In search of perch

The Essex Scribbler had secured us a day on a secluded stillwater, in deepest Devil Dog Land on the hunch that some decent perch he had found a couple of years ago may have thrived on neglect amongst the stillwater chub and barbel.

A very welcome bacon sandwich later at Chez Scribbler and we set off on the short haul to the water. Nestled at the bottom of a short track below a solar array and bounded by a busy but hidden rail line was a lovely corner of rural Essex.

Swim choice only in part taken due to obvious cover features, but mostly by the promise of nearly all day sun the Scribbler was soon set up to catch some bait.  I can certainly recommend the predominately fengureek based curry mix used to degrease and remove the ammoniac stench of the maggots.  He favours white, I almost exclusively plump for reds.

It wasn't long before the bait snatching turned to  more serious matters, as a nice mid doubles koi tested the 3 metre whip somewhat. In truth it probably hadn't woken up  and only a hook pull at the net cost Scribbler a stunning looking prize.

I 'd set up camp to the left, covering the island in front, and fishing maggot down the side to my left . In hindsight my role as tea wallah probably hindered serious perchy business but I certainly enjoyed a stream of small roach, rudd, perch and bream/roach hybrids and a string of small carp, tamed well with the steely butt sectioned ancient Kevin Ashurst 12 footer and 3 lb straight through to an 18. I can't normally tie spade ends for toffee, even with a hook tier but not once did the knot fail.

They came in a variety of shapes, sizes and sub species..

and were generally in good shape except for this very  hollow bellied linear mirror.

Scribbler meanwhile was moving around search out the hoped for perch. For the second time he connected with a very decent  Koi, close in on maggot,but this time on running line. and again suffered a hook pull...

He did however tempt a take on dead bait, but not quite the species and size he was hoping for..

I 'd just put  the brew on for the last time when a tiny bite resulted a much more powerful fish, and almost simultaneously a take on the dead bait rod. Result? A missed take and after some time a hook pull in the margins. The other carp had never really had  anything like an upper hand. This fish though never once came any where near surfacing, and had sent up large boil of displaced water.

No target big perch or sneaked barbel but a lovely day in the soring sunshine, with that harsh, bright still low in the sky early year light picking out the still faded reeds and silver birch bark. Yaffling woodpecker and mewing buzzards.

Nice one Scribbler.