed this third three pound fish of the day into the pegged-out keepnet a trance-like atmosphere descended over proceedings and when the float settled again into the gleaming steaming mirror I could not focus. Three fish for around ten pounds in half an hour, what would be next?

Nothing.

The sun is up, the grass is ris,

I wonder where them breamy's is?

Well, them breamy's have switched-off, that's what's happened!
At 6.45 it was time to give the tip a go and despite having a couple of twangs on a whole lob nothing could be struck at. Slowly the bird life became noticebale, a fox had wandered to it's lair in brambles to my right earlier on and I had barely noticed. I had passed the pair of them sat upright in the middle of a field on the way to the parking spot and wished my camera was not in my roving rucksack

Over two more hours passed before the first boat. It was The Cheese Boat, and this time they spoke, they offered to bring the chips, cheesy ones presumably. In this wierd 'after the Lord Mayor's show' period it was mating and fighting time. Two pair of water hen took a dislike to each other while great spotted woodpeckers drummed and chased among the trees, skylark, woodpigeon, great tit, wren and chaffinch sang for their reproductive lives and rabbits...behaved like rabbits

At the weigh-in the mongrel fish looked, on the face of it, considerably smaller than the two matching bookend bream (now there's a thought) but it was so solid and thickset it was no surprise when it trailed just a couple of ounces behind them at 3-5-6. It's constituent parts will probably never be confirmed but I am content that it was not the average roachXbream

Although two (fish-)lifeless hours had passed before I walked the jouney back to the car this too was enlivened by the presence of a notably fat blackcap at close quarters immediately followed by a pair of bullfinch in summer attire. A great end to another quite unbelievable trip and the weight of those fish almost matched that of a shoal of roach I had been lucky enough to chance upon from the same peg some fifteen to twenty years prior, matching biomass, different species

It's all there if we look for it

Species list:
Fox, rabbit, bronze bream, moorhen, mallard, dunnock, blackbird, chaffinch, goldfinch, bullfinch, skylark, wren, great spotted woodpecker, great tit, blue tit, long tailed tit, carrion crow, woodpigeon, blackcap

Going Back for More

Striding-out through the base of the deep cutting in the half-light under the continuous giant many-fingered interlocking ash hands over-arching, accompanied by the crashing alarms of pheasant, ring and stock dove as they burst from their slumber into the ever more intrusive light of the day the angler emerged into the steaming, rolling pasture shaped in sine wave undulations by all but forgotten generations of man labouring over his livelihood in the truest sense of the word. 

 

Two centuries old canal courses abandoned either side of the now healed scar that is the straight and then snaking course of the contemporary route of the canal

It was here, in the depths of the incessant deluge of a year ago, that he vowed to return. That had been a day of reacquaintance, of water coloured like tea with too much milk and four whirlpools left by the rudders of fish that could only be imagined, and certainly never seen, but of sufficient imagined magnitude to inspire the need to 'go back'. 

The damp air drifted uncomfortably across his face as the earth's furnace strove to burn through the blankets that insulate it. At first it failed.

The angler had struggled with his burden these one and a third miles, yet, as the coolness faded into day, tiny birds sang their hearts out after flying from as far as Africa on no more than a stomach, as small as it's mates imminent eggs, filled with flies

 

This land was cleared no more than five millennia prior as the need to sustain the anglers' wider ancestral growth took hold and the staple of that advance so long ago would be the basis of this man's stealth on this day - bread

Prevailing circumstances were all but perfect, perhaps a tinge too much colour in the water though insufficient to dampen belief

 

Handfuls of wetted bread were tossed into the water and the challenge of enticing those monsters of before commenced

 

Half an hour had passed when the first sign of interest produced a strong battle from a cross-bred fish that broke through the silence as innumerable tail-splashes punctuated the surface film. Eventually it was beaten and a hybrid of a pound and a quarter gently dropped into a waiting net

 

The hint of chugging boat and then confirmation as the prow became visible to him in the shrouded cutting. Reed bunting, robin and blue tit set up their incessant spring choruses as fieldfares chuckled in the hedges contemplating the long route home and the prospect of furthering their kind

 

Two boats in quick succession gently slipped past as the angler rested and took sustenance welcomed after the strain of the journey. A large lion-like hound nudged his arm as he stumbled through the perforated hedge behind followed by a kind-hearted and jolly white-bearded man with a tail or two to share. As they departed on their purposeful expedition a muntjac barked by the disused cut and caused the dog to briefly attempt to seek it out until brought to heel

Soon the water re-settled and more bread was used to tempt larger fish to find the will to feed, and feed they did. An extravagant bite and a strong tussle with a roach which when it broke the surface triggered the exclaimation, 'Oh, that's a good fish!' and the ensuing great care over it's capture. Captured however it soon was and it clearly was an exceptional canal fish. At a touch over one pound seven ounces this certainly was an excellent specimen and one the angler had sought specifically for over a little over a year. A welcome reward for extensive and intensive effort, and the largest roach he had ever seen from such man-made watercourses in all his years

Francis Lee-Fish

Soon the fish was back where it belonged but not forgotten as a second substantial school mate succumbed immediately after. This one a fraction under a pound but probably not of the same school year

The education here however was simply the present day comparison with the anglers' long-recalled experiences of days gone. Days when a similar net would have comprised 30 or 40 smaller examples of various fishes interspersed with occasional larger intruders, often fledgling bream but a comparable biomass nevertheless and just as scientists would have predicted

 

The three took his scales to three pounds ten ounces which the angler took satisfaction in but no greater pleasure that the barrel chested Francis Lee of a roach, not a perfectly formed beauty but a beauty none the less

Sunlight making the fish look dry but all were carefully returned unharmed by the experience and the wiser for it

Well slept, and keen to avoid disappointment, a contrasting challenge was set as another morning broke. This time with breezes causing the muscles to tense against it. A bend in the same unnatural watercourse some miles to the west was to withstand the onslaught of piscatorial pursuit centred around the conversely natural Earthworm in search of spiny predatory fish

The success of the previous day however encouraged additional persistence with bread to bait an area away from the worms were offered, and at the same time, as the day ahead would bewildering in it's complexity and available hours severely limited
 

A tail of earthworm was laid on the canal bed with sufficient shot simply to tighten to and left to one side. Otherwise thoughts were no more advanced that the approach of the previous day with three handfuls of macerated bread thrown into the middle of this featureless bend

The activity of the fish was all but immediate as a good roach, not quite of the proportions of the fish of yesterday but a fraction over one pound for certain, fought well against the finely balanced rod and line

 

A pied-headed male reed bunting chirped his simple tune, "one, two...testing - one...two, testing" almost within reach, as a pair of buzzard soared over the hill and a chaffinch 'pinked' in the distance

 

Soon the previously still tip pulled extravagantly round to the right and an adversary took delight in plunging to the depths and immediately rising to the surface, shaking it's narrow head violently as the surface foamed in abject resistance to the appearance of this hefty sail-finned gladiator. An alien it was and so was it a monster. The net being only just large enough to accommodate it's torpedo-like two pounds nine ounce form

Following the demise of two further tiny aliens a period of calm descended, disturbed only by passing friends caught up in the excitement of a long-lost relationship over two decades prior but the period was abruptly halted and another large contender picked-up the bread...and ran! A momentary forceful pull with backwind switched-off and tightened clutch appeared to be destined for a parting of ways but the soft through-action of the rod, another old friend, took the power of the lunge and brought a large canal bream to rest, as it floated on the surface it spotted an opportunity to escape but succeeded only in finding the sunken net

A first swallow of the unfolding spring flitted past seeking to replenish the wasted resources of the incredible journey now behind it, for the time being  

At the close of this brief dalliance with the outside world seven fish had been fooled for a combined weight of seven pounds eleven ounces

Yesterdays super-sized roach the biggest from any canal; today's bream the biggest from the North Oxford and the zander just an ounce short of a canal best. Those, combined with further roach approaching and just over a pound, made for an excellent weekend's sport as the angler returns to become husband and father again.

With temperatures on the rise, and more rain in the offing, conditions should be good for the immediate future too. 'Looking good, at long last!

Saturday species list:
Barking muntjac, Bullfinch, Raven, Rook, Carrion crow, Woodpigeon, Stock dove, Mallard, Mute swan, Moorhen, Blue tit, Blackbird, Mistle thrush, Robin, Chiffchaff, Dunnock, Reed bunting, Fieldfare, Blackcap, Skylark, Canada goose, Green woodpecker, Wren, Buzzard, Jackdaw, Roach, RoachX bream hybrid

Sunday species list:
Mallard, mute swan, moorhen, dunnock, swallow, reed bunting, blackbird, goldfinch, buzzard, chaffinch, skylark, great tit, Indet gulls.

The Year Ahead. What will it Bring?

Having openly attracted public humiliation by sharing canal fishing species PB's in the previous post; although readers (if there were any) have been too polite to comment along the lines of, "Well actually I can beat all of those. Where have you been fishing or did you only pursue it as a small child and without any help?" (Maybe there weren't any readers!); it is time to make some use of the list

There pervades a certain wish to have a general go at it ALL, having been somewhat blinkered for the past year, and of course the benefit of the canals being a trifle crusty at present (and no sign of let-up according to the forecast) certainly offers an opportune time to set some goals and have a proper target for the year

One thing not mentioned previously was the staggering number of species caught from the Grand Union which included species like Dace & Bleak, out and out river inhabitants, but which were excluded on the basis of size and suspected accusations of lunacy ,whereas genuine canal species were included, even if quite uncommon, such as the humble (yet gorgeous) crucian, a fish I have taken from canals on at least three occasions in the 'dim & distant'

Roach have had a limited pasting in 2012, not that I used paste you understand...and anyway the wallpaper would float...and so I may perhaps back-off that a little; and the brief dalliance, not to say 'dangliance', with lobworm at the very end of last year has set some kind of other urge and thought pattern running which needs to be satisfied

The question really is whether to target specific fish or just target bigger fish; whether to set-out in pursuit of, say, a big perch or simply to fish positively for big fish generally using baits that perch, zander, bream, tench, etc., might ALL potentially go for and then enjoy the excitement of the possibilities and, that key angling ingredient, uncertainty when the bite is indicated; as opposed, I guess, to the disappointment of it not being the target species

Yes I think that would suit quite well, potential double excitement

On to places to target. The original intention of the blog was the compare the present with the past within a limited local geographical area, that being the landscape character area of Dunsmore & Feldon. Fortunately this covers a good chunk of the list of venues frequented in the past and, as such still fits the bill in an angling sense, even though a few of the bigger fish on the list were taken from the Grand Union around the Northampton/Milton Keynes area. It also however opens up some other locations not previously concentrated on at all which adds spice to the options and includes part of the Grand Union, the conjoined Oxford and Grand Union, North Oxford and South Oxford canals

...and there's still scope to pull in some rivers and the occasional lake by way of a change outside the main focus

Stretch of Grand Union with relatively high head of big fish. Tree-lined, wide and weedy

Specifically, within the recent canal quest, certain pegs have been searched for using aerial mapping. I've generally been looking for wide tight bends where boats will leave some part of the water unaffected even if it gets to be quite busy during the day and this has already shown benefits with the perch and zander fest and tench catches previously posted being two examples. Some such bends I could easily recall but there are areas of canal I no longer clearly remember, it's been so long, which may well benefit from such fish-holding, disturbance-shirking features and Google Earth is a real bonus in that respect

So I think it's very likely that a general big fish approach will be adopted keeping within the location originally intended as far as possible (it was never intended to be an absolute boundary after all) and, hopefully, the excitement at potentially approaching, and even perhaps beating, records of, until they are seen, unknown species will reach fever pitch on occasion! Well, at the very least, one can only hope


References:
Google Earth Pro

It's an Offishial Miracle!

Since the unexpected perch and zander-fest last week things went somewhat down-hill with a long walk to fish a particularly murky North Oxford Canal, wandering well into the wilderness beyond the furthest peg ever fished before, at least as far as memory served, to find the canal at that point to be much shallower than anticipated beyond midway and more suited to summer mornings than mid-winter
Bread produced not the slightest twitch and lobworm just the one bite - precisely as the kit was starting to be packed-away which has proven a very reliable tactic of late! This fish and line parted company after it had gently pulled 5m to the left and the suspicion was of zander from the fight it gave

There was more narrowboat activity than last week suggesting that a few had been hired-out for the new year period

The trip was not all wasted however as it served as a recce for a stretch which hadn't been seen for a long, long time. A number of formerly overhanging hawthorns had been completely removed changing the character of one part of the length entirely such that it now holds no angling attraction whatsoever when set against other options on the stretch

Onlookers trying not to be interested

Anyway, undeterred and continuingly encouraged by the mild conditions, another early start next day maintained the recent trend in leaving the house too early and arriving when still too dark to set-up. This provided the benefit to again venture further than normal to the inside of a very wide bend inspired by the result of the session referred to in the introduction above, albeit on a completely different stretch.

The big plus here was that when matches had been held here in the 1980's & 90's this would have been the place to draw. Having said that the results were never alarming but there were always a few better fish to be had in matches where often a couple of pounds of roach would be enough to give an angler a chance of some form of success. For my part I had only drawn near it once, enjoying watching all those on this section weigh-in on the way back past them and having the fact that this was the best area hammered home in a most emphatic manner. At least I had mustered a few ounces of fish and not blanked!

The canal at this point was less cloudy than yesterday, which was expected from experience, but the downside was that the south-westerly was blowing all the scum, slicks, sticks, bottles and logs to this area and what seemed the optimal peg was right in the middle of it! Fishing the pole with big baits would not be too much of a problem however as they could be lowered into gaps in the detritus as appropriate with a fairly heavy-duty rig as usual


Bread flake was fished close to the bottom of the slowly sloping nearside shelf in the knowledge that any disturbance by boats would likely be limited to water from the middle to the piled far bank due to the tightness of the bend and excessive width. The other advantage was that lobworms could be used on the nearside too, to the left and closer-in

Already a method is beggining to evolve using both techniques by fishing bread until at least an hour and a half of the session has expired and then alternating it with lobworm and continuing to feed both lines each time they are left to be rested

Again the bread flake did not produce a single bite and, having had to delay the start due to an early boat just after the initial feed, lobworm also took a while to show any signs. A text had just been sent to The Lady Burton to say how grim it was when a large but sluggish fish was lost, tempted by the tail of a lobbie. It was a good two and a half hours in however before a more powerful fish was hooked even though, on two occasions, fish had pulled at the bait when lifted off the deck (the prospect of popping the worm up off the bottom has a distinct ring to it for future trips)

The fish lead a merry dance and despite being zander-like at first became more and more intense in it's fight taking quite some while to tire. By the time any glimpse of it was seen I had manged to convince myself I had absolutley no idea what it could be other than a somewhat oddly fighting perch perhaps

The battle continued with the fish moving right then left, trying to get under the keepnet, stirring-up the bottom of the soft, silty, shallow near shelf etc., and still I could not pin-down the species for certain but by this time chub was probably favourite; some were caught within 20 pegs in 'the old days' and the three fish which had crashed on the surface earlier in the session between middle and far bank to the immediate left were maybe the most likely culprits...but then they do of course tend to give up the ghost somewhat resignedly after a while

Eventually a tail flicked visibly near the surface as the fish burrowed downwards away from the poised net, black and rounded, what was it?

Then that unmistakable greeny-gold frantic muscular flexibility of the fish was apparent...tench!

Now at this point the history of angling on the North Oxford, as known, flashed past and although I must confess a passer-by had volunteered that a guy had caught one 'much to his surprise, he didn't know there were any in here' in the summer - this was last time I parked at this bridge - I had immediately blanked that out as either fluke or fabrication

The fish was still not ready however and a desperate surge straight out, as they tend to, but at surface level had it behaving like a dolphin until the elastic brought it back under some form of control when the pole was lowered and it came closer within reach

So to say that catching a tench here, or anywhere on the 20-odd miles of this canal is unusual would be quite the understatement of 2013 even this early in the year. Recollection goes back to around 1975 and although there was a gap from around 1996 to 2011 I had never heard of one caught let alone seen one until the above anecdote

Care was now everything. Ol' rubber lips was not to be lost as this, in it's own way, was almost literally the fish of a lifetime, no matter how large and frankly it didn't look huge.

Soon, after a couple of last second escape bids, it was in the net and an audible chuckle accompanied it. At the very moment it was weighed at 1-11-13 and the genuine extreme rarity was gently introduced to the keepnet

As things tend to go with angling the rig was then flicked out in front, rebaited, and immediately a 6 ounce perch was hooked as the pole was pushed out. Next put-in a roach of around 8 ounces came off the hook as it came to the net

A lull followed until another bite and another similar fight to the tench, it couldn't be of course. If the first one couldn't have been how could this? It clearly wasn't as large but it was no less energetic and took some time to tame, again, but after an exciting little duel the extreme rarity count was doubled and instantly upgraded to an offishial miracle!

This one went 1-3-11 and had a faint heart-shaped mark on it's underside. Both fish also had inch-long damage stripes on their flanks, could this be cormorant evidence? I can think of no other reason for the linear grey indentations on their scales and a few were seen to fly overhead as they headed for lakes to the north

Isn't Christmas great?

Today's bird list:
Moorhen, mallard, buzzard, lesser black-backed gull, indet gulls, cormorant, blackbird, fieldfare, woodpigeon, green woodpecker, great-spotted woodpecker, kingfisher, starling, chaffinch, pied wagtail, carrion crow, raven, magpie, meadow pipit

The Interlude

Having had a lesson in the craft of what one might (and not in any derogatory way) describe as old-fashioned rod & line fishing from Jeff Hatt two or three weeks ago, which you can mug-up on here
http://idlersquest.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/canal-roach-bream-gentlemans-exchange.html
and even here, if you so desire,
http://idlersquest.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/canal-roach-suns-burning-your-eyes-out.html
I was tempted to roll back the years as they say or, as it transpired, roll back the eyes

Which reminds me of that time when someone on TV said (it may have been Harry Hill, I don't recall) "...and now the next episode of Casualty in which this week Charlie has an operation to stop his eyes rolling about in his head". Totally irrelevant, but it made me laugh at the time!

There was a time, in all modesty, when my rod & line skills were admired, admittedly mainly by passing Jack Russels and small children, but that makes it no less true to say. So I thought the prospect of combining my, still quite new, Avon rod with the, now compulsory, lift bite method would be a doddle. Jeff made it look easy and so, therefore, would I

When I turned-up without the customary blue dalek to sit on, without the matching blue matchman's (there must be a pun there but I just can't quite see it) rod, bait and net bags, my recently constant angling companion, who shall not be named for reasons which will be revealed later, was drawn to somewhat unfavourable words along the lines of 'goodness what unusual kit you have there', i.e. river roving gear of rucksack, ready set-up rod and reel, and nets

We had chosen probably the most consistently productive area of the N Oxford cut I am aware of and although in the past I was never fortunate enough to draw bang-on it in a match, as far as I recall, I do distinctly remember some good catches in between times including one net of over 10lbs of big roach on a red letter day when they just happened to all be in front of me and taking any bait almost anywhere I put the hook.

So this was to be a big roach expedition on rod and line

The early morning pre-narrowboat hiatus (can you have an hiatus before something?) was the customary target time and we arrived at around 5am to be fishing by 5.15. This week was my friends turn to chose the swim he preferred and I would make do with the hand I was dealt; using not inconsiderable logic, he sat opposite a dense willow to shield the rising sun from his eyes...'didn't think of that and I sat in the open between trees to have my inner eye scorched as the morning progressed. Fortunately the car now knows the way back and I didn't need to look, and furthermore, as I've been surviving on one bite one fish tactics of late, seeing the float wouldn't matter too much either

The plan wasn't just restricted to the rod. I also intended to try baiting three swims with the mashed centre of a tin loaf rather than sliced bread and even went so far as to leave the sliced bread back at ChezNous so that I wouldn't be tempted, it's the only way sometimes. So I would then have to use real flake on the hook too, my God!

The morning was quite glorious, if chilly, but you can't have early sun without the associated cold let in by the lack of that insulating blanket of cloud over the countryside, or, more to the point, heat let out by it. A deep mist lay over the water as we drove down and it lingered longer than normal on yet another in a string of breeze less occasions. Water colour looked good but sub-surface visibility was down to only about 4-6", not ideal for bread but good enough to suggest we would get the odd bite

                        

Having prepped what little bit of gear I had brought I proceeded to feed what was to be my initial swim and then wandered along to two further pegs I would be able to remember due to distinguishing features without the need to mark the ground and did the same

The next half hour was spent trying to get the float suitably settled as the surface drag was stronger than I had anticipated with the early lack of breeze but this did increase as the session wore-on and a heavier rig eventually solved the problem with a no.1 shot necessary on the bottom (no, really!) and a string of no.4's as bulk above it giving the long cane-bristled slender-bodied waggler an option to lift if the fish nosed-down to pick up the bait and then righted itself simultaneously picking the shot off the bottom. Well, that's the theory, the same one I have been employing a touch more subtly on the pole

So I gave it 30 minutes in the first swim and then 20 in the next two

Zilch

As I returned to swim 1 to suffer the sun a touch more the (angling) Artist formerly known as The Old Duffer was netting a fish taken on what he terms 'the poacher's pole' dangled in the side. It rarely fails and usually succeeds in snaring the odd perch, but not today, as 14.5ozs of slimline roach was plundered. It originated as a freshwater crayfish catching method many years ago using bacon but now those protected species are in such decline that we never see one

What did surprise us though was a deep croaking sound from the base of the willow he was sat opposite. Three or four slow croaks in series like a jumbo frog, it couldn't surely be a woodcock but sure enough when I fired-up the iPhone app of bird sounds it was exactly that and also confirmed that we have had them from time to time in the marshy field next to our house from whence The Lady Burton and I have heard that self-same sound in the night. Another tick for the garden, having long since dispensed grappling with the argument as to whether a 'hearing' counts as a 'sighting', well obviously it isn't technically a sighting but it is 'a tick'

So by the time I had got into the swing of fishing swim one again the dew on the Avon rod was so severe as to seriously impede casting as the line stuck to the blank. This took me right back to something I learnt at the age of about 12-13 when it was explained to me that match rods had eyes with longer legs to stop the line sticking to the blank and with lighter gear this was essential in rain or dew otherwise you wouldn't be able to cast. This had evaded my memory until this moment but if I were to try it again it would be with a different rod (and I probably will, 'can't be defeated can we?)

Eventually the float plopped into the right spot and on the second cast, to my great surprise I have to confess, the float popped-up and a lump was hooked. The beauty of this method is that the bites are almost literally unmissable it seems. This fish put up a real battle and I had greater difficulty bringing it to heel than a couple of river chub in March, a somewhat chubby round the midriff in fact, bronze bream was drawn over the net by which time matey boy had ventured closer to see what was talking so long to land. The fish went 2-5-8 as shown in the picture below and was followed by a pounder after I had revisited the other swims again after re-baiting them as I left them first time round, some twenty minutes later

No roach nor indeed any further bread bites, apart from the middle bits I nibbled myself, a child-like trait I have never shaken-off. Having endured four consecutive sessions without a fish a month ago I have now not missed a bite on bread in at least three trips...albeit I am only averaging marginally better than one bite per trip! Fishing throws up almost as many bizarre and pointless records as cricket, if you want it to. "That is the first bream of 2-5-8 I've ever had at 7.25am while wearing a blue shirt in May", staggering.

A last cast on caster as I packed away resulted in a missed bite with two casters on the hook and one of them coming back crushed, probably by a confidently feeding roach. So be it, it was time to leave to get the boys to cricket practice anyway, why they want to bother I've no idea as all of the games are washed-out anyway

A Frosty Reception

The frost was heavy at dawn this morning. I hadn't expected to need to scrape the windscreen before I headed to rendezvous with The Old Duffer at pegs the image of which I nursed in my mind all week. I was glad for the heavy duty winter gear The Lady Burton had invested in a couple of Christmases back but, as I stepped out from the warmth of the car, I was more concerned at the sight of those pegs being taken by narrowboats than the cold

I did make myself £5 richer however as I had bet myself that no matter how early I got up he would beat me there. It must be where my competitive instinct comes from, although I try to limit mine to the actual fishing where possible! Sure enough, given that we were going to be fishing together, he had done the obvious thing and walked past the boats to the next available swims. Sadly however the perceived potential was minimal so far from the bridge where he himself had taken roach of 1-15-0 and perch of 1-7-0 in the past. These pegs would produce 30-40 mixed small fish for just over a pound in matches when I was a teenager in about 1980 and by the time I left the scene again in the mid to late '90's, the zander having eaten those little chaps, it was ounces unless the odd netter interrupted the struggle

Consequently the optimism was not exactly oozing but the thick drifting mist hanging over the water, the lambs and young rabbits friskily frolicking in the field opposite, goldfinches again twittering in a tree nearby and the general feeling of isolation at dawn while the masses sleep were enough to make it worthwhile in themselves but, nevertheless, the prospect of a decent fish on the new-found method was always there and the confidence in it from last week's inaugural session was going to carry me through this one, even if it was blank

Plumbing-up it was predictably shallower here than where I fished last week but shallower still than I expected with the deepest channel only about 2m wide and then steeply shelving opposite. I planned to fish at the bottom of the far slope and put in a blob of bread crumb with some mashed bread at that point where a dark reflection also allowed a good view of the float tip

Unusually for bread, bites were not immediately forthcoming and the first came when resorting to a small cube of crust which, somehow, a 2oz roach managed to squeeeze into it's mouth and ended-up in the net. One more missed bite and it was time to top-up the feed. Meanwhile The Old Duffer (or TOD, as he might now be known, for short...but not for long) softly whistled and pointed out a big roach rolling halfway between us. Soon after this a proper exaggerated lift-bite caused the usual state of shock in me but I soon realised what this meant(!) and struck into something which took some elastic and then soon took on the feel of a struggling roach

Attempting an action shot while the fish approached the net with an imaginary third hand (me, not the fish) almost resulted in the camera disappearing in the mist but somehow all remained intact and a not exactly pristine roach with some blackspot around its head was engulfed by the net. Not a pounder, which is now the level at which satisfaction can be certain, but it looked around 12ozs and, more importantly, boosted confidence in having another

Ice, net, roach... the beginnings of a new fruitstone-counting rhyme

A lack of subsequent bites however prompted a further feed introduction, and while I wandered along to my fishing partner avoiding the punctuations of yesterday's dog walking laziness he too had a bite and landed an 8-10oz perch on a banker pinkie line, near-side of middle. (Last week I referred to perch as footballers...this week I discover there is a Newcastle United player called, wait for it...Perch). This short trip signalled the end of the fishing action for the early morning as a pair of skylark headed north-east overhead given away by their distinctive contact calls. I had tried a larger piece of flake but a touch of River Leam deja vue occurred when it failed to be sunk by the shot I was using. The far shelf deserved a spot of feed late-on but with no bites, and a boat approaching soon after, it was time to consider delivering Parps to his Rugby match

The roach, by now affectionately known as 'Spot', was weighed at 11ozs and returned to the water with the his little pink-finned colleague and we contemplated the pegs we couldn't fish plus a couple of others on the opposite side of the bridge (from which we would have had a host of big fish of course!) as we sauntered back

Not the prettiest roach you'll ever see but perfectly good enough when the odds are against you

This stretch, or perhaps the whole of the N. Oxford, was habitually electro-fished at least annually by British Waterways in the days when it mattered to them to ensure that people fished there, when stretches were leased and rents were due to be paid, and a commercials were TV ad's. The zander were removed if overpowered by the electrical current at about 12ozs plus and transported for eating in accordance with the law and the population of fish was fairly stable, if artificially so (having said that the population with zander present was artificially so too of course), albeit that it was an ageing cohort. Now I wonder whether if I were of such a mind to fish for smaller fish what would be present these days, I had caught 13ozs of fish while actively avoiding any littl'uns here? On my three trips to the canal thus far there have been a few small fish topping nearby each time, things will reach a new natural balance eventually just as we now see far fewer mink than in the late 70's and early 80's. A dusk wander along some of the more suitable stretches for 'bits' might answer the question more easily as they indulge in their late evening topping ceremony in mild weather, at least then the big fish hunt can continue without disturbance!


Despite the presence of some competition the Golden Maggot was not mentioned today nor did it need to be as we only scraped 1 species each anyway

[Species list: Wren, skylark, dunnock, great tit, indeterminate gull, mallard, carrion crow, mistle thrush, robin, blackbird, goldfinch, chaffinch, woodpigeon, rabbit, roach, perch.

1st swallow of the year at Dunchurch on the way home.]