OPEN UP A CAN OF WORMS – OUR FLEXIBLE FRIENDS!
No fish can resist a wriggler, so never leave home without them
FISHING is frequently dismissed as ‘a worm at one end of the line and a fool at the other’.
Yet those who choose this bait are not in the least foolish. Worms aren’t only free for the gathering, they are also irresistible to pretty much every fish species.
I keep a ready supply all winter in my garage, and without them I’d feel ill-equipped. It’s easy to believe that only the latest fashionable baits will work, but worms – high in amino acids – remain effective to this day.
Quite often a poor day can be turned on its head by a juicy ‘lobbie’. Scent plays its part, but I’m sure that movement is what triggers a fish to feed – you don’t get that with a boilie!
I use three types of worm, starting with the smallest – redworms. These are deadly for both grayling and roach. I often use them as an alternative hookbait when fishing maggots, and it’s amazing how often they win me a bite.
Next comes the dendrobaena, a worm that wriggles very aggressively when placed on the hook. For this reason they are deadly on the coldest of days, constantly taunting fish to come and eat them! It’s no surprise that this movement makes them a firm favourite with perch anglers.
Finally comes the largest and arguably the best of them all – the lobworm. Anything with fins eats them, from barbel to bream, and I’d be seriously handicapped if I couldn’t use them, especially in winter.
Worms are living creatures, so you can’t conveniently place them in a bag and slam the freezer door.
Redworms and dendrobaenas are the easiest to care for, provided they are kept cool. Lobworms are far more temperamental, and need checking daily. If any look out of sorts or, worse, are dead, remove them immediately or your whole stock will go the same way.
I keep all my worms in buckets on a concrete garage floor. The lids are closed, but I punch air holes in them. Inside I use a mixture of moss and peat, occasionally dropping in a little green kitchen waste for them to break down.
To transport worms to the bank I’ll use a maggot box with shredded damp newspaper, as it’s far easier and quicker separating the worms from this than from any other medium.
ONE BAIT, TWO SPECIES
A worm is confidence on a hook, so no surprise then that on a cold winter’s day, when the river had started to clear after a frost, my friend Tim Norman and I made our way across the bare muddy fields to the river with only one bait. There was enough earth clinging to our boots to sustain a whole colony of worms, but the river was in fine fettle, cold but perfectly paced. We each flicked a lobworm under the branches of a bush overhanging the water.
A tap on the tip gave me a modestly-sized perch, but Tim’s bite was far more distinct and immediate. Such an aggressive response is common with chub. Its savage lunges tested the line but the knots were secure and the hook held firm.
The fish continued the fight at close quarters as Tim was wielding the net. It bored under the bank, trying to find a reed stem to tangle the line around, but Tim was wise to this move and steered an angry six-pounder into the mesh, an old warrior clad in bronze chain mail.
The older I get, the less patience I have, so roving the river with a quivertip rod suits me perfectly. With no more bites forthcoming we were soon on the move.
The river widened, displaying a distinct crease line and a place for debris to sink and collect. Not all snags are visible, and just downstream of my position were some submerged branches. Casting directly into them would only lead to lost tackle so I needed to draw the fish away. I replaced my swan shot link leger with a blockend feeder.
The lobworm hookbait, the star of the show, was now accompanied by a chorus line of dendrobaenas. These would wriggle and escape through the holes of the feeder, attracting the attention of my quarry. Repeating the cast every 10 minutes for an hour, I felt sure bites would come.
The glass tip didn’t pull round so much as shake, suggesting a confident fish gorging on a juicy lobworm. I didn’t delay the strike but drove home the size 6 hook into a bony top lip.
Violent headshakes told me that a big perch was the prize on offer. The sight of a huge spiky dorsal fin charging around the swim concentrated the mind wonderfully – I love all perch, but river-dwellers, with their bold stripes and vivid colours, are special. Thank heaven for worms!