I wandered the bank looking for a suitable place to start fishing. It was late afternoon and the sun was already starting to descend towards the horizon. First it would sink past the trees which surrounded the water. The light levels would drop but there would still be a golden glow coming from between the leaves and branches. Eventually of course, the sun would disappear completely, and the magical time between daylight an darkness would give an angler the best chance of a good fish. The witching hour. Or so the theory goes. Even if no fish turn up it’s still a glorious time to be out in the countryside. For now though I needed to find a swim.
Perch were once again my target. Not the river I fished last week but a still water a little closer to home. Marginal weed beds, overhanging trees, a defined ledge a little further out. This swim looked perfect. In no time I was set up and ready to feed the swim. I was using the pole today. It made it easier to tuck the bait right under the tree if I needed to and I could move the bait in a variety of ways. Trying to induce takes rather than sitting there motionless. This meant I could feed with a pole cup. Introduced at the start was a mixture of chopped dendrobaenas and lobworms, a little hemp, and a little glug of worm extract. Hopefully this would arouse some interest in any perch nearby.
While the swim settled I was visited by a fellow angler who was keen to know what I was after on here as he had never had much luck, apart from a few small gudgeon. Where there’s gudgeon, there’s perch. When I told him I was after perch he seemed disinterested. ‘Greedy little beggars’ he called them. I hoped that his somewhat insulting comment turned out to be true. It would certainly make my job of landing a few much easier. As I turned around to continue the conversation with him he was already two pegs down the bank. A brief and strange little encounter to say the least.
Time to fish. Lobworm was my hookbait choice, mounted on a size 10 hook. A small float stop added to ensure the worm didn’t wriggle off as this water has a barbless hook only rule. I gently lowered the bait into the swim and watched the worm fall through the clear water, writhing and contorting its body. What an attractive bait for a perch. The float settled and my plan was to leave the rig still for thirty seconds before moving it and repeating. I didn’t make it to thirty seconds though as after just a few, the float slowly slid under and a substantial fish was hooked. Unfortunately, the fish didn’t fight angrily. It plodded and rose high in the water. A bream. Not a bad one though and caught just a few metres from the bank.
Fish returned in the next peg I fed a little more of the chopped worm concoction. This time I managed to love the float several times before I had another bite. And when it came it was the fight of another bream. A half blind, sorry example of the species if truth be told. It certainly looked like it had seen better days but had a liking for a full lobworm.
Once more I fed the swim. I hoped that with the fading light, the perch I know are in here would start to feed. Problem being that the bream also like to feed during this time and they were already present in the swim. I debated moving, but in the end I stayed put, and added a few more similar sized bream to the tally. Another failure to catch a perch. I had a very pleasant time time all the same. A few lovely fish were caught. Bar the one that looked half blind. It will only be a matter of time before the days get shorter, the temperatures drop and those perch begin to feed in earnest. I’ve got a few worms with their name on.
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Until Next time tight lines