Transient Towpath Trudging - Pt.130 (Canal Zander)

It began, as many great stories do, with a casual wander into a second-hand bookshop, the kind with creaky floorboards, a faint smell of must, and shelves stacked just chaotically enough to suggest treasure. The bookshop in question was Ye Olde Booke Nook in Stratford-upon-Avon, a town more accustomed to tales of star-crossed lovers and brooding Danish princes than canal fish with attitude.

Malcolm Trench, a local historian with a fondness for angling and Ribena, had popped in hoping to find a dog-eared copy of Henry V. What he found instead stopped him cold. It was a small hardcover book, familiar in size and style the unmistakable format of a vintage Ladybird. But this one bore a title no collector, historian, or child of the seventies had ever laid eyes on: How to Catch Canal Zander.

The cover was classic Ladybird: bold illustration, earnest expressions, and a child propping up fishing rod with more determination than skill. 

A zander eyes wide and vaguely suspicious held up in aberration. Malcolm, knowing a curiosity when he saw one, purchased the book immediately for the princely sum of £1.50 and three compliments to the shop cat.

Back home, he opened it and was instantly transported.

The book told the story of Bill, an enthusiastic but slightly clueless child, and his Uncle Reg, an experienced canal angler with the fashion sense of a 1970s geography teacher and the patience of a saint. 

Their mission was simple: to catch a zander, a fish so elusive it was rumoured to only appear under cloud cover and when fed sausage rolls by hand.

As with all Ladybird books, the story was delivered in crisp, earnest prose accompanied by detailed illustrations Uncle Reg stirring his tea with a bait hook, Clive falling into the canal mid-monologue, and various waterfowl looking quietly disappointed.

Uncle Reg, clearly a man of principle, dispensed wisdom with the frequency of a wise hermit.

“Zander don’t care for jazz, Clive,” he intoned on page five. “Stick to silence or soft Morris dancing.” On another page, he cautioned, “If you see a heron, bow respectfully and say nothing. It’s probably the mayor.” These pearls of wisdom, delivered deadpan and completely without irony, were arguably the emotional heart of the book.

The book concluded, not with a triumphant catch, but with a shared pork pie and the zander swimming smugly away. “He’ll be back,” Uncle Reg said, staring into the murky water like a man who’d made peace with life’s mysteries. “He always comes back.”

Speculation soon followed. Was this a genuine Ladybird publication lost to time and budget cuts? A forgotten prototype from the company’s experimental Obscure Outdoor Pursuits series? Or the fevered invention of a particularly bored illustrator left alone with a sketchpad and a flask of Bovril?

Experts were torn. Some believed it was a real piece of forgotten publishing history. Others were convinced it was an elaborate hoax the kind of beautifully-crafted parody that emerges every few decades to remind us not to take nostalgia too seriously, and that canal fishing really isn't capturing oneself, or anyone else for that matter !!. 

Still, the signs were promising. The layout was authentic, right down to the tally number and font. The back cover even bore the old open-wing Ladybird logo and a puzzling quote from “The Canal and River Trust (Probably).” Regardless of its origins, one thing was certain: How to Catch Canal Zander had captured hearts. Online forums buzzed with discussion. Collectors posted screenshots and wish lists. And somewhere in a dusty office, a Penguin Random House intern was almost certainly being asked to “look into this.”

As for Malcolm Trench, he did once since framed the book and placed it proudly on his mantel. “It’s not about whether it’s real,” he said. “It’s about the feeling it gives you that warm, ridiculous, slightly damp sense of wonder.”, then again I might just stuck it on Ebay !!!

Have you switched off yet ? I'd a load of deadbait turned up so better get fishing !!

When I got cutside for this short late afternoon session the CRT contractors had made a right mess of the canal down at the Hot Spot because all the grass they had been cutting had literally ended up all in the water. I was amazed that there were a couple of lure chuckers managing to cast their lures within the grassy deposits and after a natter with both of them, where one of them had managed 3 fish, the other was currently blanking. 

I headed much further up the stretch where there is plenty of cover where the zander reside and with the rods having to be elevated to get the line off the surface, what I didn't expect was a zedlet within literally 5 minutes of the floats being out.

 A good start but I wanted something bigger so I went leapfrogging sections of cover to try and find them. I had a good chat with a champion drinking boat dweller on subjects such as the work, beer, whiskey and the state of the world. He was walking his 3 legged spaniel that didn't seem any worse with his affliction, apparently a coming together with a car when he was a pup was the cause. A good half an hour staring at motionless floats we parted our ways and I walked to another area where Zander reside.

There seemed to be much more fish activity here and within 10 minutes the left hand float fished tight to some reeds jumped in to life and was heading down the canal.

A better Zander this pulling one's string and after a spirited fight it was in the net. That's better, not a monster but a fish in great condition and the circle hook exactly where I wanted it, a perfect hook-up. With it retained in the net for a rest up before a piccy I got the float out again and within a few minutes this time the right hand float started to go to the left. 

A really confident bite this so I tightened up to the circle hook where as soon as the fish felt the resistance it bolted off and actually launched itself out of the water, taking the other float with it !!! Yeap a snot rocket jack pike. It was landed quickly enough but I ended up with the world's biggest tangle which called the end of the session. I'm still not feeling the canals really, but with a load of new deadbaits now, I might head up to the Hallowed to see if I can catch anything more deserving of a trophy shot.