A Few Nice Canal Chub

I hadn't planned finishing the season in style, just finishing the season with a few fish, any fish would do as long as it wasn't just gudgeon and bleak so I set off on my walk down to the canal knowing this could be the last couple of trips of the season.

I set up in a recently found swim, one that I usually walked by and one that was chub or bust hoping to nick a fish before they scarper, it was cloudy to start so I couldn't see any fish but was sure they were there. I stealthily set up a little way away, even positioning my stool parallel to the bank as I was to fish diagonally across to these wary chub. I then tried to ping some maggots across under the trees with a catapult.

When it comes to using the catty I am NOT your man, were I to be in a catapult toting western I would get old timers urging me not to go out to face that showdown, Mary Lou would say "Don't do it Rob" and some gringo with a cheroot would be laughing as I went to stretch that elastic....and so it was the first small pouch of loosefeed was closer to hitting me than hitting the spot intended. Indeed it was more miss than hit but I did get some bait in the sweet spot, the women folk whooped and hollered at my catty skills from the saloon bar although I did question their motives..... and my sanity.

Then the sun came out and lit up the swim like a flashlight - The chub were right opposite me in full view and not under the tree, after all that, I just had to laugh.

I knew they would ghost under the tree so held my position, more Captain Skyline than The Catapult Kid, kind of staying as still as possible. Sure enough they just drifted away to where I had fed, mind you I think I fed everywhere, but they were under the tree at last, now I hoped my casting skills were better.

I fed another small pouch of around half a dozen maggots, cast out may waggler with the bulk shot touching the hook length, I suppose that's a foot and a half deep taking into account the depth of the float. I expected a bite straight away as I knew I hadn't spooked the fish and they could well be on the intercept, the float hit the spot under the tree, it was a decent cast and I was full of anticipation.

Yes! The float went under straight away, I knew it would be a chub so went all in and kept it away from the far bank snags, not a big fish but quite fat, no doubt having a good munch on all my feed, I hope it didn't have to travel too far to get them I thought laughingly. Getting on for 3lb it was a nice start to the day and anything else now would be a bonus.

Despite the towpath getting really busy I stayed in the swim hoping I could get another unlike the other day when I couldn't, so instead of fishing I spent the next ten minutes feeding the area again, itching to get a bait back out there but knowing the chub would just drift away were I to do so, the water was so clear and the chub knew of my presence. I was praying no one would stop to talk to me then as it would surely be game over.

I was now ready for the second cast so went for it, but it fell short from where I wanted, so recast this time bang on the spot, I waited but nothing, then the sun came out again and I could just make out some shapes, they were further along, the wily chub had moved again. I snuck along crouching and repeated the feeding and casting process, feathering the waggler as it hit the surface in the new spot and bang, the float had gone under once more, I was in again and this time it felt even better.

You know when you are lucky to get a fish in when you see it amongst all the snags and everything is on the limit, hit and hold, as much as you can with a 0.12 hooklength. The chub spun in the shallow water kicking up silt and didn't look that big until I got it into the middle and it did that fight chub do when you get them in open water, sprightly and heavy yet not the mad beast actions of a chub near a snag. It looked a nice fish as I drew it's big white mouth over the net. I was going to claim 4lb and slip it back but the towpath went eerily quiet so I weighed it, deceived by it's all round beautiful proportions and lack of belly it was much bigger than I thought and at 5lb 10oz a new canal chub pb.

Both the fish were in good condition but with otters being reported in both directions like a WW2 map encircling their position I really hope these chub can survive that battle, they will be breeding soon in all the nearby river inlets and I was glad to get quite a few this winter before they disappear either way, hopefully to return.

After the chub action I fancied settling down for a bit standard canal fishing for silvers so carried on my long walk before finding a nice spot below freshly repainted bridge, a white so bright in the low sun even Gauguin would be squinting.

No doubt it would be adorned with graffiti soon, but no artist could capture the beauty of the pristine roach I was to catch, they weren't huge and there wasn't many before it went dead but enough to hold up in the sun and go yeah, that's some of nature's art right there!

I returned each one to the sunlit clear water. It was a nice end to a great little session.

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A few days later I'm setting up again in the chubby spot, same scenario and hopefully the same result, making hay with the chub whilst the sun shines as they may not be there tomorrow. 

However fishing always throws a curve ball, first strike I crack off the whole lot, my waggler slowly drifts down the canal and I'm left staring at my limp line in the wind like a numpty. When does that happen? Thankfully it's a once in a blue moon thing but I was left cursing whatever weak spot I had in my main line. I set up again and made my way to some shelter further along, oh by the way it was windy today, very windy.

By sheltered I mean a flatish bit of canal and I found that courtesy of a lock gate, I positioned myself just below on some flooded rushes (no chance of any passers by here) and threw some maggots out, were I to use a catty today I'd need to warn air traffic control as my hand thrown maggots sailed in the wind and landed like an Olympian's discus into one of the medal spots, further than expected, ok I'll fish there I thought.

Once again I started pretty shallow and I was pleased to get some fish although keeping them out the nearside rushes is always fun, small chub they were from 10oz to around a pound but they pulled well as I tried to extend their stay in the middle, I didn't fancy falling through the rushes trying to net any snagged fish on the nearside as the net only just reached the wet stuff.

A nice roach and a couple of quality perch accompanied about half a dozen chub, although small compared to recent ones still nice, I like catching them this size anyway, ones for the future.

It went a bit dead so I dug out the catty (yeah I know) and tried to fire some bait upwind, hmmm good idea! My feed sailed low to the surface before seemingly taking off like a ski jumper and stalling, coming back in the opposite direction. The only thing more relentless than this wind was my totally out of context Olympic references, nonetheless I cast like my float like a javelin and managed another chub around a pound and a half, from this new spot, a bronze medal perhaps.

It was the last fish there, I tried on the bottom, deep and shallow but it went dead like canals can do, seemingly often for me at this time of year but who cares. A squally shower buffeted and threatened to soak and a huge red kite soared over so low I thought it was going for me, although I had a camo hat on so must have been totally invisible, if only I had the camera out though. 

Sitting on those waterlogged rushes in a gale was hard work so I decided to call it a day at about 2pm but not before having one last crack rather than a crack off in my chub swim on the way home.

I do the usual here and hope for a better outcome this time. Sure enough it's one bite and one fish to end the day and a chub of around 2lb is played to the net. I talk to a passer by who's also an angler as I remove my hook from the net, nothing unusual there as hooks often come out when netting a fish. What was strange was my line was still attached to the net as I went to release the fish, the first hook was only my crack off from earlier, complete with locking shot. Of all the chub in that swim I hook the same one twice and get back my gear minus the waggler which was long gone.

I think that sums up the season really, it's been a weird one and hard work but there has been rewards for perseverance, often the best reward has just been getting out there fishing. It's certainly helped the mind of late and my general well being. I'll raise a glass to all those cheeky chub tonight hoping they will be around for a while too.

A Week On The Grand Union Canal

Following lockdown I went fishing for the first time in months down my local canal in Apsley, determined to make a good fist of it I got four pints of maggots online and tried to get down for little a bit of fishing each day, I tried to stay away from the crowds and find some fish, here's how I got on.

Day 1

First off a trial session to get the rustiness out the system, no doubt I would forget something and no doubt it would be hard work. I eagerly walked from my house to the closest bit of canal just for a couple of hours with the usual one rod, rucksack and stool with a pint of maggots. However I took the wrong landing net, the sun came out and my new thermal trousers were too hot over my combats and my jacket was also cooking me, I didn't want to be cold but I had got a good sweat up walking there despite the temperature still being in single figures.

Although there was now some fine February sunshine I wasn't expecting to see a shoal of chub sunning themselves in the clear water, weirder still they were in a spot that's always rubbish. Whilst I wanted to be more stealthy (a new years resolution) I didn't envisage crouching down stalking fish on the cut this time of year. I pinged out some maggots to these sun loving chevins, saw what I thought was some interest and flicked out a light waggler set on the drop, first cast it goes under and a chub was on, it sure felt good playing the first fish in ages, I applied sidestrain to keep it away from the overhanging bushes and slipped the net under one of the smaller fish in the shoal, but a really welcome one and a cracking start.

Strangely it turned out to be the only fish of this short session, I tried down the track deep and also for more of the cruising chub on the drop but they seemed to have vanished. The busying towpath didn't help and I didn't wan't to walk anywhere else in my clunky gear so had to settle for one bite one fish. In the grand scheme of things it was a result and a moral sapping blank was avoided, it sure felt good to get out.

Day 2

Today was cloudy and cold but not freezing and it was to be more of a proper session, the maggots had been riddled and flavoured and I planned to walk down to one of the running pounds where the River Gade flows through, following all the rains I hoped for some good current and colour on this stretch, I found the former but it was still pretty clear and I struggled again getting just one perch in each spot. I had a theory that in the clear water the fish were scarpering when one was hooked on this featureless part so moved to a spot where I knew there was some cover.

I get to a spot where the Gade enters with all the might a chalk stream that's already been in and out of a canal a number of times can, it was just like fishing a wider deeper version of the river and gravel could be seen on the bottom even under the boats, the water even seemed clearer although it was canal water a few minutes ago, bypassing the lock upstream in an old mill stream that is now lined with flats. I was to fish where the waters rejoined.

I anticipated moving to this spot so had already set up a small 4no4 wire stick, the clear water rippled through on the nearside and I held the float back getting bites from the off, a nice mix of roach, perch, gudgeon and dace. Not many canals offer good dace sport but this one does in places where there's flow, I caught a tonker too, a fine dace, I held it low to the camera but it flipped in the sun and returned to the clear water, the camera shy dace thwarting my attempts at photography. I didn't know at the time it would be the largest fish of the day but I caught plenty so was happy.

Day 3

Next day I'm off in the opposite direction having fed an area in the morning on my way back from the post office after posting my art, pre baiting a spot with my fantastic flavoured maggots and hoping no one would be there come the afternoon. I also hoped the water would have warmed up as the previous night had a frost. Sure enough the spot was vacant so I set up a waggler in the midday sunshine, knowing the fish had already had a banquet and would be feeding well, at least that was the plan.

Following the cold morning it now felt warmer in the sunshine and I hoped the fish weren't feeling as lazy as the winter sun was making me feel. This is not usually great weather for chub but they were on it from the off with some nice fish too - prebaiting rules! I love it when a plan comes together. It reminded me of the rivers at this time of year where the chub just suddenly go mad and whilst I miss the rivers I am lucky to have this canal on my doorstep.

Perch also got in on the action, all good ones too, I love catching them a pound or over as they pull well and in the sun they just look gorgeous. For a few hours it was a mix of good chub and pound perch with the odd roach thrown in and a few bleak risking their lives with all the stripeys about. I even managed a small tatty golden rudd, the canal really can throw up anything but it was mainly chub and perch today. It was a cracking day's fishing, well I say 'day' but four hours in the afternoon was all that was needed to get around 15lb of fish.

Day 4 

This was a walk along a couple of miles of canal with the missus, not fishing just looking. There's so much to see when the water is so clear, all the contours of the bottom, the gravel bits, the shallows and of course the deep holes where the bottom disappears. I pointed out to the missus a house where a lady feeds the swans and geese with sacks of grain from her garden, in the sun we saw not fish but rats swimming round in circles on the far bank under a For Sale sign, six of them, big ones too. The house next door was selling up and I wonder if the potential new owners know of the rat problem, I bet the previous ones did.

We walked along miles of clear water and sometimes you wonder where all the fish are, but on one part of the cut I saw two huge shoals sunning themselves once more in the warm February sunshine. They were small, looked to be a mix of roach, bleak and chublets but the shoals were huge and there was the odd bigger fish below. It was on a pound I had never fancied before, but I do now. 

Day 5

It was a Sunday so the missus wanted to come fishing with me but the day didn't get off to the best start, despite setting up furthest away from any path and on the opposite side to the towpath I get two dogs walk over my gear as I was setting up, one dog is tolerable but two is just ignorant, a confrontation ensued with the owner who had the whole moor to walk them and decides it's ok for them to go where they choose in my tiny corner. I made my point well and I got the gist he'll be more careful in the future.

I was due to forget something again and this time it was my stool, I always have a black bin bag or two in my bag as they weigh nothing and are handy so I sat on this whilst the missus looked the epitomy of luxury in her camping chair. The fishing was hard so we moved after a chap from the next peg walked past saying he'd had nothing in three hours, so I gave it twenty minutes before trying somewhere else.

Moving to a busier spot I used my binbag to clear up the litter there so I crouched like a creaky ninja cursing my dodgy knees, plus lazy litter leavers, my bag now in the public bin that was just round the corner.Although my crouching soon turned to standing. The place was rammed with anglers, cyclists, joggers, dog walkers et al and the fishing was still hard, but I caught a whopping four fish here in the sun. They were good ones though with two good perch and a cracking chub that drew an audience of the curious which was all in good spirits unlike earlier.

Looking at the photo the chub looks like one of the ones I caught a few days previously from a different spot (note the scale pattern near the dorsal) although I would swear this one was the biggest of the week, maybe the mind was playing tricks or because it was the only chub on a day where I had to work for it. The missus was starting to get cold so there was just time for one last perch, and it certainly was a good one, I ended up with around 6lb from four fish, not a bad result at all.

Day 6

A couple of days later it had just rolled into March - How time flies when you are fishing. I really had to get rid of my maggots as they were turning big time after only a week which was really disappointing, It's also pretty hard to get through four pints this time of year even when half turn.  After riddling the casters and deads I had about half a pint of poor quality maggots left, plenty enough for a few hours down the canal. 

Sun was forecast for the afternoon but it was pretty cold and damp when I got down there at around 10am, I exchanged pleasantries with an old boy who was piloting the only boat of the day and set up the waggler again in a quiet spot before walking further down.

I trekked quite a way along the cut looking at the clear bottom and couldn't see much until focusing on a white bit of debris and saw a fish ghost over it. I think it was a plastic garden chair so didn't want to hook it, I went dead shallow and caught a nice roach about two feet deep, this week has taught me how shallow the fish can be even in winter and another nice roach followed. I could have persisted but I wanted to go further down to try and get that big dace again so I was once more on the move.

I got down to the dace swim and was into fish from the off despite it being much colder, mainly roach and dace although there was many more gudgeon this time, I don't count gudgeon in my records as sometimes you can't get through them, much like bleak. The big dace eluded me this time but it was nice to catch some scale perfect ones to a decent size.

With barely a handful of maggots left I went back to where I caught the shallow roach in the plastic white chair swim (there has to be better names for a swim), it was a much more comfortable spot to chill for the last hour or so. Despite having the stool I sat on a bin bag and got many a funny look from the succession of delivery guys visiting the flats opposite. I'm not sure what the collective for a group of delivery drivers is but they were there in numbers as was the old bill, perhaps looking for the guy who jumped over the fence into the offices behind me, another typical day on the canal. 

I knew fish were there from earlier and fishing deeper bought quite a few roach and perch close in,  it was fun fishing under the rod tip and another good spot found. I've learned so much this week from just looking into the seemingly lifeless clear water and almost feel like I can avoid a blank by moving to a new spot I know, whether I'll be saying that next time remains to be seen though.

It then began to rain and stayed raining, so the last two handfuls of maggots fed those wise fish that hadn't been caught. I set off for home cursing the misleading weather forecast taking the long walk back, getting a good soaking in the process and feeling cold as I didn't want to take a heavy coat and get hot, yeah thanks weatherman.

The only good thing about the rain is everyone disappears it was like a normal pre lockdown winters day on the canal. I saw the same boat I saw earlier going through a lock on it's way back. You know when a boater is a regular when they can single handedly get through the lock without mooring. "Nicely done sir" I quipped from the bridge " I usually see carnage but there'a man who knows what he's doing"  "Thank you sir" he beamed with a massive smile, I think it made his day and whilst it went a bit Compleat Angler for a minute it lifted the damp spirits as we both made off in different directions. A nice end to a nice week on the canal.

Over these short sessions on the canal I sampled more or less what it's all about, and on the whole everyone got along apart from one arrogant dog walker and an elderly dog walker who told me how a cyclist wanted to fight him. Guys went by with dogs they called 'Bruv' and women passed by talking about lady problems, a cyclist went by playing Coldplay full volume twice (although he played Queen today) drowning out the kids with their gangsta rap or whatever it's called now, you name it I heard it from passers by. A strong smell of something potent graced the air in the afternoons and there were people everywhere, probably too many but you'd get a smile off a pretty girl and everything seemed ok, especially those joggers with the ponytails, there's one on every canal it seems.

Despite all this mayhem the fish did their own thing, the birds flew by ignoring all our nonsense and the rats, well they did what rats do. I didn't smash it but did ok, probably better than I expected which is always good, avoiding a blank and getting some nice fish, on the five trips in total I caught 32 roach, 17 perch to 2lb, 13 dace, 7 good chub to 4lb, 2 bream, 1 golden rudd and loads of gudgeon and bleak, not bad for late February given the weather on a  crisp clear canal. 

Mugged in Broad Daylight

 Have you ever had the feeling of being observed despite no one being around, the sense that you are being stalked, your every move watched, a hidden assailant waiting for that opportunity to strike? Here is one such case and I managed to catch the dastardly culprit on camera.

It all started out pretty ordinary, although It was a freezing winters day on the upper Lea, the backwater had a thin layer of ice on it so I set up on the river as I had the whole place to myself. I was the only one mad enough to be down here but sometimes these days are special when it's just you and nature. I set up my float gear and shared the first few swims with a pair of robins which was just as well as I couldn't find any fish.

I was to roam the whole stretch that day on my own, ok it isn't too much of a walk but it kept me warm working my way along the twists and turns of the river. Just when I thought I was going to blank a bit of long trotting bought a tiny roach and I was elated. I settled down in this spot, a long narrow glide and hoped for another bite down the bottom where two trees offered some cover.

Bites came, not thick and fast but true winter style, nearly all roach with the odd chublet and dace thrown in, the float going under in exactly the same spot each time. I must have had around a dozen fish before I noticed it's gaze, I'm not sure when it appeared or from where but it was there watching, waiting.

Now herons are a funny old bird, more so when you take the time to watch them and even more so when you watch them watching you. Soon the watching turned to action as each fish was eyed up with ever increasing alertness, If it had big ears they would be pricked up, like a cat with a piece of string or dare I say a mouse, my fish were the mice for this heron.

Soon there was movement, I was still catching but after every fish the heron would bound along the opposite bank behind the two trees in pursuit, seemingly getting further upstream each time and closer to me. I can't recall to this day whether they run or hop but it seemed to be a mix of the two. I suppose ungainly would be the best description of it's gait, I can tell you one thing they sure ain't built for running.

What happened with the next fish was bizarre as the heron followed it once more until directly opposite however this time taking flight towards me all wings and beak, this swim is one where I can touch the far bank with my rod tip so the heron looked absolutely enormous as it must have been less than ten feet away. I suppose ungainly would be the best way to describe it's hovver too. I half shooed it away with a combination of shouting and rod waving although I was conscious of not breaking the latter.

Out came the camera and I took a pic of it there all grumpy on the bank, that's what we must look like when we miss a good bite. It hadn't even bothered to drop down anymore and do it's funny run, it was now waiting where the action was at and that was right in front of me. The camera stayed on, an old tiny Canon that cost me a tenner off ebay, I put the strap around the wrist and tried to catch another roach. It would be cool to capture the heron doing that hovver thing I thought.

So now I'm in again and i'm trying to play the fish and hold a camera, the heron was poised and this time I was ready too, I had front row tickets to my own private show, I would get the photo and scare the heron off again, simple. However there was a few things I misjudged, firstly the ability of being a photographer whilst fishing is not one I appear to have, secondly I didn't twig that it was a larger roach and thirdly this heron really wasn't messing about. 

Bringing the roach up and camera ready I didn't expect the poor redfin's strong dash to the far side.Oh No! Of all the places to go! The heron did it's hoover all right but quickly piled straight into the water, I pressed the camera button like mad and tried to draw the roach away - it was too late. I didn't think it would actually get it but it did with stunning accuracy. I stared dumbfounded as my line went airborne, with the heron flying away seemingly in slow motion before we parted company. Surreal was the best way to describe reeling in my float from the woods opposite, it was a complete tangle but everything was there, minus the roach and of course the heron. 

I must have sworn I really must but in all honesty what I said was a blur. The thing I remember most was looking down at the water as an oily slick from the bird made it's way downstream, the water was lapping like a speedboat had ploughed through before It settled and you could now hear a pin drop. I was glad I had the place to myself. I still did a double check, a full 360 degrees. There was no one there but me.

I thought about carrying on but it felt weird. weirder still was the feeling I was being watched again, sure enough a familiar face appeared opposite, all legs and beak, you know who. Like a fox among the chickens this heron wasn't done for the day, however I sure was! You know you need to call it a day when you are talking to the wildlife, I bid the heron a farewell begrudgingly admiring the squawky old thief. 

I got home and had a look at the pics, I never did mange to capture that hovver, I was pleased to get the action shot though although I wonder where I had the rod looking at it now. Also I can't make out the float, I was only fishing two feet deep and there's a slight red mark near the top of the wing or maybe it's under the water somewhere. Can you flick a rod so quick a float doesn't show in a photo? Well I clearly wasn't quick enough for the heron.

I often think of predators now on freezing cold days knowing what lengths they have to go to to survive, I had a nice beer in my warm home that evening and raised a glass to those toughing it out in the cold winters out there, especially the heron, after all it did have the biggest fish of the day.