Through a mutual friend (Ivan), I got talking to a couple of lads from the Cambridge area – Andy and Richard. Over a skinful of beer (well me and Ivan downed a few, Andy and Richard being Southerners were pretty pathetic on the beer drinking front) we began discussing the types of fishing we do when not chasing pike.
Down in Cambridge A few weeks later Ivan and I arrived in the small village near Cambridge that Andy and Richard call home. Ivan dumped his gear at Andy’s and I dropped mine off at Richard’s. I was bursting to get fishing but as the conditions were bright and sunny local knowledge said we had plenty of time as the zander would not be on the prowl until the an hour or so before dusk. With this in mind we all went down to the local supermarket for lunch in the cafeteria and for a few vital supplies. Vital supplies for the northerners being beer and roll-ups and for the Southerners dainty little cakes and lashings of ginger beer! At this point I must get a little serious; Andy and Richard really had done us proud and deserve thanks. Quite apart from putting a roof over the heads and food on the table of two ‘orrible blokes like me and Ivan, perhaps more importantly they were so determined that we would catch zander that they rested their favourite swims for weeks leading up to our visit. And if this wasn’t enough they even went to the trouble of catching livebaits for our trip. I’d brought along some cracking fresh roach deadbaits but nothing beats a livie – or so I thought! On the Fens at last! By mid afternoon we were in position; at last I was fishing the ‘Fens’, an ambition I had held for some time and I was absolutely bursting with excitement. Ivan and I were set up in the ‘hotspot’, with Andy and Richard positioned either side of us. I must confess I wasn’t too sure about the logic of this, everything I’d read told me that zander hunted actively, were extremely mobile predators and would cover large areas of water in their search for prey. This meant any fish moving up or down the drain would come into contact with their baits first, – were they working a flanker on me I wondered? The guys convinced me that although my assumptions were largely true the zander fed with real gusto in the ‘hotspot’ and that Ivan and I were in the prime spot for the big ones. I was fishing with three rods. The left hand rod has a small roach livebait paternostered in the margin, the middle had half a herring cast across to the far bank (the big fish rod this one!) and a 6″ ‘Welsh’ roach on the right hand rod again cast just short of the nearside margin. These were the deads I’d brought along with me after a trip to Lake Bala and despite Richard and Andy telling me how good the little livebaits and half herrings were I was surprised to find both of them raiding my freezer box before scuttling back to their rods. A quick inspection showed that my supply of Welsh roach had just been halved.
“You’ve been very unlucky there,” said Andy. “There are practically no pike on this part of the river, if that happens again I guarantee it will be your first zander.” Two livebaits, three deadbaits and seven jack pike later he reassessed the situation. “Eerr, you do sometimes get one or two though.” Andy piped up.. “Can’t beat local knowledge eh, Ivan.” I said to my comatose mate. The first zed is netted Suddenly, Andy’s rod was away and he’s on it in an instant and soon there is a large swirl just off his landing net and I’m treated to the sight of a spiny dorsal fin breaking the calm surface – an awesome sight indeed! Andy estimated the fish at 7lb and quickly returns it. “What was that on mate?” I ask. “Eerr, Welsh roach.” He says, a little sheepishly, whilst delving into my freezer box. He’s hardly got time to set the bobbin when the same rod is off again. This time a slightly larger zed is soon staring me out with those scary opaque eyes as I help with the unhooking – I want one! Another ragged Welsh roach can be seen hanging out of the corner of its mouth. Then a near double – on Welsh roach again! Next action is to Richard and I run over to help with the netting as he shouts over that it looks like it could be a good one. Once in the net we can see that it is indeed a splendid fish and talk is that we may have a double on the bank. Unfortunately the scales show otherwise and it fails to reach this by just a few ounces. “They are all right these Welsh roach, mate,” says Richard, making his way down the bank towards my rapidly emptying freezer box. Back at my swim now and I’m moaning that they have stitched me up in the middle swims, lied about the bait and drugged my mate by slipping something in his coffee. They just laugh and tell me to be patient, but I’m not, I desperately want a zander. “I want one!” I’m assured that half herring produces fewer runs but bigger fish, but I’m a zander virgin and I just want a zed. I don’t care how big it is, I just want one. So to the calls of “chicken and bottler” I wind in the herring and replace it with one of my rapidly dwindling stock of Welsh roach.
At last – And I get two! Despite two vampire marks on its flank the roach is still pretty active so following the advice of the guys I don’t put a fresh bait out but drop the same one back in position. The hope is the zander knows it’s fatally wounded the roach and will return for his snack. And return it did. Ten minutes later and I’ve struck before the bobbin has banged against the rear rest. By now it’s dark and as the fish slides sideways over the net I can clearly see the luminous eyes gazing back as my first ever zed pays me a visit. It weighed a meagre 5lb 2oz but it was a significant milestone for me. Job done, I can now relax and after casting a fresh livebait back into the margin I attempt to prise the can of lager out of Ivan’s hands to celebrate. Before I can break his fourth finger and thus release the beer from his grasp the far bank ‘Welsh’ roach absolutely screams off and it’s still going when I get to it. Soon my second zander of the night is banked and it’s my second PB as well at 6lb 6oz. Scouse zander and sleepy southerners We then have a mad half hour when bobbins are falling off everywhere and I think a couple of small zeds were taken by Andy, a jack by Ivan and several missed runs. I missed another screamer of a take on the livebait and wound back in a couple of empty hooks. “Scouse zander that mate……..” says Andy. “Eh?” say’s I being a little thick. “Waits ’till after dark, nicks your roach and f***’s off.” came the reply. His words, not mine! Like the guys predicted the activity stopped almost a quickly as it started. “We have a choice,” says Richard. “We can wait another couple of hours and they sometimes come back on again, or we can go to the pub to celebrate losing your zander virginity.” Half an hour later the first pint was downed. Two hours later the first Southerner fell asleep. Ah well – some things never change. |
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