Seasons, rituals and perch

I know little of farming, but I do know that it functions around seasonal cycles. Angling is no different. The sultry days of summer give way to the gold of autumn, which in turn is succeeded by winter's chill and  spring's promise, before the return of summer completes the cycle. The beginning of November sits at the cycle's intersection between autumn and winter and as cold fingers struggle to retie knots and shoulders are hunched heavenwards against the cold, summer's tench recede into fond but increasingly distant memory. 

Sociologists have long noted that humans are drawn to ritual, and November also marks the annual ritual of the Christian Anglers group's charity fundraising perch match. Now in its eighth year, it gathers together members of the group fishing to raise money for good causes, remember our late member John, and to compete for a trophy named in his memory. The match is also the group's last get-together before we resume our annual rituals with what is always the first event of the New Year, a pike fishing trip to the Fens. 

The day dawned mild, damp and overcast, classic perch conditions and the hope that propels all anglers was in evidence as the ten anglers fishing the competition gathered for bacon butties and a reminder of the rules (or rule singular, as there is only one- get another competitor to photograph and witness the weighing of any decent sized perch that might be in contention for the prize) Anglers chose their own swim, with fishing commencing at 9:00 and scheduled to finish at 3:00

I opted for a corner swim with some enticing looking cover offered by marginal reedbeds, which I hoped would prove to be a popular ambush spot for maraudering perch. After about forty minutes I connected with the first reasonable perch to fall to any of our number, and on the basis that "you never know", and following the TV show Bargain Hunt's maxim of "it could be a winning score", I subjected the fish to the scales where it registered a weight of 14 ounces.

My lead was short lived (it was always unlikely that a fish weighing less than a pound would win a match that in its previous seven years had only once been won by a fish weighing less than 2 pounds) and so I redoubled my efforts as news filtered around the lake of the capture of larger perch than my session opener. By lunchtime a fish of 1 pound 14 ounces that had fallen to John MacAngus (a fish that proved to be the eventual winner) had taken pole position and provided the benchmark for the rest of us to aspire to better.

Carp inevitably made a nuisance of themselves, mostly modestly sized commons which proved a diverting challenge on our light perch tackle. My second fish of the day was one such common, whose golden sheen seemed to appropriately match the autumnal scene in which we were fishing.

Around midday my quill float dipped once more, and I was playing a spirited fish which turned out to be my biggest perch of the day, and the third largest caught by any of our party. At 1lb 9oz the fish was by no means a giant, but was a plump and pleasing specimen and one that any angler would be pleased to catch.

As morning gave way to afternoon, the overcast conditions and heavy grey clouds made good on their threat and brollies were erected as the rain fell, at times light, at others heavy with malign intent. The fish didn't seem to mind (they were wet anyway!) and news of the odd decent perch being caught continued to filter around the bank, mostly transmitted by text message, as the rain had somewhat dampened the desire for bank walking and paying social visits to one's neighbouring anglers.

Eventually the rain passed, and I was pleased to land my third and final perch, a fish similar in size to my first. 

Throughout the day perch of  a reasonable size had fallen to our rods, with eight perch over a pound in weight being registered, all resplendant with the bold stripes and the bright red fins that are the hallmark of the species. Pleasingly, these were evenly spread among our number, with seven anglers sharing the spoils. These were augmented by plenty of smaller perch, the occasional roach, and several rogue carp.

At the prescribed finishing time of 3:00, the group gathered for the presentation, with John winning the trophy for the third time. His multiple victories should come as no surprise, he being a vice-president of The Perchfishers and one of the editors of what is widely acknowledged as the best book about fishing for the species, "The Biggest Fish of All." 

The day ended with the usual handshakes, back-slapping and farewells before we headed for the warmth and comfort of our cars and the return to our respective homes and realities. As ever, a good time had been had by all, money had been raised for a good cause (this year, a church-based charity that works with those experiencing homelessness or who are vulnerably housed) and all but the winning angler drove home wondering if next year might just be their year.