Searching For A Pulse

Not long ago a small package arrived containing some Berkley pulse minnows and along with it plans to use these with a small selection of other lures was born, the idea being to spend a few hours  fishing the canal in hope of the odd perch latching on to them, with the recent snow freezing the canal and sadly an ill pet to look after, those plans had to be shelved.

It was nice to finally get down the canal and helped somewhat to lift that oppressive feeling that comes with being told you may soon have to decide if your pet has to be put to sleep or not. The day was cool but sunny and had almost a touch of spring to it, the canal glistening with a light scattering of sheet ice in the more open sections, but with plenty of clearer areas to run a lure through. This waterway is absolutely bursting with character, heavily forested sections with marginal mangroves, tank traps complimented by the remnants of old bridges, most spots have a feature or two that make an angler say to himself  "just one more cast".

One such spot had a lovely looking tree trunk and tangled roots, the perfect looking skulking area for a perch or two, alas nine casts later and my lure was lost forever. Now I am never happy losing fishing tackle, but losing lures is something I really hate and it was with some chagrin that I replaced the lost one, I also feel Berkley could perhaps be a little less stingy and include more weighted jig heads in the pack.

carrying on downstream my mind set on an area where the towpath narrows before widening into a woody opening, the lure making a calming splosh as it repeatedly entered the water. I was giving each spot about 15 casts before moving on, further downstream I met another lure angler who was seeking the same quarry, we chatted briefly, leaving me with whispers of perch, I made my way further afield, trying each and every bit of the canal, in hope that I might get the odd perch that I was dearly searching for.

I will say this now, I have never seen time fly by so fast as when lure fishing, before I knew it the time was 2pm and by now I had managed no follows and a new personal best in the shape of an enviroment agency crayfish trap, replete with perhaps ten or twelve of the critters, one of which looked like it was doing a fairly good job at imitating a lobster for size and attitude.

I decided to have a rest every so often, eventually stopping to have a snack before slowly luring my way back to the car. Although I did briefly switch to a mepps style spinner, the majority of the trip was spent using the pulse minnows.

Cast, twitch, vary retrieve and so it went, by 3pm the battery on my headcam had packed in and I had covered quite a few areas when I spotted a lot of bubbles going from one side of the canal to the other and to all intents and purposes it looked like something had been on the chase, looking along the opposite bank, I made out the shape of a perch of perhaps 1lb, moving briskly upstream, I decided to chance my luck and see if I might tempt a follow or more, ten casts later I convinced myself that it was not going to be happening and that it was time to head home, like a lot of waterways this place does seem to sometimes switch on  later in the day, so I was not suprised to see a tench that looked all of 6lb swim past me, even in the slightly coloured water and fading light you could see its dark olive back and creamy orange belly, yet more food for thought! Never enough time..

It had been an enjoyable blank and I don't say that for the sake of having not caught, I don't do to much lure fishing  and this had been a thoroughly enjoyable trip. My only worry is that I should imagine purchasing lures could if  I'm not careful become be a bit too addictive.

Tank Traps & Pillbox Sergeants Vlog

Tank Traps & Pillbox Sergeants

It was nice to see the weather forecast had changed to a much more settled outlook, a chance for the rivers to calm somewhat and water table to return to something akin to normality. My thoughts however were elsewhere, thinking about why I have never done a great deal of canal fishing, over the recent weeks I have been looking forward to making amends to this.

When I finally managed to get out on the canal, the place was simply beautiful, as I made my way along the towpath, remnants of times past appeared, tank traps dotted here and there, along with the occasional pillbox.

My plan of action consisted primarily of a quivertip rod, lobworms, maggots and a good helping of  hope that I might come across a Perch or two. The day before I had taken time to reorganize all the tackle I felt would be unnecessary, leaving me with everything fitting into a small canvas rucksack, I was hoping to move around a bit and see if I could actively drop on to the fish, although I must admit that thoughts of perhaps moving off the fish when using this approach did plague my mind.

The first spot I settled on was a bit of a bottleneck, the canal narrowing before widening slightly either end, I quite liked the look of this area and had planned on fishing it for only an hour before moving on.

Not long after having set up I could hear the swish and splash of paddles, a canoeist was slowly but steadily making his way to me, formal greetings were made and fishing finally recommenced, however the spot remained rather quiet, save for some sporadic half hearted plucks. In all fairness I still feel this is a good area, but I ended up staying here much longer than I had expected, three hours too long in fairness, the reason for this was because I was still stuck in two minds, part of me feeling I should perhaps stay put until daylight began to fade, the other wishing to stick to the original plan and move further downstream, thankfully the latter won.


Further downstream the canal widened into a sweeping bend, the far bank bare and without any real marginal coverage, every so often the calm of the watery surface was broken, small fish giving themselves away as they flitted about, the perfect place for a predator or two to lurk about shadowing the shoal.

Deciding to start out on maggots, the first cast resulted in a small Roach, one of its flanks showing signs of an old predatory bite, it certainly would have made for a perfect livebait. I decided to spray the area with a more generous helping of maggots and revert back to lobworm, in hope that more silverfish would home in on these and the Perch would then follow in on the silvers.

As daylight began to fade, a Barn owl flew right down the middle of the canal, it was a breathtaking sight to behold, but I don't know what it is, I seem to never have the camera at hand for these birds, or as in this case the daylight simply was not good enough to get a good picture, they remain a bit of an achilles heel for me.

A few minutes later the quivertip thumped round, I struck and was met by a firm, reassuring tug and then nothing, angler and prize were parted, the hook slipping. I felt absolutely positive that I had just lost a Perch and began going through the motions of mentally kicking myself. Another couple of lobs were placed on the hook, but deep down I felt I had really made a hash of it and blown my one and only chance, surprisingly though and not long after, the quiver plucked twice, before arching round, I struck, thud thud came the reassuring reply.

I played this fish tentatively, applying only a light amount of pressure, eventually the tell tale tiger stripes and dorsal broke the water, peering into the net I smiled broadly, it looked like a very nicely conditioned fish and a possible pb.

Opening my rucksack, I began to rummage about for my scales, the rummaging continued, no they weren't there, in all the chopping and changing to save weight I had accidentally left them at home.
"You bloody idiot!" I muttered to myself.

A phone call later and with many thanks to one fantastic woman, I soon had a set of scales, as well as a new pb Perch of 1lb 9oz.

I went home a very happy chap, thoughts of other sergeants that might patrol this tank trapped waterway filled my head and I cannot wait to return.