After three small perch and a lively, snappy jack, all caught in just an hour and a half on the canal I should be a happy man. The weather was benign, choosing to rain (accompanied by a couple of claps of thunder) only after I was safely ensconced in the car and driving home and the fishing had been fun. However, my feelings are somewhat rueful and mixed, and although I photographed the pike its picture won't appear along with the text.
I've been fishing this stretch of canal for perch for the last three years, and in that time have caught only one pike (and lost another), while catching countless perch, which have all been plucky and game, but very small. As one of the things I most enjoy about spinning is the mobility and lack of equipment and accoutrements I've never bothered taking an unhooking mat with me as, I do for the rest of my fishing. The perch are simply unhooked while being held, and the pike ..... well, I'm not expecting to catch any, although- of course- I always use a wire trace and bring forceps, a Baker "Hook Out" that I got from Harris Angling (in the days when they had a proper catalogue and were still run by Dave and Sue Harris), pliers and a pair of wire cutters "just in case."
For some reason, this time, as well as my usual small box of spinners I also brought along the box of pike lures pictured above, with no expectation of using them.
I targeted bridges (my usual ploy), and at the first bridge caught three perch and had several follows and plucks that didn't materialise into landed fish. The second bridge also produced follows and abortive attacks of the spinner, but no further perch.
Finally I arrived at my favourite bridge, and as I lifted the small spinner out of the water there was a tremendous swirl and splash at my feet which could only mean one thing. With esox clearly in the swim, I edged further down the bank in order to be able to draw the lure past the pike, and changed to a larger spinner. My first retrieve with the new spinner resulted in the pike grabbing it, the rod tip bent over, and I saw the pike, momentarily felt it pull, and then the spinner was thrown into the air. I doubted whether he'd fall for the same lure, so changed to a small rattling, vibrating plug, and on its second retrieve the water erupted, and I was treated to a brief tail walking display before netting a pike of a couple of pounds.
I unhooked the pike, but managed to get the hooks, now free of the pike, entangled in the folds of the net, and so decided to briefly photograph the pike on the bank. I laid the fish on some grass, took a picture on my phone and then returned him to his watery home.
It was only when I looked at the photo, having returned the fish, that I realised that the spot I'd quickly laid him on wasn't nearly as grassy as I'd thought, and although the pike was only laying there for seconds I regretted my decision not to bring the mat, and have consequently made a resolution always to bring it in future. Lugging it around is an inconvenience, but I'd rather compromise on my economy of luggage than the comfort of a fish. Although the fish was unscathed and looked perfectly happy (in typical sulky "post capture" pike style) I've decided not to publish the photo, as it doesn't set a good example, and I'm long in the tooth enough to know better.
I guess, the learning point is to "expect the unexpected", and the pike lures, as well as the unhooking mat, will become a feature of all future trips.
No comments:
Post a Comment