So
early on Saturday morning I managed to sneak a couple of hours in on
the canal.
My
initial plan on Friday evening was to get up early on Saturday
morning and head out with the fly rod and to take the lure rod along
as well to have both options covered. However, upon seeing the
miserable grey skies and strong breeze that faced me on Saturday
morning I decided to leave the fly gear at home and just set out with
the new lure set up I'd acquired during the week. As I only had a
couple of hours available I worked on the idea of using the time to
get to grips with casting and working a lure, also feeling if I was
to have any chance of catching in the horrid weather I was heading
out into then a lure may give me a slight advantage over the fly,
especially as the lures I was thinking of trying have a slight rattle
which should help fish to locate them in the very coloured water on
the local canal.
I
chose to have a crack at a different section of the canal from where
I'd started out my fly fishing campaign last weekend, the section I
headed for in the car was the stretch I'd walked with Hannah and the
Lurcher's the previous Sunday. While we'd been walking I'd noted a
few likely looking areas that I wanted to explore and thought this
section was as good as any for me to have my initial trials with
lures.
As
I pulled up into the parking space I'd located at the side of the
canal it started to drizzle, the sort of drizzle that doesn't look
much but after a short while soaks you through. I was here now though
and if I'm honest I was dying to get a lure into the water and fish,
sometimes no matter what the weather you just have to fish, even if
it means an uncomfortable session. If you're a fisherman you'll
understand, if not you'll think I'm mad, maybe I am?
I
had already set up my 30Plus Radar 8' Lure rod with the Rovex Ceratec
3000 reel I'd purchased and this was loaded with 15lb braid onto
which I'd tied a wire trace and now I was canal side I clipped on an
8g Slim Jim Lure. I'd chosen the Slim Jim as it was a slightly
smaller lure and I had read that it was designed to mimic the
characteristics of small coarse fish and was a very good lure for
smaller Pike and Perch.
The Slim Jim Lure
Setting
off down the steps onto the tow path a couple of fat wood pigeons
clattered out of the trees above me, obviously not happy at my
appearance in their vicinity, I'd have been annoyed with myself for
spooking them if I'd been out with the Air Rifle and not the fishing
rods! Once on the path I initially decided to head off to my right
under the bridge in the direction I'd walked with Hannah the week
previously, although for some strange reason I had a real compulsion
to go left instead? Knowing I'd seen a couple of areas I wanted to
try the week before I resisted the urge to go left and carried on
under the bridge to the right heading for the first area I wanted to
try. I started to get to grips with casting the Lure rod fairly
quickly, soon able to flick the Slim Jim into some very Pikey looking
spots without too much trouble. As I reached the next bridge the
breeze had really started to pick up and the drizzle was getting
driven into me, quickly soaking me and my kit. For some reason the
niggling urge to head left again started to play on my mind,
especially as by heading back to the first bridge and then left I'd
be turning a corner backed by woodland which offered some shelter
from the rain and wind. I could resist no longer and a quick reversal
was decided upon and I strode off back to the first bridge and more
uncharted canal.
As
I started to explore this new area of the canal I came across a spot
that just looked so fishy I had to have a cast, with what seemed to
be an old pontoon of sorts sticking out of the water on the opposite bank, it looked the perfect spot for a predator or
two to lurk around. I flicked my first diagonal cast in the direction
of the last rotted post in the water and it dropped a foot or so short
of where I felt I needed to be and sure enough, nothing. On the third
attempt my cast dropped right next to the post and I remember feeling
'that is the spot', a few slow turns of the reel handle and I felt
something hit the lure and I swept the rod to my right to strike.
Immediately I was met with the resistance of a fighting fish which at
first I thought was a small Jack Pike but I couldn't believe it when
all of a sudden it thrashed to the surface and I could see it was a small Zander, not just a Zander but the first Zander I'd ever seen let
alone hooked! A nervous couple of minutes went by while the Zed shook
it's head vigorously to rid the hook and I reached for my net,
thankfully it all went to plan and the little Zed slid into the folds of my
waiting net.
My first Zander...perfect!
It
was only a small Zed approx 12” in length but it was fin perfect, a
stunning little predator and I was over the moon with the capture.
I'd never before seen let alone caught a Zander and to christen my
new lure rod with such a superb little fish made the hour or so in
the soaking rain worth every second. Unfortunately the camera didn't
like the wet conditions as much and my attempt at a self portrait of
my little Zed and I came out a little blurred.
Wet but happy angler
After
the photos were sorted I started getting everything back in order but
the wet conditions now conspired against me, a slippery mud stricken
tow path caught me out and in a split second my right leg disappeared
to the knee into the near margin, my boot filled and was waterlogged
but I didn't care, in fact I had a wry smile on my face!
Years
ago as a youngster while fishing with my father, grandfather and
uncle Frank at Henry's pool in Cambridgeshire as I was trying to
return a Tench I'd caught I stepped on what I thought was solid
bankside and my right leg disappeared into the pool soaking my jeans
to the knee and filling my wellington boot, my father, grandfather
and uncle found this very amusing and my uncle quickly
nicknamed me Wet 'N' Dry on account of my one wet and one dry leg! From that day forward, whenever I saw my
uncle Frank my name to him was always Wet 'N' Dry, he never let me forget
and now here on the canal with a right boot full of water and
trousers soaked to the knee I couldn't help but smile. Maybe, just
maybe that niggling feeling I'd had to head left instead of right
which eventually led to my first Zander had been my uncle, the
wonderful fisherman that he was, pointing me in the right direction?
Whatever I'd like to believe what I do know is that a very wet
miserable looking morning had turned into a truly memorable morning
for me, even with a soaking from the heavens and an unexpected
dunking for my right leg from the canal.
I'd
caught my first Zander and Wet 'N' Dry could not be happier.........
