TOWPATH MUDBATH

The Blogger's Challenge has reached a climatic impasse with the multifunctional weather restricting viable options for the time being

The rivers Avon and Leam have regularly visited local pastures and left behind remnants of their presence. The dropping temperatures have resulted in two Stillwater trips without so much as a sucked maggot. The canals have been reluctant to relinquish control of their inhabitants in the few areas not blighted by strong winds or heavily coloured water

Decisions on venues have been taxing with aerial mapping, weather forecasting and dawn/dusk app's taking a pasting prior to each trip

Yesterday and today, with winds of 20-odd mph and rain forecast, stretches of cut were selected which would not carry a great deal of suspended silt and that would be equally comfortable to fish

In terms of tactics, knowing that bites would be limited and experimentation therefore pointless, bread and lobworms would be my choices

Saturday, as I approached the likely area along the muddied towing path before first light, the turbidity looked healthily tinged for bread and equally suitable for worm. Justification possible

This area of the Grand Union was known to be populated by good bream and with a three pounder having eluded me all season another crack would not be time wasted given the lack of other options

A new bucket of lobworms had arrived this week offering fresh opportunity for predator fishing but previously little success had been found in this location, not that this was going to prevent trying

As usual of late, bites weren't instant but the 45 minute rule was again proven correct as a plodding lump was hooked after a hideously extravagant lift of the float signalled action approximately half an hour in but that was to be that

The worm line proved more entertaining as showers swept through and, thankfully, over the brolly I had taken the unusual trouble to pack and carry. A flurry of zander around the pound mark tore into the worm feed and bait but then that too went predictably quiet as daylight set fully in

Today it was to be the North Oxford Canal and I headed for the usual length for when the more attractive stretches are coloured by rain but, having fished there too many times over the last few waterlogged weeks and bored myself, it was time to turn right at the bridge and by way of variety. The breeze caught the surface in that unkempt 'too unsettled to ripple' manner the air has of creating false bow waves and depressions on the surface. Then, on the bend, rippling and a real chill

I toyed with a peg in the open opposite rushes but decided on a spot between a high hedge behind me and small willow and thorn bushes opposite. The far side looked shallow but there was a promising depth down the boat run and so it was this that I attacked, but then that will be no surprise.

Bread straight in front with mash spread over a five foot circle and chopped lobworm to my right toward the base of the near shelf

On this occasion bites were instant and it took some effort to drag my eyes away from the indicators to clock the various ravens, identifiable by their equally varied voices, flying back and forth over the raised landscape to the north of me. A good fight, not a bream, not a perch (on bread it wouldn't be), but the red fins were of course the give way. Another of those fish with an orange tinge to its flesh, this time on the chin. This one was going-on the for a pound and a perfect start to the day

From this moment for 30 further minutes both rods were very active and, as per a similar recent event, at one point I had a bite on the tip while landing a bream of 2.7.8. I netted the bream and then struck into and played a perch of 1.11.8 until it was beaten. I then hung it in the side against the quiver-tip with it pulling, weakened, against the rod along the near shelf while I unhooked the bream and then netted the perch and popped it too into the net

Common gulls occasionally swept down over the canal presumably sighting my struck-off pieces of bread but then turning sharply away upon realising that I was the source of these inadvertent offerings. The ever-present moorhens however were keen to steal them and delicately peck them to manageable pieces under the overhanging branches of the far bank

The fish kept coming for around three quarters of an hour with bites on whole lobs more closely spaced that the more intermittent yet very certain enquiries on bread flake and, with the smallest fish at eleven ounces the catch soon built-up although as many bites were missed on lobs due to the huge size of bait I was using, but, with a challenge canal perch of 2.11.0 already on the board, only a bigger one or a decent zander will trouble the virtual scorer

Again a couple of dogs were affeared of this hunkering shape by the water and one refused to come past me altogether. Yesterday a strange looking presumed spaniel-cross mutt with divergent eyes came right up and barked like a lunatic as I chatted to it. Prior to that a massively chunky golden retriever was equally on the back foot until it saw a friendly face under the hat and then was happy to approach on the way back. No bread was stolen this weekend though, oh no. When you're down to your last couple of slices...

So as the bites petered-out and with two dog walkers coming from the right I heard someone else passing from the left in extremely rustly clothing.

"Had much?", came the question.

I looked up to see a lure angler standing by my side right on the waters edge. Respect for other anglers came to mind but I kept my own counsel.

"A few bream", I replied, then "Oh, you're lure angling? I've had some decent perch on worm too if it's any help" (I could be polite at least).

Distracted by his presence I had not noted the first narrow-boat after day-break in stealth mode from the left but quickly removed both rods from the water.

His accomplice appeared, older and, seemingly somewhat better versed in angling etiquette, he stood back, albeit he was wearing red. Why is it that some lure anglers need no watercraft or subtle cladding and yet the rest of us can instinctively feel the fish drifting away if we make any kind of false move? I appreciate the technique requires a certain prominence to make it physically possible but really  

Off they wandered bemoaning the fact that my bites had dried-up and that they hadn't got up early enough. For my part I decided, "Time for breakfast" and exclaimed as such to yet another passer-by. Honestly I don't think anyone nearby could have slept Saturday night; there were two cyclists and a dog walker through with head-torches before it even got light, while I was unpacking the car in fact. Surely we anglers have the divine right to be there first. After all it's our job isn't it? What is going on out there?!

I slowly wiped the sloppy mud off everything in this quagmire of a length of bank and awaited the moment when no one was in sight to empty the net. The lure anglers came back past...nothing

"Do you tend to lose many lure's on snags in the canal?", I asked

"Not as many as we used to", came the reply

Make of that what you will

I shared the fact that The Boy Wonder had caught a pair of pants on two maggots last week, which summed-up our combined blanks, and off they went pushing more fish along in front of them

Many moons ago regular winter matches were run on the Leicester Line, or Arm, of the Grand Union in Northants and, early mornings, the water would often be quite clear. It was no coincidence that the anglers on the end pegs or those pegged where the towpath was shrouded in bushes, boats or rushes, would catch 'all' the fish. No, watercraft is not optional if one wishes to make the most of one's opportunities and maintain those of others

Anyway back to the subject. As I slopped around like a wallowing carp eventually the path cleared and I was able to lift the fish out to weight them one-by-one as I put them back. Five bronze bream, three perch and the roach. 9 fish for around fourteen pounds, six ounces and all caught before 8.30 a.m. when sunrise is at 07.30hrs. I couldn't recall my best catch from the NOXC but it wouldn't be far off this one way or the other

Then I had the idea of photographing one as it slipped out of my hand into the water...

It didn't go well

So as regards challenge points. I, for the fourth consecutive time, only managed to add the odd point for a three ounces larger bream than before. It really is getting difficult now and until the weather becomes more settled that will not change

I, somewhat sadly, took the trouble to estimate (if things went perfectly to mid-May) that I would still be some twenty points behind Russell Hilton who is in second place overall, but you never know, miracles have already happened to many in the competition this season and so there will be others yet I am sure

Mouse Update:
New babies for my birthday

Bubble and squeak

Bubble is black with two white circles and squeak is golden. Training will commence this week

Christmas is here and the Fish are getting Festively Fat

 

 

The Christmas period has not been quite what one would have hoped on the piscatorial front, notwithstanding those who are, and have been, flooded-out of their precious homes in various parts of the country. Unthinkable for those fortunate enough to have been spared as we have in these parts

The river was to be my personal target but it soon struck-out into the fields, after I finished that which must be done to earn one's daily Warburton's blue, and has pretty much stayed there since thanks to regular bursts of heavy rain

So from wet stuff to White Stuff it was. Armed with wrigglers and then vouchers to pass the time

This was on my Christmas list and didn't materialise...
 

 

...but these beauties did!

The canal may therefore seem an obvious refuge under such circumstances but the eastern end of the cut, which, again, I had ear-marked for the break, would be unfishable due to the heavy colour it takes-on. It would be the western part below the locks that would have to be concentrated on, and this would limit possibilities

I did very gratefully receive a wide array of bird feeders to set-up in the currently overgrown garden of the new house at Christmas though. This followed a seriously hot bonfire that cleared a good chunk of the debris

Some of the feeders became instant squirrel magnets but, thankfully, others are proofed from the pilferers. No major surprises have been spotted as yet but when it gets seriously cold, and I understand that process may well start tonight, that is bound to change. Highlights so far have been a wintering male blackcap, green and great spotted woodpecker, coal and long-tailed tit and fifteen collared dove sheltering in the apple tree away from yesterdays gales.

A pictoral record of the few trips and interludes of the past week or so follows:

The above 4 photos all from the same early session on a peg that has, as yet, produced no fish under a pound that I recall. Hybrid 2lbs, perch 1lb 14ozs, zander 1lb 4ozs (and that boosts my Blogger's challenge score by 1 point - big news!)

A single bite at dusk produced this cracking roachXbream hybrid of 2.10.0 on the next trip.

Two consecutive catches above dominated by, apparently current or recently spawning, perch to 1.6.4

Biggest roach of the week came today at 1.3.14. A spotty youth at that.

Have a Great New year all!

The Risks of Canal Angling Prevail

The risk in canal angling comes when conditions dictate that an unusual approach is required and this weekend's strong gales brought about that very situation

Firstly we are lucky in that our local canal bends round the east end of town and there is always somewhere one can hide from the wind, be that fall-out from either sag aloo or storm Desmond

Saturday, dawn:
Severe prevailing winds usually mean that the traditionally best pegs on the cut are perfect and in my case I tend to use such circumstances as an excuse to visit

(My) conventional tactics of lift bite bread rig and lobworm on the tip poured a touch under ten pounds of multicoloured offerings into the mythical net. Hybrids to 1.5.8, Roach to 0.15.12, Perch to 1.10.8 and a solitary zander of 1.2.10 made up the two-rod catch

Most memorable moment was kneeling to disgorge the best roach and finding the tip pulling gently round, so netting the zander with the roach already in there. The trials of fishing two rods when both lines are active!

Part of the evening was spent contemplating how to take full advantage of a good few hours spare the next day. This was where the risk came in.

The Boy Wonder was keen to try to get some angling action having been out of it for much of the season thus far with various injuries and illnesses, but after a number of late nights wasn't keen to get up early, so we decided I'd go early and then come back to fetch him for a short session, midday

Sunday, dawn:
The map indicated that a good few miles of canal I'd rarely, if ever, fished before would be safe from me either being blown in or over, and there I headed. First peg on a turning bay had cables over and they looked quite close so, although it was still dark and I could see no signs, I decided life would be the deciding factor as Parps wouldn't get his trip out later if I was charcoal and moved-on.

Five minutes later I pulled-up in a silent, yet remarkably full, pub car park and set off to fish between boats. Boy was it shallow, even in the track, 18" or so less than much of the rest of the canal, but I tried three swims and came back with less than pound of fish to show for it but 'enjoyed' a good number of crayfish pulls and nudges. A lesson learnt

Sunday, midday:
In an attempt to get The Boy on some fish in the middle of the day, with the gale raging and boats likely, we went back to the banker swims of the previous day. There was a peg where willow roots enter the canal on the nearside and we could fish either side of it feeding the one central spot, close-in, and feed it we did...but the fish really did not.

At one point I struck in frustration at a crayfish bite only to find my float stayed where it was until I realised I had been watching a tiny bobbing stick for around 5 minutes. The real float was by now behind me on the bank of course

TBW however managed to outwit the odd one, in his usual Lloyd Honeyghan-esque 'take no prisoners' style. Heaving a good perch and his first zander of the season aboard the good ship Towpath.

Perch 1.4.6, Zander 0.15.13...smile 10cm.

At last he could trouble the bloggers challenge scoreboard again! Mission accomplished in trying conditions and the risks had been worth it

For my part? Just the one chubby little striped footballer, a sort of Sammy Lee of the Water, but there's always next week.


Incidental bird list;
Moorhen, mallard, mute swan, black-headed gull, starling, mistle thrush, redwing, blackbird, robin, dunnock, wren, blue tit, long-tailed tit, magpie, jackdaw, woodpigeon, carrion crow, great spotted woodpecker.

WINTER CANAL BIG ROACH SEARCH (1)

Drama on the Cov Canal?

The conclusion has been reached that, for now, with the usual temptations of canal and small stream ahead until mid-march, the Blogger's Challenge can be intermixed with those delights and any incidental points scored along the way will be exactly that

The prospect of targeting specific species through that period will be difficult but hopefully some chub points, combined perhaps with roach and dace, might just come along and, in the right conditions, pike can hopefully be added too with nothing more than a micro-specimen to show for the season thus far

So, the past couple of weeks have involved a brief obsession with a certain stretch of canal which I visited with Jeff & Russell on Zedvember 54th when the change in weather overnight had been little short of horrific in angling terms - from an extended period of exceptionally mild autumn weather to a burst of cold rain then a strong frost and no prospect of reaching 4degC all day. Not the best of circumstances for Jeff and I to take up the 2lb canal roach challenge nor for Russell to have his first taste of big roach fishing on the Oxford. Needless to say that little sortie had nothing to commend it

The Zedvember fest itself however was most enjoyable with the Boy Wonder and I having a brief dabble and then a chinwag with those bloggers we'd not met before from far and wide in various shapes, sizes, accents and interests. All with a tale to tell, largely involving plenty of schoolboy humour of course!

 

While we were gathered Jeff's partner Judy arrived with words to the effect of, "Ooh. A bunch of fishermen. What do you call a collection of fishermen?" The only word I could muster in the circumstances was 'a blank' and, with no advances made, we stuck with it for the time being; albeit I'm not sure anyone actually did blank but it felt as though most of us had

B.W. and I had intended to stop to eat but the pub was so deceptively busy [the only person out front all afternoon had been Jeff (all afternoon) and yet the car park and the overflow at the back was packed] that we decided to leave it and tackle a bag or two of chips on the way back

The highlight of the day, apart from the obvious of course, was in running back to the car to get Russell's birthday card before he departed, misjudging the steepness of a grassy bank and falling headlong forward like some kind of poleaxed grandfather clock

Until, that is, on the way to the chip shop, many conversations later, this...

"I've got it", said The Boy, in mildy subdued exclamation, all matter of fact.

"What?"

"It's was a cast"

"What was a...? Oh yes! It's a cast. A cast of anglers. Now that is clever". The penny dropped and, yes, sure enough it was a cast of anglers, and some cast at that


Back to the plot from the cast:

The ensuing visits to the canaloid have been interesting, engaging and predictable in equal measure. That is about 1/3 of each

(Canaloid: A three-dimensional form with level top, rounded bottom, and indeterminate, often snaking, length).


A quick sojourn to the area that produced the biggest roach of recent weeks at 1.13.0 brought a few fish with a single specimen over a pound, coming in at 1.5.4 to be precise

Otter signs nearby suggested young ones to be present from the scat evidence but the entertainment of the day was a 'flick'(?) of 3 friendly moorhens (okay not as good as a cast, I'll grant you) which ran toward me at the prospect of bread and then retreated with equal gusto once they'd claimed a morsel each never to be seen again

Following this the first subsequent visit to the stretch alluded to earlier involved a couple of pegs being fished in the usual manner, bread down the middle and lobworm nearside, 10 yards to one side on the tip, producing two roach to 12 ounces on bread and not so much as even a sniff-let on worm

Peg two was a contrast.
No bites on bread but plenty on whole lobworms. A surprise chub, thought initially to be a rare carp, took a lob on the drop and tore-off along the far shelf, eventually being beaten and weighed-in at over three pounds. Soon after a smaller one was lost, which I didn't initially realise I had hooked, and then a real beast took possession of the hook and bait proceeding to surge from the swim eventually losing grip as I ventured to follow it along the towpath, an opportunity lost. Two perch on worm followed, up to 1.2.0

 

With no significant roach to show for that trip yet driven by some kind of disbelieving urge I was back at dawn the next day and mistakenly, as is usually the case with revisits, back to the chub peg which this time produced a couple of skimmers to 1.4.0 on bread and perch to 1.5.0 on worm. Moving to two other pegs again produced roach to just under the pound and numerous perch and small hybrids

The longer walk however brought into view even further pegs overhung a little by hawthorns and the like, plus some rushes and sweeping bends which were just too tempting to miss-out on and, it seemed, the odd topping fish too


So, Wednesday, there I was back again with a plan to work my way along those previously unseen
swims 25 yards or so at a time with bread only. If the fish are there we know they will fall to the magic bait within minutes and a twenty minute maximum was set unless a peg was consistently giving-up good fish of course

First swim opposite some hawthorns gave-up 2 roach to ten ounces

Second, on a bend with an ash tree overhead - 2 roach to 1.0.14 and a 3ounce hybrid

Third, again on the bend, but this time in the middle - 2 roach to 0.14.13

The 4th peg - I settled into but got boated-out before long and breakfast called with just two little perch in the net

This three-trip adventure told me enough about that stretch and it will be left well alone for some time now. Perhaps until I feel it is time to try to tackle some chub again


Over the subsequent few days the mild weather has returned with high winds and rain too. This has put far too much colour into the other more likely stretches of the Oxford nearby and so it may just be time to tackle the Leam again, perhaps with a few lobs into the more slack areas, which the postman kindly delivered out his capacious red bag this very day

Has Santa come early I ask myself?

From the Murk, Diamonds

The limitations to fishing on highly trafficked relatively shallow canals are obvious to those who have experienced the dubious pleasure but perhaps to those more used to lightly-used, wider, deeper venues it may be difficult to comprehend.

Canal fishing life revolves around two main factors, the weather and boat traffic; and to benefit most from the undoubted pleasures of the cut decisions need to be made based firstly on water colour and then wind direction.

My angling backyard, as regular readers will be somewhat sick of reading, is the Oxford Canal north of the conjoined Oxford and Grand Union's from Braunston in Northants to north-east of Coventry where it meets the Coventry Canal. The majority of the cut is in Warwickshire, an area of largely clay-based surface geology, and consequently the incoming run-off or flood water from fields and ditches leaves fine beige silt behind.

Fishing early morning has become more critical during my lifetime and evening fishing is all but pointless with narrowboats active often until dusk.

The couple of hours one can often enjoy before the boats can be, at certain times of year, of quite unbelievable angling quality. Spring and autumn are those times and currently, with unseemly weather conditions prevailing for the past month, we are experiencing one of those periods.

The average weight of fish to be caught in these heady days is usually between three and seven pounds an hour with the number of fish in a catch usually averaging around a pound each.

Sounds great doesn't it? Imagine a five hour canal match in which one could take fifteen to thirty five pounds of fish based on those averages! Well, as you might gather, it isn't quite like that. The canals are not overstocked commercial fisheries after all.

Two things influence that catch; the fish population and the first boats of the day.

The North Oxford, or 'NOXC' as I have come to abbreviate it, averages around five feet, six inches deep along the boat track. Some areas are a touch deeper, others shallower. The width varies from just 8m to perhaps 20m-odd, but the average is around 12m. The consequence of these limited dimensions, heavy boat traffic and an unsurprisingly commensurate lack of weed growth is a dearth of natural food and an associated low fish population.

Fishing can therefore be challenging outside these peak times and within them one to three hours' action is as much as one can expect to enjoy.

Being little deeper than the length of the narrowboats' tiller the disturbance by the first boat of the day is often devastating, such that fishing-on if the boat passes at any great speed is the least desirable of the two options available. The settled silt overnight prior to an early start will leave the canal with a certain turbidity first thing. After long frosty periods and reduced boat movement some areas can go almost perfectly clear but this is unusual and the majority of the time a certain amount of colour is present due to suspended sediment in the water.

The two baits I tend to favour most these days, bread and lobworms, both work better when the water isn't too heavily coloured but thankfully if some stretches of the NOXC are blighted by a complexion like milky tea after downpours there are usually other (elevated) sections that will remain sensibly fishable.

Yesterday at 09.50hrs this happened...

It is possible to appreciate the water colour prior to the boat going through by looking at the undisturbed patches of water on the far side but within minutes the canal would be like pea soup all over, the fish scattered and the likelihood of more boats would then far exceed the possibility of sitting it out successfully for more fish worth catching.

Prior to the first boats however this happened:

and then this:

Note the water colour at this point.

and there were others...

Three roach of between 1.1.0 and 1.4.0. A hybrid of 1.8.0 and string of perch to 12ozs for a total weight of around 7.8.0 from a surprisingly shallow peg.

The effort is indeed worth it

Predicting the Unpredictable OR the Winter 2015/16 Big Roach Quest

The midlands canal network can be a treacherous place. Boaters slip into locks; country gentlefolk fall into the water near pubs after dark; ponies are drowned and, most worryingly of all, gongoozlers sell cheese.

If you are indigenous and wild there are natural threats. Kingfisher, otter, pike, heron, signal crayfish and of course zander together with the universally disliked mink, not to mention the occasional diving bird, may seek to harm you.

It's a tough world out there.

How tough, is best encapsulated by the following image taken at about 9am today (Saturday) which depicts a group of women afeared of the challenge that walking the towing path might set them. Now admittedly I took the difficult route to the water by descending brick steps but it didn't occur to me for one moment that I would need dayglo clothing and not one but two hi-tech walking sticks to make this dangerous journey. I know for next time however.

Why did I never notice the hazards before? Sometimes I am so stupid. Thank God for Humbrol fluorescent paints. The Walking Wagglers have saved me, and now you I suspect, from a grizzly end, without doubt. Take heed canal users out there, the towpath comprises a route almost as risky as the wilderness of the Scottish Highlands.

Todays risk didn't end there though...

Midweek, the gauntlet had been well and truly thrown down with...(I was going to use the word 'gay' here but, now that the meaning of this word is in its third incarnation in my lifetime, I no longer know what it stands for. So I'm going for a different word as it suits the mood)...dangerous abandon.

The target is to catch a canal roach so huge it will beat the Idler's Quest Authority (IQA, not to be confused with IPA which fuels the associated engine) - accepted British Canal Record of 2.4.0.

Eager for first blood I returned to the spot from whence the 1.13.0 roach, covered in the last post, appeared. It was colder now though. Six degrees C overnight and rain forecast from 9am.

An early start was, as usual, key; especially at a weekend.

In terms of light levels, I had peaked a little soon as I struggled to focus on the yellow-tipped float which sat, apparently motionless, before me. Some twenty minutes it was slumped low, between changes in ever-increasing bait size. The gloom started to lift as the first dog walker of the day appeared to view as far as one could see to the right - a resting carp angler, in uniform, strode toward me with twin sheep dog types afore. Dramatically the float lifted and I struck into a very solid fish. It seemed bream-like and then took on extra power as it headed south causing me, very unusually, to leave my seat and follow it toward where I assumed stealth mode man to be. Only visible by his dogs.

"'Got one on?", came out of the blue, or should that be khaki.

"'Sure have!"

"Ah, there's some lumps along here. Some big Zander too". 

Funny how everyone becomes an expert when they see an angler and yet no one fishes the canals.

"Well it won't be one of those on bread", I replied.

"Unless it's taken the roach that took the bread!", he blurted as he wandered further on...and then stopped as the lump surfaced. I had to ask him to repeat himself as I was strangely distracted at this moment.

"Slab", he said, all matter of fact.

"Hybrid", I said, matter of accuracy...and off he and they went to plot the rounding-up of some named fish elsewhere.

The shocks continue.

There are canal hybrids and then there are super-charged over-sized monster North Oxford Canal hybrids. Like that eel a month or more ago this one needed threading into the net sideways as, even head on, it would only just have fitted.

A couple of years back I recall taking a series of ever-increasing hybrids week by week, peaking at 4.0.3 and growing to love these the most pointless of naturally occurring fish. 

This was clearly over three pounds by some margin. A very roach-like example (if only!) but as chunky as a bag of sugar in the body.

I hung the presumed infertile beast on the scales, knowing the Little Samsons would be somewhat overstretched and feeble, expecting nothing specific but when the read-out hit 84.6 ounces I also knew this was a special moment. Deducting 12.6 for the net was a trifle and I was left with a round 72 ounces and a simple calculation of four pounds eight ounces.

Simple and yet bewildering.

 

One of those rare moments when the overwhelming desire is not to return the fish but continue to admire it. To do so however would be contrary to our ethos as anglers of course and so, reluctantly, I slipped this comfortable P. B. breaker back to observe the power as it surged back into the depths, it's strength recovered.

Despite this incredible capture to add to a run of them recently I expected little more on the day, and little more I got, for the time being at least.

Soon enough though the urge to free-line whole lobworms centrally down the cut to my left set-in. Action was immediate with relatively small perch coming to hand regularly. Then one of a pound six followed by another powerful hybrid of 2.6.0 as the only other bite on bread, apart from nibbling, tugging crayfish.

The perch continued in a steady procession right down to a one ounce fish but then a proper head-banger (pursued closely by another one of 1.6.0) sealed the day putting 1.14.0 and another three pounds of fish onto the tally as a working boat came through spoiling prospects as surely as the spots of rain would send me packing.

The total catch equalled sixteen pounds five ounces and beat my previous best ever North Oxford catch by some three pounds-odd.

The quite staggering run of canal sport continues and, as I write the temperature has risen to around eight degrees above this morning's with moist tropical air blowing in from the south-west ensuring that tomorrow might offer another opportunity to tap into this  geyser of big canal fish before it freezes up.

The bloggers challenge scoreboard is now a struggle. Points are limited with most obvious species categories now pretty much peaked so this hybrid, and the few ounces I managed to add to roach and carp in recent days, may prove to be crucial moments.

For the sad record - Somebodies former pet carp, minus top lip. Obviously someone previously caught the fish in kit form. 4lbs 2ozs.

----

So that was yesterday.

Today (Sunday) started with a better plan.

Or so I thought.

Get there before sunrise and walk into the wilderness towards known big roach territory and seek a quiet spot out of the gales and impending rain.

Technically this worked a treat. Not a ripple. Wind ripping overhead and rain delayed, no doubt by the same phenomenon, and, as I it here around lunch time, still no rain

Usual tactics were deployed but as it grew light the water appeared somewhat changed by yesterday's rain. Visibility was reduced to only 4 to 6 inches down and that required something of a squint.

The bread rig sat untroubled for some time.

The whole lob rig however bent round first cast. Two early and unimagined Chub both just knocking on three pounds, from an area I have never seen one before, followed by a stream of Perch from three ounces to 1.5.2 made up for just two fish on bread, both roach and topped by one of 1.0.3.

The interest this morning though wasn't the fishing but the fish.

Now that may sound a bit odd but nearly all of the fish were streaked with sores if above half pound in weight. Early-on I had seen two cormorants in flight descending and heading for the canal to my left. I can think of no other culprit that could cause this damage.

The location is very secluded and they could comfortably spend an hour or two each morning trying to arrest the escape of anything they can attempt to grip. I have never seen such wholesale harm to a net of fish and can only assume this is indeed a regular hunting ground.

Now dayglo coats would not help these little guys but it just goes to show the Walking Wagglers were right. It just ain't safe out there

...if you're a fish.


The catch totted-up to fourteen pounds two ounces today, boosted of course by 6lbs of Chub in the first three casts. Big fish straight-off at the start is the continuing trend. 'Twas ever thus early on the cut but as long as this ridiculously mild weather continues I see no reason why the fishing should not remain so good and the next few days are forecast to be similar. Now, I need to find those roach again...

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