Some Great Roach on the Canal

"Now that's proper fishing" Said the old boy as I stopped to chat after telling him I was freelining lumps of bread under a pole float with no weight. I argued that he was the one 'proper fishing' if there was such a thing and that I was normally doing what he does but I did get his point, there is something primeval about watching your bread sink through the layers before cocking the float and hopefully going under. Well it worked where I started half an hour before with a decent roach and then a nice dark 4lb bream which made a good start to the morning.

This is a summer tactic I use on the canal but I will soon be fishing as he does so I bade him farewell and headed upstream, sometimes I think I may be the only person who roves a canal except for lure anglers but hey ho thinking outside the box sometimes works if you're not in it. (random thought of the day) The next spot saw many bites but I was sure they were small roach, chublets and bleak and all I had to show was one more roach. Then a few boats going through made things hard and stirred the bottom as the flow went back and forth but it's a canal and that's what you get sometimes.

I then stopped at another spot where I saw a few small chub and had a go for them for bit of fun but they soon vanished, although I was happy to get another decent roach and then a nice bream of around 3lbs close in. I got the seat out to settle in this spot and rest the legs and after battling with the wind a bit with my light set up the float zipped under and I thought I had one of the chub on, It certainly wasn't a bream as it had too much power, but a flash of red and silver showed it was a good roach. It looked huge in the water, not 2lb huge but big nonetheless and boy did it pull, I've never had a roach go like this on the canal, hybrids yes but this was all roach and a really long fish too. I netted it after it tried to get under my feet chub style and it felt heavier than it looked, it weighed in at 1lb 4oz, a lovely roach for the canal and a new spot discovered.

I soon needed a toilet break (it's hard to go opposite a block of flats) so I went on a walk up to swim usually good for chub which had me hoping for more fish but this pound was so low, it looked almost tidal with gravel beaches showing on both banks, so this endeavour was fruitless.  I then made my way back to the roach spot only to find a boat in the process mooring up there, seriously I did think for a moment of saying " I say you don't mind mooring further down, this is a jolly good spot for fishing", I must admit I silently cursed instead, if only I had not spent five minutes trying opposite the pub on the way back I thought. 

I ploughed on along the canal eager to try where I started before going home, on the way there was a big old cruise barge, one of the wide long ones trying to do a three point turn, in a tight spot where I've seen a few run aground.

I knew I had a few minutes before the turning barge came back up as the big ones usually carve some silt up but I still found time to chat to the old boy, I was glad he was still there and we talked about what we caught like anglers do, we both had a good day but being a canny match angler he wanted to know where I caught all the bream and the roach, fair play to him. We soon said our farewells (I do wonder how he got on in the match) and I carried on full circle to where I started. One last cast before waking home, one last fish I hoped for today.

In went the last bit of mashed bread from my tupperware container, then the float followed with a bit of bread that was well past it's best squeezed rather hard on my size 12, my last slice of bread was getting stale, pieces of which are shed easily from the hook, as proved by my previous casts. Then the cruise barge came chugging back, the lady on the back was talking about theatre trying to remember the name of an actor as the boat slowed in front of me, I would have chipped in if I could have helped but my knowledge was found wanting, mind you I was well aware that my float was doing a slow theatrical slide under the water, then she did the "That's a big fish" comment as I played a bream like I did at the start of the day, it wasn't big but 3lb bream do look a size to be fair, especially to boaters, I netted it almost under the boat which had now moored just below me, slipped it back, gave the lady a friendly bit of chat, refrained from doing a Midsummer Night's Bream joke, washed the slime from the net and that was the day, a good one at that. 

I don't get many when I fish this way but usually get quality fish, it's a fun way to attack the canal without getting bleaked out in summer although I'll soon be scratching for bits like the match angler I chatted to come the cold weather, although he said he liked bleak - I won't go that far, next time I'll probably be trying to avoid them.

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Next time was a few days later as I had to get rid of the maggots I had bought for the river trip a couple of weeks back, I decided to go to the spot where I caught the nice roach hoping that boat wasn't still there. I knew that there were plenty more fish there judging by the amount of movement my bread was getting last time, a morning spent in one spot getting a few roach and bream on wag n' mag would do this time.

The difference a few days make, the boat was gone along with many others and the area now seemed open, gone too were my shorts and t-shirt replaced by trousers and a hoodie for the first time in ages, the hood was up too as the wind was in my face, even with my Autumn attire dug out of the wardrobe I still felt cold, what's more I had just one tiny roach to show for half an hour's fishing (where's pesky bleak bites to warm you up when you need them). A glance to my left saw a big cormorant emerge with a neck like an an old cob swan, it was a no brainer to move to where there was more cover for both me and the fish, the warm glow of a new found spot replaced by the cold reminder that no two days are ever the same.

In my next spot I instantly started catching perch, roach and of course bleak with the latter causing many a missed bite but I minded not as I was tucked out of the wind and getting a few fish, the roach were quality and included another cracker around the pound mark, once again a fantastic fish for the canal and like the other one it pulled with some power with a solid thud each time it spun on the surface, they are packing some weight on for winter yet seem to be all muscle.

More netter roach and a few perch followed although they seemed small in comparison, then the canal did what canals do sometimes and went from a bite a chuck to nothing, then going all bleak before another rush of roach before going dead again. I am certain this is due to fish moving in and out, (having viewed their transient nature on several occasions when the water is clear) keeping them feeding in certain spots where the bottom is silty and shallow can be quite hard, add to the mix cormorants, boat traffic and the changing direction of the flow, this can mean canal fishing is often a test but a rewarding one when you get things right.

A chop graced the surface just as I was thinking a pole float would work and I started to feel cold again as the wind whipped up further. I packed up at noon as my leftover maggots went in to fatten up the rest of the many roach that had eluded me. Two different days on the canal and two cracking roach made a for a good finale to my two week break, now it's back to looking after Dad although I can tell him some new tales from the bank which lets face it is always a good thing to chat about.

A Few Barbel Lift the Mood

 When going fishing on a weekend I usually take my radio and listen to the football but there was none on so instead I listened to many a glowing tribute to The Queen and some cracking anecdotes from people who have met her as I made my way to the river. 

En route I passed a parked police car with it's blues flashing trying to apprehend two cygnets on a busy road,  I know you could get moved on for loitering but not swanning around. I imagined the Queen would have been entertained at the thought of two of her swans occupying the local constabulary, it did raise a smile as I slowly drove past.

It had been a while since I had trotted pellet and I wondered if the fish would be on it still as the sound of children in the playing field could be heard in the distance, kicking a ball about carefree to what's going on in the world and who could blame them. Everywhere seemed a sea of green once more, it actually seemed greener than I can ever remember although I wondered if my eyes have become accustomed to yellow..

The kids soon stopped playing and it was wonderfully quiet, almost eerie, this is my excuse for setting up a pole float that took one no6 plus the weight of a 6mm pellet, bizarre I know but I just felt there would be something earth shatteringly noisy about even the smallest stick float breaking the silence as it hit the surface, feathering it as I may. I reasoned this pole float would fool that big roach that seems to follow me from swim to swim even though deep down I knew it most likely wouldn't. 

Naturally my pole float was getting owned by the current and no it didn't fool any roach early doors but a barbel got in on the act and was more than welcome. I'm not sure if it was embarrassed by being caught on a pole float but it did the most mighty of poops on my mat. Now we are used to fish doing this on occasion, even in the hand sometimes (usually the odd dace or gudgeon) a fish will leave a silty little present to be washed off. However this was the mother load, I used the net to wipe it from the mat but stupidly flicked a remaining bit with my finger, I smelt it and blimey, "What had this fish been eating" I thought, It was putrid. This barbel had an Anus Horribilis.

It didn't take long to realize the folly of my pole float as the wind got up a little so I changed to a wire stemmed stick as I could cast closer to the dark water on the far side, I had not the skill today to avoid the rushes every time it was pinged tight under the overhang, but had the luck that when I did snag up the float came gently free, one of those days that compensates for the ones where you seem to snag everything going.

My new set up earned me a tiny barbel that was almost to strong to hold and it was noticeable how strong the fish were compared to summer now that there was fresh water in the river, another decent barbel followed which was a clutch screamer, the fish were in cracking condition.

All the bites were super fast and I also managed a few chub and couple of dace which was nice, as for the roach, well they were there but were really sharp today, too sharp and I eventually caught a glimpse of my big old friend that had appeared, feeding only on the drop as per usual, as a result on came the pole float once more, pure folly I know.

The big old roach didn't really want to know only taking the odd pellet in the clear water and I kind of didn't want to catch it again have twice already achieved this feat this year. Ok I did want to but don't mind that I didn't if that makes sense, that roach won today and won with ease getting a free meal in the process.

Instead a bigger barbel drifted in near as they often do if you sit well back, when this happens when fishing you kind of go motionless even though you knew your were stealthily still before, I swear at times we hold our breath without realizing it. I couldn't resist gently lowering in my float in front and watched my pellet drop as far as I could, then the barbel puffed out it's mouth and I could see all four barbules outstretched like a hand, towards where my pellet had dropped about six inches from the bottom, it had to be my bait so I struck not waiting for the float to move and the barbel to eject the bait. It was on and did that heavy plodding fight that larger barbel seem to do, seeming almost lethargic in comparison to the smaller fish, it wasn't massive but was easily the biggest I saw in the swim today.

The morning sauntered in to afternoon so quickly although how much of that was taken up by changing floats or having a coffee I do not know but it was now a lazy approach to the day, I sheltered from the odd shower hoping any remaining barbel doo doo would get washed from my mat. I had one last go for the big roach as futile as I knew it was but I was happy to get a few good chunky ones in the end.

I pottered off slowly having got my fill, the birds were fluttering between the trees, rabbits scurried quickly in the distance upon hearing my footsteps, it sure beat spending time in hospitals and like the trip before this fishing trip was a sensory overload of the most welcome variety.

It's Been A While

 Eight weeks to be precise or close to two months was the duration of my absence from fishing, a month spent catching the train to central London each day to visit my dad in hospital and the rest of the time looking after him following his operation, now I had a window of opportunity with the caring passed on to my sister for a couple of weeks. I had only one place to go first and that was the river I crossed on a daily basis during the height of summer, even though I was on a tube train each time it didn't stop me marvelling at the greenery of the little River Gade below nor did it temper my desire to fish it once more, so this trip is dedicated to all those who really want to go fishing but for whatever reason can't.

I had walked down to the river a couple of times in the last month when finding myself early for the train, you can't keep an angler from water even when they aren't angling, it rekindled memories of getting the train here to fish back in the day when we were car less and carefree. Even during the height of the drought the river looked pretty decent so I was itching to fish the Gade and today I did.

It seemed summer had passed me by with recent rains and the fresh feel of the morning as I got to a coloured river knowing that more heavy storms were forecast at midday. Swapping the yellow dusty drought in central London for a lush damp green of the 'countryside' a few weeks later was like being in another world even if I was still within the M25. However by the time I had set up the river had dropped unnaturally as if the plug had been pulled and I knew full well all the water was going down the canal, whether that was down to neglect of not closing the lock or by design I had to chuckle, the irony of picking a day when the river had less flow than during the drought didn't dampen my enthusiasm.

I knew I would get dace as I set up where I always do below some shallows and even though I was hardly trying and my little stick float was not dotted down as it should be the bites were thick and fast as a few small to medium sized silver darts glistened in the morning sun.

In between I had a few roach and perch, the first stripey pricked it's fins up as I quickly removed my size 18 and I just held it there in my hand, there was no time to take a photo (it wasn't a big perch by any means) but there was time to stare, two, three, maybe four seconds was all that was needed to marvel, everything was perfection as the sun hit this little perch's flanks and shone through it's out stretched fins, the green of it's back was iridescent, the stripes almost jet black in contrast, it's red fins glowed orange and the dorsal spiked up as if to say "Don't mess with me" - It was a work of art. I thought how much you miss the simple things sometimes as I slipped the little sergeant back at my feet and watched it take off across the sunlit gravel to vanish in the gloomy water once more.

More dace, perch and roach followed although I lost quite a few maybe due to the surprisingly strong wind or more likely due to the unsurprisingly rusty angler, one decent roach needed the net after losing a similar sized one earlier trying to unhook it in the water, not huge by roach standards but "it'll do" as they say.

I roved downstream into quite a strong breeze keeping an eye on the increasing cloud levels and the ever darkening skies, sure enough the storms were on their way but I had to get down there, down to the bottom of the stretch. I wasn't heading for any super swim nor was there any wonder fish caught aside from a few more dace and roach here and there, plus the odd gudgeon and chublet (some of the dace were a much better stamp mind) No I just had to get down to the bottom to see my train. 

I had to look at the tube going by, the same ones I spent a month on going to hospital in London. Every time without fail I would look down at the little river but not this time, this time I would look up with my chin up. I wondered where the people were going on this tube train as it crossed the moor like I had, then I thought of all the nurses I got to know in the hospital, the cooks, the cleaners and indeed some of the patients who's bravery and optimism were inspiring. I sat there in solitude and packed up, reflecting on what my dad's health would be like and whether reading this blog would rekindle his desire to go fishing again, then you wonder what the future holds for you and how much a drag is it getting older, then you finally realize you're just thinking too much and it's much simpler to just count how much you caught today. 

I was a fine three hours fishing that's for sure and it was good to see the river showing signs of recovery even if like the rest of us it will never be in the prime it once was. It is still a nice place to spend a few enjoyable hours, there is after all much worse places you could be.