Well, here we go again, down the rabbit hole into perch madness. It’s my yearly grounding. A time to reappraise any notions I have of understanding a specific quarry. In quite a perverse way I do kind of enjoy it. At least for a time, but I’m now at the point where I need to step back, and let a week or two pass. Theres some very good reasons for doing this too. Let me explain whilst I tell you how I faired back once more on the canal.
I had arrived at a lovely looking stretch, one I had fished before but not for some time, and with memories of big sergeants caught here from yesteryear, I set about my task with renewed enthusiasm. The conditions were far from ideal, bright sunshine, but with only one day to choose from and a very perchy itch that needed relieving, I carried on regardless. I mean, even in this bright light, surely that undercut bank and overhanging tree would hold a few fish?
Doing something for too long, at least from my point of view, puts you dangerously in the scopes of ‘burning out’ fast, your mojo teeters on the edge, and worst of all, any enjoyment you are clinging onto comes close to being snatched away. A very loud echo seems to be resonating from somewhere, circa October 2015, a familiar voice offers, ‘you’re doing it again, maybe its time for a break’ or something like that.
I’d been building a swim in the deep water of the boat channel, hoping that in the depth a big perch may be hiding, eyeing up the gudgeon and quite plump roach that were finding red maggot irresistible. Today was going to be a numbers game, keep catching and hope that something large falls foul to one of the the tiny red morsels falling from the sky. A hope that would fade throughout the session whilst ironically the sport did the opposite. I caught over a hundred fish, nothing bigger than 10oz, even when I presented worm instead of the usual maggot. Still, it was more active than ‘sitting it out’ something thats been the backbone of the last few sessions. It was quite enjoyable.
This change in tactics reminded me that occasionally the best ideas come from the least likely situations. In the shower. Whilst stuck in traffic. That being, thinking passively can sometimes be better than slogging it out, like it’s starting to feel I’ve been doing. Maybe a few trips on the river after dace or a days carp fishing are in needed. They could just spark an idea about these perch, or lack of them, that would otherwise lay dormant if fully focussed. And speaking of laying dormant there was still one thing that needed exploring before I headed home from my session.
The far bank swim had been untouched all day, slowly fed with worm sections and left alone, for the smells and vibrations to entice any predators nearby. I wondered if anything was waiting for me. It was time to look. For five minutes my lobworm sat pretty. Then a small tremble on the float. Interest that turned into another ten minutes of nervous anticipation. The float then did its most brilliant thing without any further warning and sailed under. On the strike elastic was stripped from the pole. This was certainly a powerful fish but not one carrying any significant weight. It was my target fish though, and quite a looker. Yes, this was a much better term to part company with the canal on. Much better than actually catching a monster. Close, but not yet. I’ll be back.
Thanks for reading,