Cracking the Canal Code – Closed Season Redemption

My nemesis is, without a doubt, the closed season and Perch fishing on canals. It’s the time of year when everything changes. We can no longer fish the river or our usual perch haunts, so as always I head off to the canals in search of quality perch fishing.

Most of the time this involves driving much further than I ever want to for a day’s fishing, but needs must, right? Once there, I’d yomp up and down the towpath with little idea where to begin beyond the obvious features – locks, boats, walls and all the places we’re told should hold fish. More often than not, this ends with either a blank or a few half-respectable perch that barely justify the effort and wasted diesel. A bad day’s fishing is better than a good day at work, or so they say. But is a 100+ mile blank really better than a day at home?

The 2026 closed season was, I assumed, going to be much like all the others. Lots of effort, very little reward. But I have an addiction to perch fishing that needs satisfying, so despite all the moaning above, I pushed on.

Chasing a Dream

Lately I’ve been fishing with a friend (Dave) I grew up with. It only took him a decade of me suggesting us going fishing for him to give in, but eventually he bought a rod and hasn’t looked back. Like most new keen anglers, he’s absolutely gagging for a 4lb perch – but yet still had a fishing apprenticeship to serve and although with me he’d learn faster I’d still ensure he learned the proper way. 

My goal was always to teach him the ins and outs of the sport. Technique, watercraft, fish safety and behaviour, but most importantly how to enjoy it without getting too wrapped up in the “fishing world”. 

This year we’ve explored new canals, old and new sections of previously visited canals and put more miles on the car than is probably advisable. But what can you do when you live in the Fens? The nearest canal is over 40 miles away, so every trip is a journey. To make the most of it we’d fish almost anywhere within a two-hour radius. That opened up a lot of waterways and gave us plenty of options.

We started where we left off last closed season. Full of confidence, we parked the car and headed straight for the areas that had produced before. Did they? Nope. Not even a sniff.

That theme continued throughout the day and across many weekends. Getting my arse kicked has always been a common feature of my canal fishing and this season looked no different. Eventually, after exploring some of England’s finest canals that featured – and this is genuinely not a joke – discarded shitty pants, a floating dead Jack Russell and miles upon miles of seemingly fishless water, we stumbled across a canal that showed promise.

Finally Seeing Fish

I’d been looking at this canal for some time, so we eventually decided to give it a proper go. Like always, we still struggled. The difference this time was that we actually saw fish. Very good fish.

That changed everything. We knew they were there. The challenge now was working out when and how to catch them.

The next trip we had a plan. Head straight to the area where we’d seen the fish and stay until we caught them. With the car parked and rods in hand, we made our way straight to the spot. The fish weren’t as easy to see this time, but we carried on regardless.

After spending most of the morning catching smaller fish, we still couldn’t relocate the better perch. While standing watching Dave fish and offering the occasional bit of advice, I noticed something. The fish weren’t coming from walls or locks. They were coming from an underwater structure. More specifically, weed beds that held baitfish.

Every decent fish seemed to be coming from the same type of area. A pattern was emerging.

Cracking the Code

Armed with this information, I moved further down the canal and only stopped at swims where I could see weed growth and signs of baitfish. Not every structure held perch, but enough of them did to convince me we were onto something.

By now I was probably a quarter of a mile away from Dave when I dropped a lure alongside a weed bed extending out into the canal. It looked perfect. As soon as the lead touched down, a huge perch surged out of the weed. Shit. We’re on. Then nothing.

The fish simply sat there staring at the lure. My immediate response was to do more. More twitches. More movement. More everything. The perch wasn’t interested. Second cast,the lure landed close to the fish again. It turned and stared, then another perch arrived – that changed things.

The bigger fish suddenly had competition and beat the smaller (although still very respectable) perch to the lure. The water was clear enough to watch the entire thing happen. The fish engulfed the lure, I counted to two and struck. The response was instant.

The perch powered off up the canal like a steam train and suddenly I was bent into a proper fish. Dave was far too far away to hear me shouting, so I played and landed the fish before giving him a call.

When he arrived he was absolutely buzzing. The sight of a genuinely big perch does something to anglers that never leaves them. This one measured just over 40cm. After the photos and measurements we slipped the fish back and had a chat.

“These fish are all coming from the same setup,” I said. “Underwater cover with baitfish nearby. We need to stop wasting time and only fish those areas.”

The Final Cast – Perch fishing on canals

For the next half hour things went quiet apart from a few smaller fish. Typical. Just when you think you’ve cracked it, perch remind you that you haven’t.

With rain forecast and a good day already behind us, we started making our way back towards the car. Then came the final cast.

Well… the final, final, final cast.

I dropped the rig alongside a fallen tree that offered just enough cover for a perch to tuck itself away. The lure settled and six big perch appeared from nowhere. Jesus. Not only did we have some quality fish in front of us, but more importantly we had competition.

I shouted down to Dave and told him to get over here. The first fish was on almost immediately. As I played it, Dave did what any good mate would do and started reaching for the net. “Fuck that,” I said. “Get your line in.” He cast straight into the remaining fish while I steered mine away. Seconds later he was in too.

Now we both had fish on. Both landed. Both grinning. Surely they’d spooked now? Apparently not. One or two fish remained and they just kept coming. By the time the madness ended we’d landed five of the six fish.

One remained. I was fishing a FiTU weighted dropshot rig and reckoned the weight was putting this final fish off. So I bit off the tag end and fished the lure weightless. The bait fluttered slowly through the water. A few gentle lifts. The perch followed.

Then I stopped doing anything. The movement of the water was enough. The fish rose up. Opened its mouth. Game over.

We landed the final fish of the group. After so many failed trips, so many canals that seemed devoid of life and so many miles driven in hope rather than expectation, we’d finally hit the mother lode. The net was full of fish over 30cm, with a couple nudging or exceeding 40cm.

We just stood there looking at each other. “This is the place,” I said. “I think we’ve found our closed season spot.”

Why It Matters

When I post pictures of fish online, all people see is a big perch. What they don’t see is the time, effort and frustration that goes into finding them.

Nobody gives up information easily and I completely understand why. You have to earn it. That means driving around, exploring, blanking, questioning yourself and continuing when common sense says stay at home. It’s hard work. Most of the time it’s completely thankless.

But when you finally stumble across something special, it’s epic. Not just because you’ve found the fish. You put the effort in. You drove the miles. You got out of bed every weekend when it would’ve been easier not to.

You earned the reward.

One More Trip – Perch fishing on canals

A week later we returned, hoping to repeat the magic. Naturally, the fish had other ideas.

The exact spots that produced previously were now empty and the morning was tough once again. Eventually we moved further up the canal.

Dave was first to locate another good perch and, honestly, I was proud. Watching someone go from not knowing how to tie a leader to locating and catching quality perch on their own is brilliant to see.

He added a few more fish and I couldn’t help but think: “I’ve taught this guy too much.”

Later in the session we found another group of decent fish and managed a few more good perch between us, the biggest weighing 2lb 8oz.

And that was pretty much that. After years of canal arse-kickings, countless blanks and endless miles of towpaths, we’d finally put together a couple of genuinely memorable sessions.

Maybe we’ve finally found the closed season venue we’ve been searching for all these years. I guess we’ll find out next year. For now though – the rivers have opened today and we have lots of work to do!