Canal Roach: Trapped in a Sisyphean Loop - Pt.11

There comes a point in every angler’s life when he realises two things. Firstly, his knees now make the same noise as a keepnet pole being assembled in January, and secondly, the little lad he once carried down the towpath clutching a net bigger than himself is suddenly fifteen years old and asking if you’ve got Wi-Fi in the Jimny.

Fifteen!

I still remember taking Sam fishing for the very first time, eleven years ago, when he believed catching gudgeon was comparable to wrestling crocodiles on the Zambezi. Back then he’d sit there in oversized wellies, chucking maggots into the margins while asking questions every fourteen seconds. “Why do fish like worms?” “Do perch have ears?” “Can pike eat ducks?” “Would a shark survive in the canal?”

Now he just grunts at me like a teenage badger unless the conversation involves trainers that cost more than my centrepin reel collection. Mind you, there’s hope yet. He still loves the River Wye. 

Mention wading chest-deep after barbel or stalking summer chub with floating bread and suddenly the lad reappears from beneath the hormonal fog. 

There’s something reassuring about that. Rivers still beat Playstations. Nature still beats TikTok. Bread still beats £14.99 wonder-baits endorsed by a man called Darren wearing mirrored sunglasses indoors.

So with renewed optimism I stopped off at The Case is Altered on the way home from work.

Now there’s a pub.

Over four hundred years old and still stubbornly refusing to modernise itself into a gastropub called “The Rustic Spoon” selling deconstructed pies on roof tiles. No televisions. No neon lager signs. 

No artisan hummus. Just beams blackened by centuries of smoke, a proper pub, and enough atmosphere to make you expect a highwayman to emerge from the shadows asking if you’ve seen his horse. Use your mobile you’re fined a quid and it goes to charity, and I’m not joking. 

Apparently it was originally called “The Case” because the building was tiny, which is fair enough because if you swing a cat in there you’ll hit three pensioners and a packet of pork scratchings. Somewhere along the line when it was extended it became “The Case Is Altered,” which sounds less like a pub and more like something a medieval solicitor muttered before charging somebody six groats an hour.

Ben Jonson used the phrase. Shakespeare used it. Tudor playwrights used it. Nowadays it’s mostly used by anglers after dropping a net pole into deep water. Anyway, after a pint and a moment of deep reflection involving crisps, I decided against all available evidence and basic common sense to return to Tramp Alley.

Now most sane men, having previously endured a session involving missed bites, tangled rigs and enough incompetence to qualify for a government grant, would probably choose another peg. Not me. Oh no. I approached it with the confidence of a man who has watched three YouTube videos and now considers himself tactically elite. This time there would be changes. Serious changes. Tactical changes. The sort of changes football managers describe before losing 4–0 away at Rotherham.

Out went the lift method.

Out went the overcomplicated rig that looked like it had been designed by NASA during a power cut.

In came Sensas 3000 Gros Gardons groundbait with a suspiciously technical “nadger” of liquidised bread. Angling has become wonderfully scientific these days. Thirty years ago my grandad used bread mashed in an old ice-cream tub and occasionally caught fish so large they altered local geography. Now every bag of groundbait sounds like a Formula One component.

Then came the float.

The Dave Harrell SENSITIP WAGGLER.

A float so sensitive, according to the description and Nic from Avon Angling (who is on cloud 9 having caught a 4lb crucian recently), that fish merely thinking about the bait should register as a bite. Crosshead insert. Ultra-low resistance. Enhanced visibility. Adjustable tip. It sounded less like tackle and more like something used by heart surgeons. Naturally I spent twenty minutes adjusting it by microscopic amounts before eventually convincing myself that the red tip was psychologically intimidating the roach.

The rig itself was wonderfully simple. small float, centrepin reel, Maggots. Straight-through 2lb line. Proper old-school fishing. The sort of set-up that whispers, “I’ve stopped trying to impress everybody.”

Of course, simplicity in fishing lasts approximately four minutes before chaos resumes.

There are fishing sessions that fill a man with confidence, pride and dreams of becoming the next Richard Walker. Then there are sessions like this one, where you spend four hours staring at a float harder than a pensioner stares at a self-service checkout while questioning every life decision that led you to sitting next to a canal known locally as “Tramp Alley”.

The day started with optimism. Foolish optimism. The kind of optimism only anglers and people who buy scratchcards possess. Armed with the Angling Direct float rod, which has all the subtle finesse of a Victorian lamp post, I settled in convinced the roach would be queuing up to fling themselves at my maggots like drunk blokes outside a kebab shop at 2am.

After approximately three geological eras, the float finally buried and I struck into what felt like a decent fish. The rod reacted with all the sensitivity of a scaffold pole, the fish came off after a couple of seconds, and I was left staring into the middle distance muttering words that would have got me excommunicated in medieval times. Thankfully it didn’t feel massive because losing a proper lump this early in the session would probably have resulted in me throwing the centrepin directly into the canal and taking up bowls.

Naturally I assumed this first bite meant the swim had switched on. It had not. In fact the canal immediately died harder than Woolworths. There were the occasional signs of life: a tiny fish topping here and there, and at one point a skimmer launched itself completely clear of the water while being chased by something nasty underneath. It looked like a silver frisbee being hurled by Satan himself. This at least confirmed there was more life in the canal than there was in my swim.

It seemed like hours passed (it was 2). My backside had fused permanently to the chair then, just as I’d mentally started planning my next hobby, the float slid purposefully toward the reeds opposite. I struck and all hell broke loose. The fish bolted sideways like it had seen HMRC approaching. The centrepin screamed, my thumb instantly became an emergency braking system, and for a few moments I genuinely believed I’d hooked either a giant hybrid or an escaped Labrador.

The fight was glorious. Proper lunges, savage runs, the rod bent over magnificently despite possessing all the refinement of industrial plumbing equipment. Eventually the fish surfaced and I nearly fell off the chair.

A tench.

A BLOODY TENCH.

I honestly stared at it like I’d just hooked a crocodile in the South Stratford. Beautiful olive green flanks, little red eyes glaring at me as if annoyed I’d interrupted its afternoon. Turns out I’d actually caught one here years ago (2014) according to the blog archives, though I’d assumed Barry the Otter had long since converted the local tench population into compost. Suddenly the whole grim session felt worthwhile. Isn’t fishing ridiculous? You can spend 2 hours fishless and questioning your own sanity, then one surprise tinca turns up and suddenly you’re driving home grinning like an escaped lunatic.

Mind you, one thing did become painfully obvious while taking the photos in the gloom: the iPhone 11 front camera is now about as sharp as a mashed potato sandwich. Time for an upgrade I think. As for the roach… where have they all gone? Have they emigrated? Joined witness protection? Been entirely consumed by Barry and his extended family? Nobody knows. But one thing is certain: Tramp Alley can absolutely do one for a while.

Next trip, new venue.

Probably still disappointment.

Canal Zander - The Hallowed II Chronicles Pt.10 (Tench hopefully)

The red-eyed Doctor Fish! This is the tench. And he's worth angling for. He is as tricky as the carp, and when you have hooked a good one you will know all about it. I've not come close to a Tench down here yet but others have managed them but they show often when you least expect it and often well in to dark for those that enjoy that sort of thing. 

Why are they called the Doctor Fish? It was supposed that sick or wounded fish rubbed themselves against the tench's slimy flanks and were promptly made well. There seems to be some truth in this claim. Many year ago apparently an angler living in Monmouthshire suffered from a skin disease caused by his work he was is a steel-worker. The doctor's treatment didn't work. All the ointments and lotions weren't a bit of good. 

Now this man caught a tench. In returning it to the water, some of the tench's slime stuck to his hands. When he went home he suddenly realized that his hands were more comfortable. He'd heard the story of the Doctor Fish so he began to wonder. 

He caught two or three more tench, took them home and kept them in a pond in his garden. Daily he took one out with a net, wiped his hands on the fish's flanks, put it back... and now his hands are as free from disease as mine are.

What does the tench look like? He is bronze-green in colour and has enormous fins and red eyes. 

He has two small barbs, one each side of his mouth, and he is extraordinarily smooth to the touch. How big? I have read that the record tench weighed 15lb and 3 ounces, but a fish of 6 lb was rare in the 70's when I was born. 

However, the tench is a strong fish his build tells you that and a two or three pounder's strength is quite surprising. 

With modern high protein baits from the boilie brigade over the years the tench year on year have been getting bigger and bigger much like the population. 

Now it has been recorded that tench bury themselves in the mud of ponds dried up in a drought; then they go to sleep and wait for the rain to fill the pond up again. 

Tench can hang on to life with precious little air to keep them alive. You can catch one, put it in wet moss, weeds or whatever is handy and suitable, and you can cart him miles to new water and he won't be a scrap the worse for the journey. The tench, of course, is a summer fish. In the winter don't waste any time trying to catch him. 

He is down in the mud and weeds at the bottom of the pond having a winter sleep. Sometimes on a warm winter day a tench might take an interest in an offered bait, but it is so rare that it is not worth wasting time in trying for one. You will find a few tench in the rivers, as you will bream, but still water is the home of the tench and in that still water there must be weeds plenty of them.

There is a belief that tench are, in a way, governed by the breathing of the plants. You know, of course, that in the day time plants breathe in carbon dioxide and give off oxygen. When the sun has set the same plants take in oxygen and give off carbon dioxide. 

The tench need oxygen all the time so they hang around the water weeds while they are giving off oxygen and get away from them while they are giving off carbon dioxide. And I'm sure that this is correct. So when fishing for tench in daylight keep near the weeds, but very early morning or evening fish away from the weeds. Don't forget this, will you?

Anyway this is the 'Hallowed' after all so the problem is working out how to fish it as there is so much to go at. I was fishing as accurate as Jon Arthur after a massive bender last time I was here, so this time I'd try a helicopter feeder approach out where clipping up and a far bank maker would hopefully concentrate the bait in a smaller area. 

A feeder stuffed with groundbait and chopped worm and a worm and maggot cocktail on the hook. I'd also have some sweetcorn for the hook to mix it up a bit. Oh and being the hallowed, a deadbait out on a running rig and bobbin that I could leave do it's own thing rather than try and watch a tip AND a float which to be honest would have been a pain in the proverbials !!

Anyway better get fishing hasn't I !!!

What I didn't expect was right from the off was just how many fish were straight out in front of me. The rudd and perch were queuing up to get the bait. The maggots and worms were getting up even when the feeder was on the drop.

I retained a few in the landing net to show the stamp of the fish. The bigger ones were over a pound I[m sure. Now I'm using crude tackle for the Tench, so a size 10 hook and 5lb fluro carbon hook-link and they didn't seem to have a care in the world !!!

After a boat went through around 8.00pm I thought that was that, but no within 15 minutes the perch started biting again and then the rudd followed soon after.

So for the last part of the session I decided to switch to sweetcorn on the hook. I'd run out of groundbait by this point because, well I didn't think I'd be on the fish to quick and how many bites I was getting.

I missed loads as well, I'm sure it was because often the helicopter hook-link stops were not as grippy on the line as I'd like. So that bolt-rig effect wasn't as effective in nailing the fish. A change that I need to do next time. I bet fishing a float with the maggots falling slowly through the water column would have been the best way to fish the swim. The air temperature had dropped dramatically by this point and it started to feel nippy. Out of the blue a proper unmissable bite and something decent was pulling back. 

Not a tench sadly but a hard fighting hybrid maybe a couple of pound. As dusk came and went it was fingers and toes crossed for a tinca, but oddly the bites were hard to come by. Eventually a drop back bite a fish was hugging bottom and bouncing around. 

A bootlace eel had picked up the bait and decided to make a complete mess of the rig in the process. So that called the end to my session. I couldn't be bothered to set-up again and with the deadbait rod biteless in over 4 hours I headed back home. An enjoyable frantic session, you can see why the predators get big here, there are plenty of fish to feed on.  

Transient Towpath Trudging - Pt.65 (Canal Tench)

An area know as the 'Struggs' (® Buffalo Si - River Masters) those likeminded anglers that fish this neck of these quiet woods know it has a repetition for throwing up some fishy imposters within these largely untapped waters. Not only have carp been spotted here and pike have been caught which is unheard of because of the turbidity, but more recently there have been rumours of Tench been mulling around as well.

Now the Tench, well it stands on his head to feed and makes one hell of a mess on the bottom. Fiddles with the bait for ages before he takes it. The legendary 'doctor fish', he is supposed not to be eaten by pike. However nobody's told the pike that yet. !!! 

To be fair I've heard from a couple of sources now when I have been trudging the towpaths that in years gone by when this canal was non-navigable that it was chocked full of week and gin clear. There were plenty of Tench to be caught apparently, are there any left ?

For this short (isn't it always) after work session I'd take a float rod with some red maggots and worms and some groundbait mixed with some 2mm grubber pellets (with the addition of some chopped worm), and naturally have a Zander rod out, because well there are Zander here after all. 

The Tench were spotted where the bank is high and there are reeds on towpath side. To be fair I have fished this area before, because you can tuck yourself away from the towpath and get in and amongst the reeds. Now early June mornings, with the mist rising slowly off the water, are traditionally associated with Tench. 

Very few of these fish are caught in the depths of winter, and the capture of a Tench weighing three and a quarter pounds by an angler fishing through the ice makes strange reading. Such incidents cause little more than a ripple of surprise in angling circles, though. The pattern of Tench fishing in summer, when the temperature is high and reed-growth luxuriant, remains un- altered. Very little of it is done in canals, or in any other water, once the first frosts begin to whiten the banks.

It was once thought that Tench hibernated in the mud all through the cold months. Available evidence indicates that this theory is largely false. What is more likely is that Tench lie dormant, eating very little and using up a minimum of energy. I once observed a Tench lying close to a decaying reed- bed one November afternoon at Somers Packington fishery. 

It did not move when I tossed a stone into the water, and it even allowed me to prod it with my rod-tip. There was no exterior evidence of disease. Eventually, it swam away very slowly. There seemed to be little doubt that this fish was in a semi-torpid state.

In their proper season of summer, canal Tench sometimes feed well but are not often seen, except in the clearest of water. They can sometimes be located by signs of 'bubbling' - patches of bubbles rising to the surface, usually in or near reed-beds. If bubbling can be seen, that swim is always worth trying. The bubbles could be caused by bream, but Tench are the most likely cause.

I think it would be true to say that Tench seldom rise to a surface-fished bait during daylight hours, so for all practical purposes it would be largely a waste of time to look for them at this level. In the clearest of water, they may occasionally be seen cruising through the reeds or, perhaps, feeding off the underside of lilies. 

But in general, the angler seeking Tench should not expect to see them often. In-fact an area I know where some reside the angler caught them in the dark by fishing a foot from the bank over some freebie pieces of sweetcorn, I've earmarked that for a future session so watch this space. 

Anyway better get fishing hadn't I !!!!

Anyway for a good forty five minute or so the float was sitting nicely with some reasonable clarity the Zander rod just to my right.

Some thunder and lightning and some rain kept me entertained because the odd little bob there wasn't much happening. Then the circus appeared, you see boat after boat after boat, after well you get the picture and I couldn't get in to a rhythm. 

Being very shallow any boat going through stirs up the bottom so fishing is often a waste of time. Dawn, Dusk in to dark clearly the best time but I didn't have that available to me. It was nice in the sun though over 18 degrees so in the end I had my waterproof jacket off and my sleeves rolled up.

The sum of my efforts till frustration got the better of me well a bootlace eel and a schoolie Zander that dropped off. Still there isn't smoke without fire so this reccy mission will be turned in to a proper session sometime, I fancy a canal Tinca especially if it's locally. 

Transient Towpath Trudging - Pt.32

Preparation in my cooking carries over to my fishing where the rods are pre-rigged, the baits are sorted and often the car already loaded prior to the session. It means less dillydallying around in the morning where often I roll out of bed and within 10 minutes after dropping the kids off at the pool I'm on my way. 

I'm sure much of it is my engineering make-up where often planning and preparation is a key part of the job and it's just something I have done since day dot. 

Holiday's like a military operation, the Wife rolling her eyes not getting the reason why I do it, humour me, you needn't get in the way my Dear !!!. 

Now luckily the countdown to river season the time has passed far quicker than I thought because these short and sweet sessions just fishing for bites has thankfully kept me interested.

What has also kept my pecker up has been the word from the street from the likeminded which has been something I wanted in on before the rivers open. 

You see the Hallowed over the last week or so had produced some cracking Zander even bigger than my quest concluder and after listening to the jungle drums beating louder and louder I needed to fit in a session in to ones busy schedule. 

A 13lb'er caught on the lure witnessed by an angler I've shared towpaths with a few times Buffalo Si as he fishes the same waters as me, who not long after witnessing the lure angler putting the fish back caught a double himself, a fish of 12lb and 5 ounces. 

His one session though would take up 5 of mine, but hey it's probably why his numbers came up far quicker than mine did, clearly more resolve but his probability massively reduced when he decided to spend time on a water that didn't appear on my radar until very late in the quest. 

All very encouraging mind you, as in the Midlands we must have one of the best bits of canal for not only variety of fish but also the size of the predators. So before that kick up the backside I need to go and try for an even bigger canal Zander than my 11lb 8oz quest concluder it was back to the grime, back to the slime. 

The last session at the bream and zander swim I'm almost certainly I saw tench roll so to be honest I didn't need much of an excuse to try out the glowing led floats fashioned up by lathe user and blog reader Jon Pinfold.

A tiny CR322 battery provides the power to the LED within the tip and once they are  assembled together the assembly is completed by mating the tip thread to the battery housing thread which is packaged in the main body. 

Ok probably not the type of float I'd used for canal fishing as it's more of a trotting pattern but these are not tackle shy fish, but wild fish in the canal so despite being 5 and a half BB weighted the size of the float didn't bother me.

So an old rod (Middy White Knuckle CX 10ft Waggler Rod) gathering dust in the garage was dusted off and an unused centrepin in need of a service was fitted with 5lb line and I was all ready to go.  

Baits well after balling in some sweetcorn and dead maggot laced groundbait I'd fish a piece of sweetcorn and a worm on a size 12 hook and fish in to dusk and beyond. I much prefer fishing early morning on the canals if I'm honest but maybe I was missing something ?

I'm sure dusk may well throw up the bigger fish so after losing a good zander here and catching a couple of nice fish I'd also fish a zander sleeper rod tight to some reeds over at the far bank. 

A boat had just gone by when I got there a 6.45pm but then there was no boats till I left so the balled bait went out and the swim had a decent amount of time to settle. 

Obviously there was no need to put the battery in the float just yet as dusk was around 3 hours away. The float was shotted in a tall glass with water and that meant without the battery in the float was sitting a little taller than I'd like.

It just meant I had to add a no4 and jobs a good'un. The first bite came quite quick which I missed but soon after a bite developed again a fish taking a liking to the worm corn cocktail.

Unlike the light method which are quick bites that you need to be on it straight away, this couldn't be more different. You could brew a cup of tea and take the first slurp before striking in to the fish. Not a bad thing especially at my age where my reactions are not like they first were.

6 bream succumbed to the tactics and as dusk was approaching I thought it would kick up a notch, oddly though the bites tailed off.

No sign of the tench whatsoever and even the Zander rod remained motionless. There wasn't any fish topping either almost like the fish had gone to sleep or something or put their feet up and donned their smoking jackets. 

Shame really as the illuminated float was doing a cracking job and was so easy to see even in the pitch black.

I illuminated the Zander rod by torchlight and fully expected that to move, but no the Zander were not at home. A little disheartened really, but when a match on a local canal was one with a 1lb, to be honest I shouldn't moan. A few nice fish and the float, well, the picture say it all, good job Jon.  

Warwickshire Avon - Billies and Bilocation

This deep and rather pedestrian stretch of the Warwickshire Avon always has looked like there would be Tench in residence. Having looked back at my blog archives I'd fished it a couple of times without anything of note let alone a tinca so Pt.1 and Pt.2 meant I couldn't be bothered with Pt.3, 

Then out of the blue a fellow blogger who also fishes this stretch pointed me to a facebook page where not only did a single Tench >5lb grace the landing net in a recent match, but the 0.000001mm hook length and tiny hook users had lost Tench due to being under gunned for the hooked quarry. 

No smoke without fire and all that so after letting the bait bombardment and their bellies settle I was making my way after work to have a dangle myself. To be honest I think the Wife might be doing a Hancock behind my back as she is actively encouraging me to go fishing whenever I can, but then she knows what it does for ones wellbeing.

I cannot complain I suppose. Now here they are two notable areas that are thick with lilies that are likely holding spots and it was the second area downstream that just screams Tench I'd be fishing. 

So a single main rod approach for this short session, a float fished lift method style on the pin with worm or corn just off the lily pads and a method feeder with corn as a sleeper. 

I don't fish the float nearly enough and its almost like a stillwater here and sometimes, as a roving angler with a long fishing day ahead of me on the Thursday where I'd taken a well deserved day off, a few hours chilling I'd find some peace and solitude here.

The England verses Germany match was on so hopefully the banks were deserted, then again outside of the matches its usually dead anyway, well apart from the middle and lower end of the stretch that sees the early season keen Barbel blankers.

I'm one of those at the minute but hey, its like this year after year for the first 4 to 6 weeks anyway. Worm did the trick for the 3rd place winner that banked the Tench where it looked a tough match looking at the weights, so ones thriving wormery came to the rescue.

Now the winner a small dace over 6lb, that is poor for up here where often most anglers donning their seat-boxes often all catch over 10lb and when you stumble on the bream shoals there are budging keepnets to be had. Some chopped worm, dead maggots and a smattering of groundbait to kick the swim off....

....better get fishing hadn't I....

As expected I had the whole stretch to myself so as I can drive along the river I pre-baited one swim 30 pegs below the starting peg and would fish it for the last hour in to dusk. 

I did have a wander to see if I could see any feeding Tench but nothing was obvious but the two chosen swims looked perfect.

The fish bite cam within minutes and it was a greedy perch that hovered up the worm on the drop. The first swim was 8ft, the last 11ft or so, there is some good depth here even close in, but even fishing on he deck like I did the perch from that one bite keep on coming.

A decent stamp too, not the intended species but at least I was getting a few bites. A switch to sweetcorn the float remained lifeless put a worm on, another perch within seconds. I lost count at the amount of perch I caught in the end having to reuse the worms if I could as I was getting through them at a rate of knots.

So with no Tench showing in this swim without even a single bleep on the method feeder rod I headed to the deeper prebaited swim where upon arrive what looked like some feeding bubbles.

 YES !!!!!

Well NO !!!! actually because the same thing happened, perch after perch as soon as the worm hit the deck or sometimes before. Hmmmm not good, a switch to sweetcorn, nothing, again the sleeper rod fished a little further out, beep-less. 

As the sun was setting and another switch to worm, the umpteenth perch was determined to spoil my plans. So I decided to call it a day half an hour early, I dread to think how many I'd have caught if I fished up in the water and for them properly. A decent net full I'd imagine. 

Warwickshire Avon - Silk Snatchers and Simeonites

With the local rivers seemingly stuffed full of bait fish at the moment and the river being clear, what to fish for. Certainly the Barbel don't seem to be interested in a stretch where usually there are fish in numbers. Spawning who knows but after speaking with other anglers, they are wondering the same thing, where have they gone.

For this short morning session I decided to fish in and among the lily pads, an area that has not only thrown up carp in the past, but also tench believe it or not. Even with the river as low and clear as it is, the float stop need to adjusted time and time again, because it has some depth to it as well. 

Where the bait eventually settles away from the shoals of hungry bleak and dace, one would assume it would be a nice place for a Tench to hang out away from those that would prefer to partake in the rave.

I don't float fish enough because when I do, I really enjoy it, the concentration required is something a little different and when that static float eventually starts to move, visually as a fisherman there is nothing quite like it.

I fished lift style under a large crystal insert waggler and its a great method, the float lifting out the water and almost settling on the surface when the bulk shot is displaced off the bottom when the fish picks up the bait.

I used groundbait initially to get some bait on the bed, a mixture of dead maggots, hemp and small pellets. The fizz on the surface evident it was adding some attraction. Corn for bait because maggot would pick up unwanted small fish such the biomass at this time of year. There were a few pike hits when I was there, one jack even launched itself out of the water such the ferocity.

Sadly straight to the point, after half an hour the first bob of the float and then it sailed away, a small dace of three ounces decided that it would like a gob stopper. And that's as exciting as it got. Once the sun came up the amount of small fish I could see on the surface was ridiculous. The bigger fish seemingly not interested, even the bream.

But that's fishing for you, sometimes it's nice to be out, especially when you can watch a feeding kingfisher, a novice in a rowing boat flapping and flailing, a butterfly chasing a dragonfly. 

Warwickshire Avon - Eartha Kitts and Eager-beavers

It’s amazing what you remember when growing up, I lived in South Africa and they used to have these huge drive in outdoor movie theatres. You used to park your car next to a speaker post, unhook the speaker and clip it on your window. The parking spots were angled such that even for a nipper sat in the back you could see the screen no problem. The last film I remember seeing was E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial which had just come out so you can see just how long ago it was.

So that was a time when BMX bikes were all the rage and twin brother Chris and I were part of the ‘scene’. My Dad a precision engineer, made us the most trick ‘trick nuts’ you’d ever seen, the envy of the locals such the quality. The chemical blacking finishing it off, visually they looked superb and lasted the test of time, as did our Diamond Back bikes that took a heck of a pounding.

Now we could do with an outdoor cinema like that around these parts because it would be 31 degrees later, yes you heard right, 31 DEGREES the mercury would rise to those uncomfortable temperatures as we headed in to the afternoon where sod fishing, I’d be lightning the lumpwood and enjoying a rather large glass of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc. It was still 18 degrees when I got bankside though and this session was a bit of a reccy.

I’d not been up this end for a while, a rather deep and pedestrian stretch of the Warwickshire Avon where I’m yet to track down its monsters. It’s a huge body of water and in places the deeper registered over 20 foot of water. I’ve only really tried for Zander and Pike and to be fair had some nice fish but I fancied trying for a carp or tench that apparently reside here as well.

I’m trying to tick the species off the Bloggers Challenge Chart and then when I’ve managed to tick off the majority, get back to fishing how I usually do this time of year. Surface fishing for Chub and fishing the smaller waterways and streams for whatever comes along. It’s gone quite well up to now though and the challenge has only just kicked off.

When I’ve been walking the banks here I’ve certainly seen what looks like tench bubbles, but they are most likely to be bream as I’m sure the tincas are few and far between. This time of year though the margins are littered with lily pads and to be honest, you can understand why they would like it here, it just ‘looks’ right for them.

The carp, well there are here as well, to be honest having not fished for them, I haven’t really tried to find where they hang out but I’ve certainly seen them, in-fact the last time I was here, one launched himself out of the water and it looked a cracking fish.

So with the sun out what a better time to have more of a look. Now in the summer months, I’ve done quite well using lures for the Zander here, so this session would be a bit of double dipping. A lure rod and also my scope rod with a method feeder baited with a small pineapple pop-up. It’s very deep even close in so a very visable bait indeed to try and stop a meandering fish in their tracks. The groundbait moulded around it a mix of sweetcorn, krill, fishmeal, a mixed sized handful of pellets and hemp.

The plan because you know I always have one, was to also bait a swim at the start of the session that I’d return to, to see if there were any feeding fish that had found the bait. Now I’d also have my polarised sunglasses to try and see if I could see any carp on the top as well and have some bread as back-up if I stumbled upon any when I was mooching about.

So enough of the preamble, let’s get fishing !!!!

So straight to the point what a tough session, I managed a couple of small bream from one swim but the carp and zander were nowhere to be seen. I moved around a bit as well and in around the lilies I expected to find at least one, but sadly nothing. Even the predators were not having it, a couple of follows that was it.

It was one of those sessions I'd rather forget, now, need to get on and make a jug of Pimms. There were signs of feeding Tench as well, but bites not forthcoming, maybe a float set-up tight to the lilies might have been the better option.

Next session, down the little Alne with Sam.