specialist angler and FISHINGmagic contributor Gary Knowles had every intention of fishing his favourite venue, the river Ribble, but heavy rain and high levels forced him to abandon that plan and join his brother for a day perch fishing on the upper Great Ouse. It turned out to be one of the best decisions Gary has ever made for it led to the capture of one of the biggest perch ever recorded by a north west angler. Let Gary take up the full story.
It was early February and once again the North West of England was experiencing heavy rain. The nearest river with any potential (The Ribble) had been unfishable for a couple of weeks. As usual when you live in this part of the country this posed a real problem, the fishing in this part of the world isn’t the best anyway and inclement weather just makes finding a suitable location for a day’s fishing almost impossible.
As luck would have it my brother Dave had managed to get a rare weekend off work and would be joining Steve and myself for a day’s fishing. Also, Dave had spent the last few weeks fishing and exploring the Upper Great Ouse in an attempt to capture one of the outsize perch that inhabit this area of the river. As the forecast was for mild but dry weather in the South of England we opted to make the 300 mile round trip from our home in Warrington to fish the Ouse and as I had never actually fished there before I was quite looking forward to the day ahead.
Dave had found the perch fishing to be quite hard but the rewards were undoubtedly there for those prepared to put in the time and effort. After around eight trips Dave had blanked on seven of these but on the other one had managed eight perch with the best four going 2-02, 2-08, 2-12 and 2-14. Which, in my opinion is excellent fishing by any standards.
My personal best was a ‘mere’ 2-12 a good fish by local standards and one that I would love to better. I had spent a good few weeks earlier on in the season fishing for perch on local lakes and had caught good numbers of fish in the 1-08 -1-14 range but hadn’t managed to get one that would nudge over the 2lb mark.
As most of my recent fishing involved either overnighters or evening sessions my body was not accustomed to an alarm clock going off at 3.30am and it took a great effort to drag myself out of bed. Fortunately I had had the foresight to prepare my tackle the evening before so a quick brew and pulling on of a couple of layers of clothes was all that was required to have me ready for the off. By 4.30am we were on the road with Steve and I trying to extract as much information as possible out of Dave regarding the venues we would be fishing. Its no secret that big perch are making the news at the moment and a flick through either of the weeklies would confirm that most of these fish were indeed being caught from the area of the Great Ouse we were heading for. With this in mind the two and a quarter hour journey passed swiftly as we discussed what our chances were of success. Dave after coming close with a 2-14 was hoping for a ‘three’ whereas Steve would be happy to catch anything over 2lb. I made no secret that for some while I had been after a fish that would better my PB; hence anything over 2-12 would send me home more than happy. As it happened ‘happy’ would be somewhat of an understatement for the mood I would be going home in.
It was around 7.00am when we arrived at our chosen location and the sun was just rising over the horizon, revealing an overcast day. Although the day was quite mild a bone chilling north easterly was blowing in our faces as we got our first sight of the river. Although I had read many articles and reports on the Ouse I was still taken aback to see the river. It was so different from the spate rivers I am used to fishing and resembled in many ways a drain. There was very little bankside cover with each bank lined with dead and decaying reeds. It appeared that apart from the few overhanging trees present the main feature would be the near and far side margin. There were no steep banks present and as such I reasoned that great care would have to be taken to prevent my silhouette from ‘skylining’ my chosen swim.
I eventually settled on a swim on the inside of a bend where a barely discernible crease was formed some 15 yards downstream of me. I tackled up some way back from the swim, deciding to fish with a two rod set up. One with a light bobbin on a free running rig which would be cast down and across to fish against the far bank and a light quivertip set up with a light running paternoster which would be fished against the near bank and held at all times. The ‘bobbin’ rod was rested on a bite alarm and the bobbin set for a long (2ft) drop to enable me to concentrate fully on the quivertip rod. I started by putting four or five small droppers of chopped lobworm and red maggots in each swim before casting each bait out. Around half an hour had passed before a single bleep focused my attention on the bobbin rod. Within a minute the indicator climbed steadily to the but ring and a sweeping strike resulted in……..nothing. Its always annoying to miss a bite but when you expect only to get one or two chances to miss a good take like that usually causes the air to turn slightly blue. Out went a pouchfull of chopped lobworm quickly followed by a fresh bait. Soon after this the quivertip pulled round steadily and another strike met with the same response. Even as I struck I knew I had made a mistake, with a big bait like a lobworm I should have paid out a little line before striking, but sometimes the old reflexes get the better of me.
It was a good couple of hours before my next chance, by this time my bobbin rod was rapidly becoming a hindrance as the rivers resident signal crayfish has discovered my baited swim. The bobbin would creep slowly one inch at a time towards the butt ring as the irritating little crustacean chomped its way through another juicy lob.
I was just considering reeling this rod in when a quick tap on the quiver brought my attention back to the job in hand. I moved the rod towards the fish letting it take up the slack line, as the line tightened I again moved the rod allowing a good couple of feet to be taken before striking. A spirited but one-sided struggle soon had my first Great Ouse perch on the bank, a fat little specimen of 1lb-05oz. Experience has taught me that perch seldom travel alone so he was slipped back a little way upstream and the bait quickly repositioned. Within minutes a similar bite found me attached to what was obviously a much better fish. I grabbed my other rod and threw it behind me clearing the way to land this one without any hindrance. For a while he stayed deep before moving out into mid-river but gentle sustained pressure soon had him in front of me. The excitement was quickly extinguished when a jack pike of around 4-5lb rolled in front of me and the unwanted culprit was quickly ushered into the net.
I was later to miss another bite on the quivertip rod but this was pretty much the end of my action for the morning.
Steve had settled into a swim some 100 yards downstream of me fishing under a superb looking raft which was probably the most obvious feature on the length but had just a single 3oz specimen for his troubles. Dave, who was a further couple of hundred yards downstream, had fared better than the rest of us. Apart from taking a chub of around 2lb he had just landed a cracking looking perch of 2lb-07oz. This was a really pristine looking fish and one which, I have to say, I would have loved to have graced my net. We took a couple of quick photographs then decided that a move was in order. I was keen to have a look at a couple of other stretches that Dave had discovered and had described so graphically. So back at the car over a brew and some sandwiches we discussed our options.
After looking at two other areas of the river we decided to fish a very narrow tributary of the river that although lacking in width, more than made up for in character. This particular length had some sweeping bends and plenty of overhanging and fallen trees for cover. All three of use chose swims that contained such features but as it turned out I had made a mistake. I elected to fish behind a large fallen tree in an area of slack water, with Dave and Ste both picking overhanging vegetation that the current could pull their respective baits under.
I baited up again with chopped lob and red maggot and from my first put in the mistake was obvious. A constant tweaking of the quiver revealed a huge amount of crayfish activity and any bait positioned in the vicinity of the baited area was instantly decimated. Apart from the fact that they were eating my bait faster than it could go in I reasoned that if there were any big perch about the crayfish would have made themselves scarce. So another move seemed the only option.
Time was now getting on, and with just three hours of daylight left my next swim would probably have to be my final one. Resisting the temptation to go back onto the main river I decided to stick with the tributary, not least of all because I had seen quite a lot of fry in the margins. Surely some of the big boys will have moved up the side streams to gorge on this plentiful supply. After looking at several swims I finally chose one that I was happy with. The swim was on an outside bend and both banks, like the main river where lined with decaying rushes. About halfway along was a small rebate in the reeds, just a foot or so deep but maybe just enough to provide an ambush point. As there were no obvious features within some distance of this swim I hoped that the edge of the reeds would be a patrolling route for the perch as it edged its way along the margin, perfectly camouflaged by its striped flanks.
As the reeds in this swim protruded some way into the water I decided that the best presentation would be achieved by using a quivertip. The rod I had chose was a soft ‘Avon’ style with spliced in quiver. Previous experience with perch had taught me that a good hook hold was not always achieved so I wanted a set up capable of absorbing any sudden lunges under the rod tip. Main line was 6lb bs with a hooklink of 6lb ‘Double Strength’ attached via a swivel. I used a light running paternoster which would enable me to pay out line to a taking fish, which I have found is vital with perch as they seem to drop a bait as soon as any resistance is felt. As I was fishing within inches of the near margin just 1/8th oz of lead was all that was required to hold bottom and a size six hook completed the set-up.
Lowering the rig over the edge of the reeds revealed the depth to be around three and a half feet, so I didn’t really feel the need to introduce bait via a dropper. I simply chopped around a dozen lobworms into a small tub then added a few red maggots. I then crept downstream keeping low to the bank and deposited by hand the free offerings. A large lobworm was then attached to the hook and then gently lowered into the swim in the same manner, with line being paid out as I edged back to my chair some 12-15 yards upstream of the baited area. Despite not getting any indications of activity other than the gentle tightening of the line caused by the signal crayfish, I repeated this process every fifteen minutes or so, assuming the crayfish were eating or at least removing bait from my swim. If a good fish did move past I intended there to be a tight pocked of bait on its patrol route that hopefully would be sufficient to keep it interested in the area long enough to find my lobworm.
As I waited for action on the quiver I set up a second rod again using a bite alarm and a bobbin again set to a long drop. This I cast upstream towards a slack area behind a fallen tree, set the bobbin, and decided that this rod could look after itself whilst I concentrated all my attention on the quiver. At this stage Dave and Ste were both catching perch but certainly not of the size we were looking for. Steve had taken three up to around 14oz whilst Dave had several around the 4oz mark, he told me later he was tempted to try one of these for bait but decided to stick with lobworm.
As dusk arrived it appeared my chance may have gone. Although it was still light I had no more than half an hour or so of daylight remaining and night fishing was strictly prohibited. Suddenly my quiver gave a slight twitch and I instantly moved my rod tip towards the fish giving a good 18 inches of line. As there was very little current I was able to watch the line tighten towards my rod tip and struck before any pressure was placed on the quiver. The rod hooped over for a second or two, with the fish holding its position before hurtling downstream with such force that I was convinced I had hooked a good barbel. As it was taking quite a bit of line against the clutch, I thought the best option was to jump up and go after it (in a swim without snags I often do this as I see little point in trying to drag a fish twenty yards upstream when I can play the fish in front of me). As the fight progressed I became even more convinced it could not be a perch, all I could think I had hooked was a decent barbel or a good chub. This was obviously a heavy fish and as there were no snags in my swim I played it very gently. It broke surface for a second or two before plunging back down, just long enough for Steve, who was now by my side holding the net to say two words.
‘Big perch’.
I had also seen its huge back and now I eased off a little more, I was praying for a decent hook hold as many times I have hooked perch only for the hook to fall out in the net. Suddenly the fight was over, and it was different from anything I had previously experienced with big fish of other species. Instead of feeling a gradual tiring during the fight it just went straight from unbelievable power to total submission. It was now wallowing just out of reach of the net and I gently drew it over the drawstring, a vision I will never forget. The relief was, as ever totally overwhelming.
At this stage I did not quite realise just how big the fish was. I shouted to Dave who came running over and the three of us just stared in awe as we pulled back the mesh of the landing net to reveal the biggest perch any of us had ever seen. I have got to say that I had no idea what it would weigh, it just seemed too big to be a perch, it looked totally awesome. Dave told me later (and he had recently caught fish to just under 3lbs) that he though it would go near 5lb, I was praying for a ‘four’, Steve just kept swearing as he looked it massive bulk. Once on the scales Dave proved to be the nearest, it weighted a colossal 4lb – 10oz and was a new PB by nearly two pounds. We quickly photographed the fish as the light fell rapidly, taking around a dozen shots with two different camera’s (better safe than sorry) and then took the perch to a spot just upstream where we could release him back gently. Although he was full of energy I still held him in the margins for a few minutes watching the bony gill plates gently rising and falling as he sucked in much needed oxygen. I lifted him occasionally gazing admiringly at the flanks of the most impressive fish that I have ever had the good fortune to catch. Eventually Dave told me that sooner or later I would have to let him go and with that I released my hold and watched him slowly disappear into the coloured water.
Any angler who has at some time caught a fish of a size that he had dreamed of will know just how I felt at that moment. A huge grin was stuck permanently on my face as I packed up my gear (I didn’t have time for another cast). The feeling of elation was overwhelming and an image of the perch was burned into my mind. We walked together back to the car, Dave and Steve chatting excitedly, with me just behind them wide eyed and grinning like a maniac. As we chatted on the journey home there was certainly one thing we all agreed on. Despite all of us catching some very big fish in the past, to a man, everyone commented that nothing had ever impressed us as much as the fish we had all been privileged to witness.
So what did I do right? In my opinion, although I see myself as extremely fortunate to catch such a fish on my first visit I do not consider it to be down to luck. I decided on a slightly different approach to one that I was at first going to try. On small rivers I am used to fishing ‘feature’ swims. You know the type, rafts, overhanging tree, deep pool, etc. but on this day I decided on a different approach. I intentionally chose a swim in both the morning and afternoon away from any feature that I considered to be a holding area. Instead I chose a swim when I felt that nomadic fish would pass through. I figured that the perch would move from area to area hugging the marginal reeds using their striped camouflage to good effect. Inching their way along looking for crays and small silver fish. The plan was that any fish passing through the bend where I was positioned would choose the outside margin (being slightly deeper) and as my loose feed was positioned accurately tight to the reeds could not fail to come across it. Hopefully it would then be triggered into taking the loose offerings and would have no difficulty in finding the huge lobworm positioned in the same area. Did it work? well if I am honest I don’t know. It may not have happened like that, the perch may have been resident all along and just decided to feed on dusk, who knows?
After just one trip obviously I do not have enough information to try and establish a pattern or a technique that works better than the one I used. But what I do know is I will have a lot of fun finding out.
