Sat. 20th October 2012
It was a bright sunny day and it didn't look perchy at all. An afternoon session it was to be. Kit in car, maggots in bucket and off I went.
An hour spent trying to catch bait highlighted something interesting. I struggled to catch in all but the peg I've been catching bait in previously, where it was a bite a cast from the off. Weird. If it is a good area for bait fish I wonder if it is also a good area for the big predatory perch I hope are in the pond. More on that later.
The usual swim, the usual bait, the usual rig - paternoster. Nothing. The sun was blaring and the sky was blue. Looking across towards the island was a heavily tree-lined area with a large tree branch in the water. It was looking dark gloomy and inviting. So off I went.
I had a bite roughly every half hour, missing three or four, until one connected. The one that connected came off near the net, and looked about a pound. It's not even funny anymore, what is with these missed bites. After that, the swim died, the sun went behind the trees and the bait swim looked good for dusk.
As the sun set and the light values looked superb, I had a take, strike, bumped off, nice perch chased what must have been my hookbait through the surface layers. Damn it! No more action.
Sun. 28th October 2012
I arrived mid-morning, empty carpark as usual. Lovely gloomy day, drizzle in the air, and perch waiting to get caught. I got a bit carried away catching bait, with some clonking roach and a perch on maggots coming to the net. Also lost what I hope was a carp - hate to think it was a decent perch.
Bait bucket full, I cast out proper and awaited events while enjoying a brew. Nothing happened after 45minutes or so, which was unusual given the conditions and past form for the peg. Usually I would have missed or lost several by now! Maybe it was the cold that had moved in on Friday.
I decided to move over to the shadey island swim. After an hour or so, with float right next to overhanging branches, I got what I thought was a take, but I think the fish let go before I struck. I went to fetch my brolly and the rest of the gear to sit it out in this swim.
An hour or so later and the float went berserk before bobbing away. A firm strike and the fish was on. Yes, that's right, the fish was on! In the net went a lovely perch of around a pound or so, I didn't weigh it. Beautiful fish.
No more bites materialised, so I decided to fish into dusk in a spot I'd not tried yet, a lovely corner swim with an overhanging willow, and 6 feet of water. I didn't have to wait long for a bite, but the strike sent my rig in to the over-head tree and it was missing the paternoster link. I tie it with a weak knot in case it snags up, assume the lead was caught on a twig or something.
Out went a fresh bait, and after half an hour the float did it's berserk then sinking trick. The strike met resistance and another fish was on. Yep, that's a 2:1 bite success rate - unheard of for me! The perch was slightly smaller but no less welcome or pretty. No more action.
Here's what I think. The recent cold weather put the smaller perch - of which there are plenty - off chasing fish. Leaving the bigger perch to take my baits. I reckon the majority of missed bites were smaller perch not getting hold of my baits properly.
I'm confused though about why the bait swim is so good for catching bait, but, despite early success, now seems to have quietened down. Also, I'm concerned that I've not connected with anything over 2lb. I wonder if this is the water I'm after. I'm going to persevere with the place, might try prawns and / or deadbaits. Also curious to know if the deeper water is where the better perch sit, waiting for the right time to strike. The pool isn't especially turbid, especially now the weather has cooled, so maybe that's worth a try.
Best fishes!
Monday, 29 October 2012
Saturday, 13 October 2012
Fell Off My Perch
Sat. 13th October 2012
So, the river was on the rise again, following a superb perch day on Thursday - a lovely overcast day with plenty of rain. The weather was forecast to be sunny spells between showers, and feeling fresh. They were right, and how fresh!
The pool is looking very pretty right now, nestled among the trees, which are in full golden autumn colours. I opted to fish the same peg. The opposite bank looks tempting with some fallen trees near an island, but this time I stuck to what I knew. Must explore... By lunchtime I had a bucket full of bait and light paternoster livebait rig was fishing beside some lilies.
There were spells of inactivity, punctuated with spells of bites. Some of the bites were incredible, burying the float and pulling the rod tip around. But, despite my experiments with hooking arrangements and strike timing, all but one of the bites was missed, bumped or lost. The fish I did land was a little on the deep-hooked side. I can only surmise that the missed bites are small fish and resume standard striking procedure and hook arrangements on the basis that it's better to lose a small fish than it is to deep hook a large fish. But more of my conclusions later.
At around 5pm, the float shot off towards the middle of the pool and a better feeling fish was on. The scrap was nervous on my part, but needn't have been, the fish was well hooked for once. The perch was drawn over the net with minimal fuss, just a short dash toward marginal foliage.
An absolutely smashing looking fish - the photo doesn't do it justice due to exposure issues - weighing in at 1lb 14oz. They're getting bigger.
Next time on the pool I think it is going to be necessary to use larger baits than the 3-4inch baits. I may also experiment with deadbaits and maybe putting a rod out in deeper water to see what happens. There are just so many average sized perch that more evasive tactics to avoid so many missed bites are required.
Oh, didn't mention it last time, but the carp are a pain. They are attracted by my relatively heavy feeding of flavoured maggots and come dusk are all over me like a cheap suit. Must consider a little and often feed pattern rather than the heavy baiting used to concentrate bait fish near the bottom. At least until the cold weather puts the carp on the backsides. If it does, that is.
Catch a monster!
So, the river was on the rise again, following a superb perch day on Thursday - a lovely overcast day with plenty of rain. The weather was forecast to be sunny spells between showers, and feeling fresh. They were right, and how fresh!
The pool is looking very pretty right now, nestled among the trees, which are in full golden autumn colours. I opted to fish the same peg. The opposite bank looks tempting with some fallen trees near an island, but this time I stuck to what I knew. Must explore... By lunchtime I had a bucket full of bait and light paternoster livebait rig was fishing beside some lilies.
There were spells of inactivity, punctuated with spells of bites. Some of the bites were incredible, burying the float and pulling the rod tip around. But, despite my experiments with hooking arrangements and strike timing, all but one of the bites was missed, bumped or lost. The fish I did land was a little on the deep-hooked side. I can only surmise that the missed bites are small fish and resume standard striking procedure and hook arrangements on the basis that it's better to lose a small fish than it is to deep hook a large fish. But more of my conclusions later.
At around 5pm, the float shot off towards the middle of the pool and a better feeling fish was on. The scrap was nervous on my part, but needn't have been, the fish was well hooked for once. The perch was drawn over the net with minimal fuss, just a short dash toward marginal foliage.
An absolutely smashing looking fish - the photo doesn't do it justice due to exposure issues - weighing in at 1lb 14oz. They're getting bigger.
Next time on the pool I think it is going to be necessary to use larger baits than the 3-4inch baits. I may also experiment with deadbaits and maybe putting a rod out in deeper water to see what happens. There are just so many average sized perch that more evasive tactics to avoid so many missed bites are required.
 |
| 1lb 14oz |
Catch a monster!
Sunday, 7 October 2012
Mid-Autumn - Perch, and Paradise Ponds
Sunday 23rd Sept. - Avon Weirpool
Having read through previous entries, I can't help but wonder, has it really been a year since my last entry, and, more importantly, since I last went fishing? That went fast. The winter was spent putting off doing the DIY tasks that are building up (still), while spring was eaten by a change of jobs and all the stresses that go with that. All the while I enjoyed spending weekends with my family. Summer was dedicated to mountain biking - my other hobby to which I flit with bi-polar regularity.
The air, the weather and the drawing in of the nights re-ignited the spark for fishing. There is nothing that compares to the onset of autumn to stoke me up for it, easily my favourite season for angling. Picking up where I left off, it is still a big perch that I am after.
I set off for the river with some maggots and lobworms. I intended to rove around with float-fished worm, dropping into the perchy looking swims, but it started raining around noon, which made it quite uncomfortable to keep mobile. I much prefer sitting static under a brolly when it's wet and windy. So, with just a 2lb chub to show for my efforts, I packed the gear into the car and headed off for the weir.
The peg was empty, great, up went the brolly, out went a lobworm, away went the float. I was getting slaughtered by small perch. In the gloomy conditions, the swim was full of perch and they were feeding - hard.
A change of tactics, I flicked some maggots onto the crease, and into the bucket went half a dozen bleak. After re-rigging, a bleak was lowered onto the marginal shelf. The float buried almost instantly, but I mistimed the strike.
Re-cast, float buried, average sized perch lost at the net. The weather was manky, overcast, chilly, persistent rain and breezy. Another bleak was sent to it's doom, this time the bite was hit perfectly, the perch was landed. It was less than a pound, I didn't bother to weigh it.
Then things went quiet for a while. Had I spooked the shoal? Had a pike moved in? After half-hour or so, a large perch-like shape appeared beneath my float, which promptly slid away. My strike was met with resistance but evidently the timing was off again, as the line went slack.
I wonder if I can compensate for my poor timing with a tweak to the rig, a hair-type arrangement perhaps. Or maybe it wasn't a large fish, it was a group of small fish which couldn't get hold of the bait properly...
Despite the frenetic action early on, that missed bite was the last of the action. I'm unsure if the slightly increased flow or my clumsiness was the culprit. Probably the latter.
Saturday 6th October - New Pond
All the rain that came down during and after my last session caused the river to rise and burst its banks. That put paid to perch fishing on the river, so it was a choice, barbel or stillwater perch. Though the river on my club ticket is a very interesting barbel stretch, seeing very little pressure, while still producing occasional fish to double-figures, I thought better of it. As a recovering barbel addict, the last thing I want to do is get hooked again, so I gave that a miss. I didn't fancy any of the pools on a day ticket, and didn't fancy the pools on my club card, so I began the search for a new water.
A chance encounter while investigating a day-ticket water, lead me to a club-run fishery which ticked all the boxes. When the card hit the doormat, it was too much to resist a session that evening, so off I went with a bucket full of maggots and a spring in my step.
A beautiful, quiet little pool, lined with trees in full autumn colours, glowing brightly in the sunshine. It looked lovely but the bright day didn't feel very perchy. I set up at the deeper end of the pond, the trees casting a shadow over the water, and a patch of lilies offering overhead cover to any stalking perch.
Waggler fished maggots gave me a bite a chuck, lovely, a hatful of roach and perch to use as bait in double quick time. Out went a small roach on a free-roving float rig. An hour spent fishing to open water went bite-less, so I repositioned the rig next to the lilies.
The float bobbed and weaved a bit, then disappeared. As usual, my strike was badly timed or something, as the fish let go before I had a chance to see it. A fresh bait went out to the same spot and just like the previous cast, a bite wasn't long coming. A short, nervous fight ensued, a nice perch was drawn over the net. It appeared bigger to my untrained eye, but at 1lb 5oz I felt that this was a perfect start on a new venue with an unknown perch population. Chuffed!
I experienced a couple more missed bites a while later, but remain unsure if it is my rig, my striking, or smaller perch not taking the bait fully. I'm going to experiment with hook arrangements.
As dusk approached, I switched to a larger, 5 inch roach hookbait. After 10 minutes or so, the float absolutely smashed under and my strike was met with a heavy fish nodding around. The tussle was cut short when either the hook pulled or the fish just let go. Damn! I really must sort out my hooking arrangement, it felt like a good fish.
That was to be the last of the action as darkness fell. I left the pond feeling very excited, pleased and disappointed, already hatching a plan for the next session. Hopefully the river isn't in suitable condition for perch so I can come back here again...
I hope your next bite is a monster!
Having read through previous entries, I can't help but wonder, has it really been a year since my last entry, and, more importantly, since I last went fishing? That went fast. The winter was spent putting off doing the DIY tasks that are building up (still), while spring was eaten by a change of jobs and all the stresses that go with that. All the while I enjoyed spending weekends with my family. Summer was dedicated to mountain biking - my other hobby to which I flit with bi-polar regularity.
The air, the weather and the drawing in of the nights re-ignited the spark for fishing. There is nothing that compares to the onset of autumn to stoke me up for it, easily my favourite season for angling. Picking up where I left off, it is still a big perch that I am after.
I set off for the river with some maggots and lobworms. I intended to rove around with float-fished worm, dropping into the perchy looking swims, but it started raining around noon, which made it quite uncomfortable to keep mobile. I much prefer sitting static under a brolly when it's wet and windy. So, with just a 2lb chub to show for my efforts, I packed the gear into the car and headed off for the weir.
The peg was empty, great, up went the brolly, out went a lobworm, away went the float. I was getting slaughtered by small perch. In the gloomy conditions, the swim was full of perch and they were feeding - hard.
A change of tactics, I flicked some maggots onto the crease, and into the bucket went half a dozen bleak. After re-rigging, a bleak was lowered onto the marginal shelf. The float buried almost instantly, but I mistimed the strike.
Re-cast, float buried, average sized perch lost at the net. The weather was manky, overcast, chilly, persistent rain and breezy. Another bleak was sent to it's doom, this time the bite was hit perfectly, the perch was landed. It was less than a pound, I didn't bother to weigh it.
Then things went quiet for a while. Had I spooked the shoal? Had a pike moved in? After half-hour or so, a large perch-like shape appeared beneath my float, which promptly slid away. My strike was met with resistance but evidently the timing was off again, as the line went slack.
I wonder if I can compensate for my poor timing with a tweak to the rig, a hair-type arrangement perhaps. Or maybe it wasn't a large fish, it was a group of small fish which couldn't get hold of the bait properly...
Despite the frenetic action early on, that missed bite was the last of the action. I'm unsure if the slightly increased flow or my clumsiness was the culprit. Probably the latter.
Saturday 6th October - New Pond
All the rain that came down during and after my last session caused the river to rise and burst its banks. That put paid to perch fishing on the river, so it was a choice, barbel or stillwater perch. Though the river on my club ticket is a very interesting barbel stretch, seeing very little pressure, while still producing occasional fish to double-figures, I thought better of it. As a recovering barbel addict, the last thing I want to do is get hooked again, so I gave that a miss. I didn't fancy any of the pools on a day ticket, and didn't fancy the pools on my club card, so I began the search for a new water.
A chance encounter while investigating a day-ticket water, lead me to a club-run fishery which ticked all the boxes. When the card hit the doormat, it was too much to resist a session that evening, so off I went with a bucket full of maggots and a spring in my step.
A beautiful, quiet little pool, lined with trees in full autumn colours, glowing brightly in the sunshine. It looked lovely but the bright day didn't feel very perchy. I set up at the deeper end of the pond, the trees casting a shadow over the water, and a patch of lilies offering overhead cover to any stalking perch.
Waggler fished maggots gave me a bite a chuck, lovely, a hatful of roach and perch to use as bait in double quick time. Out went a small roach on a free-roving float rig. An hour spent fishing to open water went bite-less, so I repositioned the rig next to the lilies.
The float bobbed and weaved a bit, then disappeared. As usual, my strike was badly timed or something, as the fish let go before I had a chance to see it. A fresh bait went out to the same spot and just like the previous cast, a bite wasn't long coming. A short, nervous fight ensued, a nice perch was drawn over the net. It appeared bigger to my untrained eye, but at 1lb 5oz I felt that this was a perfect start on a new venue with an unknown perch population. Chuffed!
 |
| 1lb 5oz Perch |
As dusk approached, I switched to a larger, 5 inch roach hookbait. After 10 minutes or so, the float absolutely smashed under and my strike was met with a heavy fish nodding around. The tussle was cut short when either the hook pulled or the fish just let go. Damn! I really must sort out my hooking arrangement, it felt like a good fish.
That was to be the last of the action as darkness fell. I left the pond feeling very excited, pleased and disappointed, already hatching a plan for the next session. Hopefully the river isn't in suitable condition for perch so I can come back here again...
I hope your next bite is a monster!
Sunday, 25 September 2011
Of Missed Bites
Sun. 18/09/11
Due to a birthday party on the Saturday, it was to be a Sunday session. I arrived at half-past-ten to find an angler in that peg on the weir pool. That would make catching bait a little slower, but, the best thing is I wouldn't be tempted to fish that swim. It's not that I've got anything against fishing a productive swim, I just think by doing so, I miss out on discovering other good spots. Was it Einstein that said the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results?
A few dace and bleak in the bucket, the angler in that peg packed up. Having no will power, I dropped into that swim, there I remained until it was time to pack up! Dear me, D. Still, my main aim is to catch a PB perch , if (only) I could get that off my back I would be more inclined to explore other spots.
The swim really does scream perch. Not only have I heard rumours of large fish coming out there, it also contains several perchy features. An overhanging willow has created a raft to the left, timber used to reduce erosion is exposed creating good stalking grounds, the river bed drops sharply into 5 feet of water, then slopes down quickly into 10-12 feet and the flow is steady. Most importantly of all, it is stuffed full of bait fish, bleak, dace, roach and small perch.
My float was lowered between the drop-off and exposed timbers, and maggots were regularly fed to create interest in the area. The weather in the afternoon was grey, with the occasional light shower. The wait began.
While the sky was dressed in light cloud, the float was dragged into the depths and the strike met resistance. After a couple of moments of nodding on the rod, the line went slack. Upon retrieval of the rig, the dace hookbait had apparently swiveled around on the hook and masked the hook point. I've had that a couple of times now and it's always dace that do it!
The bait was adjusted and re-cast to the same marginal spot. It wasn't long to wait before the very same happened again - bite, strike, resistance, slack, masked point. I must look into preventing the hookpoint becoming masked.
The sun broke through, the reflection landing right beside my float, making watching it very difficult without sustaining burns to my retinas! At around 5pm I was practically blind, but no matter, my float vanished and the rod arched over upon a very aggressive take. No masked points this time, the fish was on and it was making a bid for the timbers and raft! It felt like the mother of all perch and my heart nigh-on exploded...
Of course, a small but energetic jack pike was netted, unhooked and released. Good fun on perch tackle, but the adrenaline rush was purely because I thought it was the large perch I was after.
No more bites materialised, not even in the dusk period. Maybe the feeding spell in this swim is mid-late afternoon, or maybe I should have moved after catching the pike.
This weekend - 24th/25th - I am not fishing, in order to spend time with my family. Looking out of the window, the sky is wall-to-wall cloud and the air is mild. Perfect conditions for just about everything that swims. Oh well, let's just hope the rumoured early autumn heatwave doesn't arrive....
Best wishes from me, I hope your fishy dreams come true. D.
Due to a birthday party on the Saturday, it was to be a Sunday session. I arrived at half-past-ten to find an angler in that peg on the weir pool. That would make catching bait a little slower, but, the best thing is I wouldn't be tempted to fish that swim. It's not that I've got anything against fishing a productive swim, I just think by doing so, I miss out on discovering other good spots. Was it Einstein that said the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results?
A few dace and bleak in the bucket, the angler in that peg packed up. Having no will power, I dropped into that swim, there I remained until it was time to pack up! Dear me, D. Still, my main aim is to catch a PB perch , if (only) I could get that off my back I would be more inclined to explore other spots.
The swim really does scream perch. Not only have I heard rumours of large fish coming out there, it also contains several perchy features. An overhanging willow has created a raft to the left, timber used to reduce erosion is exposed creating good stalking grounds, the river bed drops sharply into 5 feet of water, then slopes down quickly into 10-12 feet and the flow is steady. Most importantly of all, it is stuffed full of bait fish, bleak, dace, roach and small perch.
My float was lowered between the drop-off and exposed timbers, and maggots were regularly fed to create interest in the area. The weather in the afternoon was grey, with the occasional light shower. The wait began.
While the sky was dressed in light cloud, the float was dragged into the depths and the strike met resistance. After a couple of moments of nodding on the rod, the line went slack. Upon retrieval of the rig, the dace hookbait had apparently swiveled around on the hook and masked the hook point. I've had that a couple of times now and it's always dace that do it!
The bait was adjusted and re-cast to the same marginal spot. It wasn't long to wait before the very same happened again - bite, strike, resistance, slack, masked point. I must look into preventing the hookpoint becoming masked.
The sun broke through, the reflection landing right beside my float, making watching it very difficult without sustaining burns to my retinas! At around 5pm I was practically blind, but no matter, my float vanished and the rod arched over upon a very aggressive take. No masked points this time, the fish was on and it was making a bid for the timbers and raft! It felt like the mother of all perch and my heart nigh-on exploded...
Of course, a small but energetic jack pike was netted, unhooked and released. Good fun on perch tackle, but the adrenaline rush was purely because I thought it was the large perch I was after.
No more bites materialised, not even in the dusk period. Maybe the feeding spell in this swim is mid-late afternoon, or maybe I should have moved after catching the pike.
This weekend - 24th/25th - I am not fishing, in order to spend time with my family. Looking out of the window, the sky is wall-to-wall cloud and the air is mild. Perfect conditions for just about everything that swims. Oh well, let's just hope the rumoured early autumn heatwave doesn't arrive....
Best wishes from me, I hope your fishy dreams come true. D.
Sunday, 11 September 2011
Lost Above the Weir
Sat. 10/09/11
Determined to begin exploration above the weir, I sat facing a fresh breeze on a muggy Septembers day. To my right was a large bed of bulrushes, jutting out into ten feet of steady water. It had to be the perfect ambush point.
The wind made catching bait tricky, even then, the fish were an unsuitable size, too large for practical perch fishing. Eventually, a handful of three inch dace were collected. Among those was a couple of small-average perch and a ¼lb roach. A jack pike also took a shine to what I presume was a perch, snaffled the hooked fish as I was reeling it in, then sliced through my low diameter hook-length with those teeth.
The club chairman stopped by on his travels, carrying lure gear. He had lost an estimated upper-double / low-twenty pound pike at the net. My sympathy goes out to you, Steve.
My live-bait was put into position, tight against the rushes. As I was getting it in the perfect position, I became aware that there was a heaviness about my rig, directly under the rod-tip. Suddenly, all went slack, and I realised a fish had taken my bait, felt resistance, and let go! Upon retrieval, my hook-bait looked worse for wear, but showing no obvious signs that a toothy predator had grabbed it. In my experience, pike don't let go so easily...
After re-baiting, minutes turned to hours, sunny intervals turned into heavy showers, afternoon turned to evening.
Dusk was upon us, with not a sniff to show, the take on the first cast was to be all I had to go on. As the light failed, the river came alive with fish activity. I noted that the roach/bream were topping mid-river, the small dace were topping one-quarter across and began packing away.
It seems that there are too many potential fish holding features on the stretch to spend a whole session on one spot, especially at this time of the year. A more mobile approach is needed. Or maybe I should stick to the weir for now.
Best wishes and keep searching those deep pools. D.
Determined to begin exploration above the weir, I sat facing a fresh breeze on a muggy Septembers day. To my right was a large bed of bulrushes, jutting out into ten feet of steady water. It had to be the perfect ambush point.
The wind made catching bait tricky, even then, the fish were an unsuitable size, too large for practical perch fishing. Eventually, a handful of three inch dace were collected. Among those was a couple of small-average perch and a ¼lb roach. A jack pike also took a shine to what I presume was a perch, snaffled the hooked fish as I was reeling it in, then sliced through my low diameter hook-length with those teeth.
The club chairman stopped by on his travels, carrying lure gear. He had lost an estimated upper-double / low-twenty pound pike at the net. My sympathy goes out to you, Steve.
My live-bait was put into position, tight against the rushes. As I was getting it in the perfect position, I became aware that there was a heaviness about my rig, directly under the rod-tip. Suddenly, all went slack, and I realised a fish had taken my bait, felt resistance, and let go! Upon retrieval, my hook-bait looked worse for wear, but showing no obvious signs that a toothy predator had grabbed it. In my experience, pike don't let go so easily...
 |
| Bobbing away in the lair |
After re-baiting, minutes turned to hours, sunny intervals turned into heavy showers, afternoon turned to evening.
Dusk was upon us, with not a sniff to show, the take on the first cast was to be all I had to go on. As the light failed, the river came alive with fish activity. I noted that the roach/bream were topping mid-river, the small dace were topping one-quarter across and began packing away.
It seems that there are too many potential fish holding features on the stretch to spend a whole session on one spot, especially at this time of the year. A more mobile approach is needed. Or maybe I should stick to the weir for now.
Best wishes and keep searching those deep pools. D.
Sunday, 4 September 2011
A Step in the Stripy Direction
Sat. 3/09/11
After the previous sessions success, my enthusiasm was on full tilt for more perch fishing. The forecast looked spot on, with a breezy yet largely overcast day predicted on Saturday. So it was, that I found myself on the weir pool again, fishing for bait. I didn't fancy the arduous task of tracking down the monsters above the weir yet, more confidence in my approach was needed.
Isn't it always the way, that you can never catch the perfect sized lives? They are always too small or two large. I was looking for silvers in the 4-5inch bracket, but I eventually had to compromise and kept a couple smaller and a couple larger, of dace and bleak.
The facing wind made proceedings a little less smooth, but eventually I had a bleak fishing near the drop-off. The procedure of feeding red maggots enticed a group of average sized perch to feed, but they were far less interested in my hookbait this time around. In addition, the bait fish managed to slip the hook from their top lip on more than one occasion, the risk of using a barbless hook. As such, it took six hours to get any real interest from a perch.
With steady feeding, I had encouraged a sizable shoal of bleak and dace to take residence on the crease, so confident were they that maggots would be nailed immediately they hit the water. The group of small perch seemed reluctant to rise as high as the silvers, who must have been constantly at the surface. I decided to fish my bait a little deeper, and lowered the bleak into the zone where the perch looked most comfortable.
As the sky thickened with leaden cloud, I noticed a couple of better perch - certainly over a pound - prowling along the top of the drop off. They looked well worth catching and they looked interested in something. It was like watching the riverine equivalent of a big cat stalking through the long grass, about to go in for the kill.
My float was yanked below the surface aggressively and the strike met a heavy resistance, punctuated by the knocks and bangs of vicious head-shakes. The fight was surprisingly energetic, putting my through action rod into an exciting curve, as the fish made a bid for the snags to my left. After a spirited battle, the fish was netted safely, the hook falling out of the fishes lip as soon as the line went slack - phew!
A few ounces shy of 2lb, this gorgeous dark perch really made my day.
As dusk approached, I was hopeful of more action, but feel that the fish were more interested in the huge shoal of bait fish, than my hookbait. A last gasp attempt to catch more baits saw perch chasing hooked dace into the margins. Alas, it wasn't to be, my float sailed away on dark, but the strike failed to connect.
Pleased as punch with the days endeavors, I made my way home. I hope your nets are never dry! D.
After the previous sessions success, my enthusiasm was on full tilt for more perch fishing. The forecast looked spot on, with a breezy yet largely overcast day predicted on Saturday. So it was, that I found myself on the weir pool again, fishing for bait. I didn't fancy the arduous task of tracking down the monsters above the weir yet, more confidence in my approach was needed.
Isn't it always the way, that you can never catch the perfect sized lives? They are always too small or two large. I was looking for silvers in the 4-5inch bracket, but I eventually had to compromise and kept a couple smaller and a couple larger, of dace and bleak.
The facing wind made proceedings a little less smooth, but eventually I had a bleak fishing near the drop-off. The procedure of feeding red maggots enticed a group of average sized perch to feed, but they were far less interested in my hookbait this time around. In addition, the bait fish managed to slip the hook from their top lip on more than one occasion, the risk of using a barbless hook. As such, it took six hours to get any real interest from a perch.
With steady feeding, I had encouraged a sizable shoal of bleak and dace to take residence on the crease, so confident were they that maggots would be nailed immediately they hit the water. The group of small perch seemed reluctant to rise as high as the silvers, who must have been constantly at the surface. I decided to fish my bait a little deeper, and lowered the bleak into the zone where the perch looked most comfortable.
As the sky thickened with leaden cloud, I noticed a couple of better perch - certainly over a pound - prowling along the top of the drop off. They looked well worth catching and they looked interested in something. It was like watching the riverine equivalent of a big cat stalking through the long grass, about to go in for the kill.
My float was yanked below the surface aggressively and the strike met a heavy resistance, punctuated by the knocks and bangs of vicious head-shakes. The fight was surprisingly energetic, putting my through action rod into an exciting curve, as the fish made a bid for the snags to my left. After a spirited battle, the fish was netted safely, the hook falling out of the fishes lip as soon as the line went slack - phew!
A few ounces shy of 2lb, this gorgeous dark perch really made my day.
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| Exquisite markings |
As dusk approached, I was hopeful of more action, but feel that the fish were more interested in the huge shoal of bait fish, than my hookbait. A last gasp attempt to catch more baits saw perch chasing hooked dace into the margins. Alas, it wasn't to be, my float sailed away on dark, but the strike failed to connect.
Pleased as punch with the days endeavors, I made my way home. I hope your nets are never dry! D.
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| A step closer |
Saturday, 3 September 2011
The Hunt for Perch Begins
Wed. 31/08/11
Having spent the spring and some of the summer targeting carp, more of that later, I was keen for a change of scene. I had grown weary of the inescapable commercialism of the carp world. Oh, and my luck had run out!
By chance, I saw a couple of episodes of Catching the Impossible on the TV which contained some truly inspiring footage of perch. It was a breath of fresh air to my soul, conjuring thoughts of bullrush lined river banks, disappearing floats and those enigmatic packs of stripy flanked hunters. For several years I had a theory that a local river would be ideal habitat for large perch to reside, it was high time to give it a go.
With broken cloud overhead and the rush of the weir in the air, my float-fished maggots were swung onto the nearside crease, followed hastily by a pinch of loose-feed. The orange tip ambled it's way with the flow for a short distance, then vanished from sight. So it continued until enough bait fish - dace and bleak - had been caught for a few hours fishing.
The hook bait was lowered into the water next to a steep marginal drop off, the float beginning it's drunken dance. Loose-fed maggots were introduced and before long a group of average sized perch were hungrily taking them, competing with the dace and bleak. I decided to hold back the feed, it had done it's job, fish were active in the area.
The shoal of perch turned their attention to my hook bait, visible in the low, clear water. Fascinating! There were half a dozen perch, from 2 to 12 ounces approximately. They proceeded to harry and hound the bleak, chasing and pecking it. Perch are such an interesting species, using various methods to catch their prey. Eventually, one of the larger fish took the bait, I struck but did not connect. This was repeated a couple of times - exciting yet frustrating.
An hour or two passed by, uneventful, when the float sank with purpose. Strike! A fish was on. The fight was typical perch, a quick dash for cover, then the usual nodding and head shakes. The fish went into the landing net without fuss. Not a monster, but a good start at about twelve ounces, the colours vivid in the late summer sunshine, stripes bold and fins red.
For the rest of the afternoon, I decided to explore above the weir, a deep, slow flowing stretch, with steep, weed fringed margins, punctuated with the occasional overhanging willow and small rush bed.
My bait was lowered into a deep, slow bay, tight against bank-side foliage. Some time passed, before the float vanished, but the strike met thin air. I retrieved my rig which was missing a hook - a pike had obviously taken a fancy to my bait, biting through the nylon instantly. I have no doubt the pike will rid itself of my barbless hook with no trouble at all.
Some more spots were explored, but to no avail. I feel this section of river needs a different approach. Either locating the bait fish then building a swim, or a highly mobile approach such as lure fishing to track down the perch. An ambitious undertaking, but the rewards are surely there. Another day perhaps.
Until next time, keep searching; the next bite could be the fish of your dreams. D.
Having spent the spring and some of the summer targeting carp, more of that later, I was keen for a change of scene. I had grown weary of the inescapable commercialism of the carp world. Oh, and my luck had run out!
By chance, I saw a couple of episodes of Catching the Impossible on the TV which contained some truly inspiring footage of perch. It was a breath of fresh air to my soul, conjuring thoughts of bullrush lined river banks, disappearing floats and those enigmatic packs of stripy flanked hunters. For several years I had a theory that a local river would be ideal habitat for large perch to reside, it was high time to give it a go.
With broken cloud overhead and the rush of the weir in the air, my float-fished maggots were swung onto the nearside crease, followed hastily by a pinch of loose-feed. The orange tip ambled it's way with the flow for a short distance, then vanished from sight. So it continued until enough bait fish - dace and bleak - had been caught for a few hours fishing.
The hook bait was lowered into the water next to a steep marginal drop off, the float beginning it's drunken dance. Loose-fed maggots were introduced and before long a group of average sized perch were hungrily taking them, competing with the dace and bleak. I decided to hold back the feed, it had done it's job, fish were active in the area.
The shoal of perch turned their attention to my hook bait, visible in the low, clear water. Fascinating! There were half a dozen perch, from 2 to 12 ounces approximately. They proceeded to harry and hound the bleak, chasing and pecking it. Perch are such an interesting species, using various methods to catch their prey. Eventually, one of the larger fish took the bait, I struck but did not connect. This was repeated a couple of times - exciting yet frustrating.
An hour or two passed by, uneventful, when the float sank with purpose. Strike! A fish was on. The fight was typical perch, a quick dash for cover, then the usual nodding and head shakes. The fish went into the landing net without fuss. Not a monster, but a good start at about twelve ounces, the colours vivid in the late summer sunshine, stripes bold and fins red.
For the rest of the afternoon, I decided to explore above the weir, a deep, slow flowing stretch, with steep, weed fringed margins, punctuated with the occasional overhanging willow and small rush bed.
My bait was lowered into a deep, slow bay, tight against bank-side foliage. Some time passed, before the float vanished, but the strike met thin air. I retrieved my rig which was missing a hook - a pike had obviously taken a fancy to my bait, biting through the nylon instantly. I have no doubt the pike will rid itself of my barbless hook with no trouble at all.
Some more spots were explored, but to no avail. I feel this section of river needs a different approach. Either locating the bait fish then building a swim, or a highly mobile approach such as lure fishing to track down the perch. An ambitious undertaking, but the rewards are surely there. Another day perhaps.
Until next time, keep searching; the next bite could be the fish of your dreams. D.
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