Improve Your Coarse Fishing (UK)
Too rudd to be true – Tom Scarr
IYCF Art Director Tom Scarr reveals why big rudd are easier to find than you might think and how they can be caught on simple tactics
IF THE prospect of catching big goldenflanked rudd from wild stretches of river doesn’t inspire you to get out on the bank, check your pulse! Long, hot summer days, the glorious British countryside and refreshingly simple tactics – what’s not to like? Many of these rudd have never seen a hook, are in fin-perfect condition and punch well above their weight. So why do people shy away from targeting this forgotten species? It’s partly down to their shy and nomadic nature, while the prospect of a long walk to remote locations before you find them isn’t universally appealing. But when I found a stretch of river with a shoal of big rudd close to home, I wasted no time setting my stall out for these golden wonders.
Hunt them down with bread
Wild rudd tend to live in quieter, more neglected areas of rivers and drains far from civilisation. However, there are also pockets of these nomadic fish within an easy walk of towns and cities. I targeted one such stretch on the River Nene, near Oundle, Northamptonshire, on the Wellingborough & District NAC ticket after spotting rudd swirling at loosefed morsels of bread crust. Crust is the best way to discover what’s there – walk the bank and loosefeed several 50p-sized pieces until one disappears. The size of the freebies, and the speed at which they disappear, gives a good indication of the size of the rudd. The sound a big rudd makes is such that you could be forgiven for thinking a
carp was the culprit! Once you’ve found your rudd, speed and accuracy are imperative – after all, these are wild fish and they will drift off if they feel the least bit pressured.
Feed little and often
Rudd swim in shoals and encouraging them to compete with one another will swing the odds in your favour. Once I’ve found the fish I feed maggots or casters. I prefer the latter, as they seem to attract the better stamp of fish and fall slightly more slowly than maggots, especially when allowed to further dry in the sun. I’ll fire out 6-8 casters until I see the tell-tale swirls typical of this species, then repeat until fish are nudging each other out of the way to get to the freebies. The other advantage of casters is that they won’t fill the rudd up as quickly as bread. Their upturned mouths are an obvious pointer to how they feed up in the water, and soon they’ll be taking baits before they have a chance to fall at all. Keep your loosefeed as tight as possible. If the casters drift too far out of the swim, the fish will follow, when ideally you want to keep them as concentrated and reachable as possible.
Delicate set-up
Once the fish are competing and rising in the water it’s time to cast out your hookbait. I alternate between bread crust and double caster, just to keep them guessing, but go easy on the bread. Bites on crust can be quick and aggressive, but rudd can switch off in a heartbeat. This is usually the signal to switch to double caster on the hook. Repeated casting can spook rudd, so I fish as delicately as possible.
“Their upturned mouths are an obvious pointer to how they feed up in the water, and soon they’ll be taking baits before they have a chance to fall at all.”
Typically, I use a preloaded 1.75g Drennan waggler, but will step up the weight if I need to cast further than 6m-7m. This is rarely necessary, as a stalking approach is best and often a simple 3m-4m cast will land right on the fish. The advantage of a preloaded waggler is that the depth can be easily changed with the use of float stops. No other shot are needed, as I want the bait to fall as naturally as possible. A soft-actioned 12ft waggler rod cushions the sudden, savage bites that these opportunistic fish will give!
On the day
Temperatures of 30ºC spell the kiss of death for getting bites from most species. Rudd, though, are still willing feeders and are simple to spot with the help of polarising glasses. This is fortunate as I managed to coincide my trip to the Oundle stretch of the River Nene with one of the hottest days of the year. Within 15 minutes of walking the stretch and catapulting in some bait I had managed to find some rudd. On my first cast with a big chunk of bread, bait and float disappeared as one and I knew I was into a decent fish. A nervy battle on my part, avoiding the blooming lilies on the near shelf, brought me my first rudd, the scales of which resembled burnished gold in the bright light. Hooking this fish spooked the swim somewhat, so I laid the rod down and reverted to confidence-building with 6-8 casters at a time. It took a little longer to catch the next fish, but they hadn’t drifted too far away and I was able to add a few more in what proved to be a ruddy marvellous session!