I’m talking about large perch, of course. Not large in
the Angling Times or Angler’s Mail sense – I’m talking large in relative terms.
It would make sense that the canal holds perch of a decent size, as it does
currently hold a large head of roach, all the way from fry up to (and probably
beyond) 1lb mature specimens. It also has an abundance of features, unlike some
other canals which consist of miles and miles of seemingly identical sections.
Along its whole length, from its confluence with the Don on the edge of
Rotherham to its conclusion in Sheffield city centre, there’s barely a fifty
metre stretch without a bend, or a bridge, a turning bay or a basin – it stands
to reason that there should be some proper striped lumps in there. The thing
is, up until last week, I hadn’t seen any.
Last week, armed with my drop shotting gear, I
happened to fish one of the many curious narrowings on this once busy waterway.
By narrowings I mean the sections where the canal’s width reduces to that of a
single barge – a bit like a lock, but without the actual lock(?!) if you follow
what I mean. There seems no obvious purpose for some of these narrowings, but
maybe back in the days of coal and steel transportation, these were loading
sites? This particular narrowing is a little easier to explain, as quite
clearly the reduction in canal width at this point is due to the proximity of a
foot bridge. Or maybe the narrowing was already present, and therefore was an
ideal position to erect said bridge at a later date?! Anyway, regardless of why
they are there, the narrowings do present an excellent habitat for perch.
Constructed from large deeply formed steel sheet sides, and often supplemented
with wooden piles, overhanging cross beams and buffers, they are the ideal perch
hangout from which to ambush the passing roach shoals.
For whatever reason, I’d
never seriously targeted this area before. On this particular session though,
armed with the perfect setup to exploit the features, I gave it a go. Thinking
that any residents would surely be on the larger side, I offered up a three
inch long imitation bleak – a much larger lure than I would normally use for
drop shotting. Whilst teasing the lure along the steel wall I received an
aggressive pull, and all of a sudden I was into something decent. A short fight
ensued, and the lure rod took on a nice bend as every lunge and head shake was
transmitted through the braid. Then, as my prize reached the surface, things
went slack. With my end tackle now emerging from the water, the unmistakable
dark profile of a large perch was seen making its way back to the depths.
Bugger!
I thought back to a few weeks previous, when a similar
thing had happened a mile upstream (if such a term can be used when referring
to a canal?). On that occasion I had been fishing down the edge of one of the
marina’s high-sided walls beside a bush (which had taken root in one of the
mortar lines of the wall and grown, over the years, to quite a size). A take,
followed by a short aggressive fight, culminating in a slack line. The
difference was, I couldn’t identify the culprit back then – maybe it was a
pike, or maybe a large perch? All I know is that the two events bore close
resemblance to one another. So, back at the narrowing, I was thinking that
maybe the larger than usual lure had adversely affected the hook-size to
lure-size ratio. Although it didn’t look particularly “wrong”, the size 10 hook
did look appreciably smaller than when planted inside the usual 1.5”
Yakimoshikayo-thingy type lure. Maybe the cheeky monkeys had hold of the lure
but hadn’t fully “inhaled” it, in the way perch normally do? I was in no
position to remedy this, however, having inexplicably left my spare hooks at
home – d’oh! I tried the feature again with a succession of smaller lures, but
perhaps unsurprisingly, my chance had gone.
However, in moving half a mile upstream (there I go
again), I happened upon a small group of juvenile perch right in the edge, in
around two feet of very clear water. The fish I could see were surely only of a
few ounces in weight, but with a small lure already mounted on the size 10, I
decided to see if I could tempt one. As it happened, they were not interested
in the slightest, but in the clear conditions I was shocked to see a much
larger perch lurking amongst them. It was only a brief sighting, as it turned
tail and sped off into the deeper water, but it was quite clearly over a pound
in weight, perhaps even approaching two. Who’d have thunk it? After finding no
evidence of them at all previously, I had now seen, with my own eyes, two such
specimens in one day.
Furthermore, revelation two was about to occur…..
Slightly further down the bank, a juvenile perch could
clearly be seen having a right go at my rig. Not at the lure, though. He’d
taken a shine to my drop shot weight – “shine” being the operative word! You
see, I’m currently using HTO weights which happen to be chrome plated. I think
they’re actually polished, not plated, but you get the idea.
In a most
uncharacteristic moment of uncheapskatedness some time ago, I had chosen to
purchase these rather expensive weights thinking that their quality would
surely match their price, therefore ensuring a good prolonged period of sterling
service. Indeed, their quality is beyond question, and very nice they look too –
maybe too nice, and that is the point! Thinking back, I did wonder at the time
of purchase whether they would attract fish in their own right, owing to their
splendid shininess. Anyways, stood on the bank, only moments after spotting the
second striped monster of the day, the penny had dropped…..
Revelation number two: the monster from the narrowing
encountered just one hour previous, the mysterious and substantial fish I had tussled
with by the mortar line bush in the marina several weeks since, and probably
the well camouflaged jack pike I had unintentionally disturbed down the edge a
couple of weeks prior to that – had all engulfed my reassuringly expensive
shiny drop shot weight in preference to the lure. All felt as if they were
hooked, but upon realising that they were losing the fight, they had simply let
go of the weight.
Thinking back to the incident at the narrowing, I distinctly
remember seeing the lure emerging from the water whilst still being somehow connected
to the substantial lump beneath. How could this possibly be the case if the
perch in question was not in the act of scoffing the weight?
Yes, am I now convinced
that this has been occurring, and as a progressive splodger of South Yorkshire
origin, I now have a heart-braking decision to make: do I discard all three
packets of these “reassuringly expensive” supposed investments in the interests
of increasing my catch rate (an act, effectively, akin to flushing a crisp
tenner down the shitter), or do I take the default stance of, “I’ve paid for
the buggers, so I’m bloody well gonna use ‘em”?
Of course, I’ll choose the
former – but ye gods, it’ll be through gritted teeth.