Size isn't everything!

It's not an easy thing for a man to admit, but I'm having "size issues."

Here's the problem: I'm loving my fishing at the moment, am having ridiculous amounts of fun  regularly snatching a couple of hours perch fishing on my local canal, but I haven't caught anything over three pounds. Now, if the three pounder were a perch there'd be no issue. A three pound perch is, in anyone's estimation a "monster", and to me it would represent both a personal best and a "fish of a lifetime." However, the three pounder was a pike, which in relative terms, although fun, is no great shakes, and the perch have all weighed only a few ounces. Now, the thing is I'm not bothered in the least bit (like I said, I'm having fun, and I've caught enough large carp and pike in the past both to remember fondly and to feel that I don't need to prove anything), the real problem is the pressure of writing a blog that's read on both sides of the Atlantic. However happy I am in my pursuit of small perch, will readers want to continue looking at photo's of "schoolboy fish"?

Perhaps the answer is to make the blog all about "literary style and flourish" ..... after all, the best angling essay I've ever read was by the excellent John Gierarch and was all about making the perfect cup of coffee while fishing and camping, and Chris Yates can wax as eloquent and readable about his mystical conversations with the river as he can about actually catching.

Take this morning's session, for instance.

 

 

The canal was looking at its magnificent best when my son and I visited it for a two hour spinning and bankside breakfast session, but not only was the canal aesthetically pleasing, it was also generous with its perch, but once again they were small.

Not all as small as this plucky little fellow who had the temerity to ingest my son's size 3 silver and spotted spinner, but none of them more than a quarter of a pound.

 

 

As well as the perch that we actually caught, several others followed the various spinners and curly tails that we threw at them, and a few splashed their way off the hooks before making it to the bank. But it wasn't all about the fish: the pleasure was partly in the fish, but also in the father/son time, the beauty of the surroundings, the wildlife (we watched a grass snake swim in characteristic sinewy, head up style across the canal), the inherent pleasure of mobile lure fishing and the bankside breakfast.

 

 

 

Perhaps it's just a "perch thing." I'm a member of a 4000 strong perch fishing group on Facebook, and while there are regularly photo's of real "clonkers", venerable hump-backed giants, there are as many pictures of small perch, and a general agreement that as perch are the prettiest fish that swim in English waters that any perch is a "good" perch merely by virtue of being a perch.

 

I guess, in the final analysis, as I term myself these days a "pleasure angler", then the overriding criteria must be pleasure, and if I'm enjoying myself (which I am) there's no need to justify myself or to experience any angst about the fact that I'm catching the smallest fish I've caught for years, but having the most fun.

In any case, it's not long till July when my son and I have a couple of carp overnighters planned, so all those waiting to see a photo of a "proper fish" will- hopefully- be indulged then. Until July, the weekly trips to the canal will continue.

Next week I'll be swapping my usual lure fishing approach for a lobworms, maggots and traditionally made perch bob assault.

I'll let you know how I get on.

 

 my son enjoying a just cooked sausage bap