BEWARE THE SAVAGE JAW

 

     Considering that Pete and I never fished for anything but predators for over 10 years, it surprises me that I can seldom work up the enthusiasm to seek them out these days, and yet.... somewhere, bubbling away deep inside, there must be some latent urge because it occasionally wells back up to the surface and I find myself scratching around for wire and bulky floats.

 
     A year ago, my brother came over from Suffolk and we had a day on Napton soaking some Smelt. I wasn't expecting anything to be honest, but Colin wanted to attempt an assault on his rather lowly PB so we went. Surprisingly we had three or four runs and although he never landed anything he was keen to try again and so I got the rods all set up and ready for another go. Then he did something silly; he got a job and the trip was cancelled. The rods were still standing accusingly in the corner though and, rather sluggishly at first, the glow became a flicker, then a flame and so it was that today I decided to give the Avon a go for Pike.

 
     There is a very obvious swim on our stretch that just had to hide a fish or two so dawn found me stumbling across the meadow in the half light. The wind, having just spun a hundred and eighty degrees to blow from the north, was bitterly cold and the film in my head of the lone angler roving the stretch dropping a bait in any likely hole was quickly abandoned. My minimal tackle grew by a holdall and a brolly, while any ideas I'd had of keeping on the move was ditched in favour of the big slack and a few hours tucked under a low brolly. It was a smart move. Although the river looked just right for the float and some casters, the wind and weather were not. Ten minutes without a run and I usually begin to feel that I should be fishing for something else; not today.

     I had two rods out, one on half a Pilchard and the other half a small Roach. I had planned to fish sea baits on both rods but Zander are caught within 5 miles upstream of this stretch and obviously there are plenty lower down the river so I fail to see why one or two shouldn't be there. The Pike here seem to like grabbing any roach I hook while bottom fishing so I was hardly reducing my chances and, well you never know. Truth be told I'd rather catch a Zander anyway.

     I told you that my patience begins to evaporate after 10 minutes and I was not lying. I nipped a few yards downstream just to see if there was another spot worthy of attention, just in case; you know. I was gone a couple of minutes and when I got back the float guarding the Roach had gone awol. As I stooped to pick up the rod, the tip nodded so, keeping the rod low I wound into the fish. It fell off pretty quickly adding yet more doubt to my opinion of circle hooks but at least there was life down there and pike are not shy about coming back even after they've been lost.

 
     Blow me down, just as I was cursing my luck and looking for another bait, the Pilchard was away. Cue a repeat performance and time to re-appraise my circle hook methodology. Leave it longer maybe? When the Roach went again half an hour later I had a plan in place. I would leave it a bit longer, establish which direction the fish was swimming in and, keeping the rod low, strive to apply hooking pressure in the opposite direction by winding harder into the fish. It worked and not only did I have a 7-6 Pike on the bank, it was hooked so neatly in the scissors that I took the hook out with my fingers; no forceps required. If that is the result of using circle hooks, I am happy. I've always felt that pike are the most fragile fish (after Bleak) that we fish for so anything that makes dealing with them easier is good news.

 
     Ten minutes later, as before, the Pilchard was taken and another fine pike was on the mat; 8lbs exactly this time and once more hooked perfectly and no forceps required. At this stage I realised how exciting pike fishing can be, even with deadbaits. Watching that totally inanimate float come to life has a visceral excitement to it. I'm always reminded of the scene from jaws when the shark takes the guys Sunday joint and the barrel bobs under a couple of times before slowly accelerating away and disappearing. They got that dead right.

 
     Excited as I was by then it only took another biteless hour to convince me that no more takes would be coming my way and I was right. I did try one or two more likely spots to no avail but left simultaneously despondent and enthused to try again. I am going to move my deadbaiting attention to the canals as soon as I get a chance, particularly in search of Zander. We never caught many Pike whilst lure fishing them probably because of the dirty water but I remember being struck by some electro-fishing results on the Ashby canal a few years back. It's a water where I'd only ever seen one small jack caught yet they stunned seven twenties one of which went thirty pounds in 10 miles of canal. I have a new excuse to assemble extra gear now; a new project.