Transient Towpath Trudging - Pt.126 (Operation Zandstorm)

It all started in the 1950s, when a few very posh men in tweed hats decided that British fish just weren't exotic enough. “Perch are lovely,” they said, “but wouldn’t it be splendid if we had a fish with fangs?”

Enter the zander a continental predator from Europe, basically the lovechild of a pike and a dracula cosplay. They were introduced into the Great Ouse Relief Channel in Norfolk, and at first, they behaved... like tourists. Quiet. Curious. Polite.

That didn't last.
Operation Zandstorm !!

By the 1970s, you see the zander were bored a bit like me at the minute waiting for my VR to be accepted, they’d heard whispers of murky canals, endless corridors of silt, dog poop bags and shopping trolleys... and opportunities.

So they hatched a plan.
Escape the fens. Infiltrate the turd turbid Midlands. Conquer the canals.

Rumours spread that a rogue zander named Big Baz spearheaded the operation. Baz allegedly bribed a swan for passage and travelled through the Middle Level Navigations with nothing but a Lidl bag full of gudgeon and a dream.

One legend claims a group of zander disguised themselves as perch and got waved through a fisheries checkpoint with nothing more than a wink and a flick of a dorsal fin.

Now, let’s be real zander aren’t great with maps. 

So how did they make it to Birmingham, Coventry, Leicester? Certain “enthusiastic” anglers allegedly borrowed a few zander and accidentally released them into new waters. In buckets. In broad daylight. Probably while someone shouted “Dave, you absolute weapon, that’s not a perch!”

No one was ever officially blamed. But one guy named Martin hasn’t been allowed near a canal lock since 1983. By the late 80s, zander were everywhere. They liked the canals. They liked the turbid water. And they LOVED the all-you-can-eat buffet of unsuspecting roach and rudd.

Fisheries managers panicked !!
Environmentalists wept 😭

Meanwhile, zander were forming underwater ska bands and holding illegal fish raves under the Gas Street Basin. 

The Grand Union, the Oxford, the Ashby, the South Stratford even the Coventry Canal all had zander in them, laughing through their gills as they dodged electrofishing teams and posed for anglers' Polaroids. How long will this last though as they are being persecuted by the Canal and Rivers Trust who are determined to get them out. (to boost the Christmas party fund)

Now, zander are part of Midlands canal folklore. Old boaters swear they’ve seen a zander the size of a stretched out Staffy in the Staffs & Worcs, kids dare each other to swim near Zander Alley by the old lock, and somewhere in the dark water near Tipton, it’s said Big Baz still swims wearing sunglasses, sipping canal vodka, and planning his next move.

Talking about planning the next move, well I checked the other day when Buffalo Si from River Masters gave me a nudge to get over quick to an area of canal that was Zander soup. His floats were going off literally as soon as the manky deadbaits hit the water. I ended up joining him bankside where I managed a 6lber and near 7lber in quick succession. An eyeopener certainly and fish are often creatures of habits so were they here a year later ?

Only one way to find out !!!

Now unusually for me I roped in Ben to come with me for this trip. Ben will be 16 in July 😮 and despite being diagnosed with autism and global development delay when he was a toddler at nursery, his challenging needs are to be honest relatively easy to live with, we are lucky he has always very happy and rarely sad, and never kicks off, unlike many other kids like Ben with special needs. 

He is unlikely to be able to live independently however, you never know though with support that might change later in life as he is making progress as the years go by.

Sam was with his mother up in Chester to see his mate Matthew you see with a boatload of tackle I donated to him as when I took them both fishing, when he stopped with us, he really did love it. 

So much so he bought some fishing tackle on his own accord and started to fish some of the waters locally where he lived, so Sam and I sorted out quite a bit of tackle for him, it was only gathering dust anyway, so it was good to see it go to a good home. 

At first I asked Ben, "Do you fancy coming fishing with Daddy" and he said "No, Thankyou". In a tone that only Ben can come out with (very somber), I asked him again and he put his hands over his eyes, which means, don't ask me again. I didn't though, so instead I said, "There is lots of trains that go past you know !!, you'd like that !!"

"So do you want to go fishing ?"

"Ooooooooookkkkkkkkay" 

To be honest I was only going to go for a couple of hours anyway, and I'm sure he would be fine when we were there. He is one hell of a fidget though, he literally cannot keep still half of the time, so it would be interesting how he got on. No harm in trying now is there, I brought a chair anyway so I was hoping he would chill out in that, watching the trains go by. 

What I didn't expect was another angler fishing the stretch of cover and that was Mike, he was also after Zander and managed one before we left. There were three boats moored up which was a rare sight and I got speaking to one of the owners who after having a bit of a moan about me and Mike nattering right next to one of the boats, actually turned in to a pleasant chat. The CRT got a scathing and she also told me about a few of the pollution incidents she had reported recently. 

Anyway the fishing well, a missed a few runs where I didn't hook up which usually means small Zander and sure enough I did managed a small'un when I was speaking to the lady.

"You can have it for the BBQ if you want ?"

"Errrr, I know what gets dumped in here, no you're ok"

I only stopped an hour and a half, Ben well he seemed to enjoy himself so I need not have worried really.