GETTING IN A PICKEREL

 
     I don't do a lot of predator fishing these days. Sometimes when I'm trotting the Warwickshire Avon for dace and roach, I'll chuck in a lure rod and two or three shads as the jacks can be a real pain. Occasionally they can even save a poor day but I haven't soaked a deadbait for years so when Colin rang to say he fancied a crack at a decent pike though I have to admit I thought it would make a nice change.

     Having watched a few videos I fancied giving single circle hooks a try. Unhooking pike has always been a chore. Not so bad with jigs because there is only a single hook to deal with but I've always felt that trebles are an unnecessarily dangerous piece of kit. I watch a few American catfishing videos as well and their single circle hook rigs seem to work well with no deeply hooked fish, so I hatched a plan.
We'd have a hopeful day at the reservoir laying on with smelt and mackerel and on the second, we'd go to one of my favourite spots on a nearby canal where zander and pike were almost guaranteed to make up for the probable blank of the day before.

 
     Not being convinced that pike move around as much as fish like tench and carp, I always felt it important to take the bait to them so we chose the most unpopular bank on the lake, leapfrogging our baits from one end to the other and back again. Imagine our surprise when one of my rods was away within the hour. Unfortunately I didn't give it long enough and felt the fish only briefly as I wound down to it. An hour or so later, the same rod was away again and this time I got it right, quickly landing a pike of five and a half pounds. The hook was perfectly set in the scissors only requiring a simple rotation to remove it easily. Not only was it a beautiful fish, clean and unmarked, it was my first ever on a smelt.

 
     By now the crayfish were up to speed and were getting through the baits like a dose of salts. Nevertheless, I had another run further up the bank near the outfall. I passed the rod to Colin who wound into the fish. Unfortunately while he was waiting for me to struggle down the rocks with the net, the fish dived and chafed through the nylon over some submerged brickwork. Losing fish like that is always soul destroying but hopefully the barbless hook will fall out easily enough. Apart from crayfish runs little else happened of note but tomorrow would be easier, we were sure of it.

 
     In fact, Friday was a gloomier day but we were still very hopeful, excessively so as it turned out. When Pete and I used to fish here, we never ever saw any signs of other anglers. When we arrived this time, the banks were paddled flat and there was rubbish lying about. My optimistic outlook evaporated like a foggy morning when the sun comes up and we never had a flicker of interest. Something I took for granted after the first biteless half an hour such was the ease with which we used to catch here. Our second day finished without even the faintest sign of a fish. In fact we spent the last hour watching the actions of hapless boaters trying to turn their boats round in the marina entrance before we sought solace in the pub.

 
     It would have been easy to dismiss those two days as a bit of a failure but it was really nice to catch up with and fish with my brother again, something we haven't done enough of. Tactically I learned a lot about using circle hooks and just how little gear one needs to fish a couple of deadbait rods effectively. As usual however I have done so with no chance to get back here before the club's pike season ends. I never seem to learn.