“Few fish test our swearing vocabulary quite like the roach”
IN AN age when anglers get mocked for catching smaller fish, there are some fantastic opportunities for the allrounder. It’s sad to think that many of us now openly scorn fish that don’t hit double figures, but this leaves a lot of scope for those with a healthier sense of perspective.
With short-distance trips the norm lately, I’ve been trying one or two carp waters with silverfish potential. The funny looks you get are a small price to pay for some excellent sport.
On the face of it, you might wonder why a fish that doesn’t even average half-a-pound is worth the bother. Almost four decades of roach fishing tell their own story! At just three years old, a redfin was my first-ever catch on the River Thames and yet, tellingly, I’d by no means call myself a brilliant roach angler even today. So what draws us back time and again? Well, few fish test the angler’s reflexes or swearing vocabulary quite like the humble roach. The pursuit of them is endlessly varied.
The specimen carp lake at Devon’s Goodiford Mill Fishery is perhaps the last place I’d have tried for silvers a few years back. But like so many of these waters, it has a good head of roach of all sizes, with only the very occasional angler to pester them. This instantly means two things – no silly fighting over pegs, and virtually every fish in fantastic condition!
My visit, however, was a reminder of the fun and frustration that always goes with roach. First up, my initial peg choice was woeful! I just couldn’t get a touch on bread and had found no maggots to use as a Plan B.
Most odd, but I was soon in business by moving to a deeper corner of the lake with a mild breeze pushing in.
With pole fishing banned, my waggler skills needed a thorough dusting off. Steady feeding with liquidised bread soon had them going, but I’d forgotten just how fickle and lightning-fast these fish can be. At times I was striking thin air four or five times for every hooked fish.
By degrees, though, I got my act together. Besides full focus, roach fishing is a game of constant tinkering. A switch to a finer float, with just a fraction of blacked-out tip showing, made a huge difference. Even then, it was only by changing to a slower-falling shotting pattern and experimenting with depths that the fish came back.
While I never landed a big one, a final flurry of lightning-fast bites made it hard to call time on my all-too-brief session.
Moreover, these fish certainly blew some of the cobwebs off my float fishing skills, which should put me in good stead once club matches resume. Long live the roach!
“Is a fish that doesn’t even average half-a-pound worth the bother?”