It’s ugly, slimy and has fighting qualities comparable to a wet paper bag

I don’t know anyone who really rates the common bream very highly, save the occasional matchman who sees it as a heavyweight lump-fish to plump up his match weights. It’s ugly, slimy and has fighting qualities comparable to a wet paper bag. (BTW: before anyone knocks at my door, we are still talking about the fish and not the matchman here!) Big bream, doubles, are a bit of an exception as these are very rarely seen or caught, especially by design. Just about every big bream capture I know of was caught by someone who was carp angling at the time. So, when Dr Paul Garner called me and told me that he knew a pit where he could virtually guarantee a double figure bream, my interest in the species came to the forefront for the first time ever. We fixed a date in the diary a couple of weeks prior and I admit to looking forward to the session. The social aspect of fishing with PG again was the main reason for my eagerness as even a ten pound bream don’t really turn me on, though I confess that I was also thinking it would be nice to add another new Personal Best to my list.The last time Paul and I fished together was a couple of years ago when we were chasing big catfish on the Spanish Ebro. Paul was worth his weight in gold at that time as a bait catcher extrordinaire. This guy can catch a fish in a bucket of dirty water so I studied him carefully, learning something every day just from watching him in action. The latest bream trip too also proved to be educational.Paul’s method for the bream is ‘the method’ and I, naturally enough, had him show me how he does it. An inline method feeder is coupled to a short 6lb fluorocarbon hooklink. The groundbait of crumb, troutpellet and hemp is kneaded to a stiff consistency and moulded around the feeder. The hook is pushed into the groundbait leaving the hookbait of two mini-boilies standing proud. When ‘the method’ first became popular several years ago it took most fisheries apart but for some reason I have rarely used it. Our session was only 12 hours long and for most of that time the bream didn’t show up – but the myriad of carp made up for their absence! It seemed strange to be moaning about catching carp whilst we were bream fishing; a complete reversal to the normal complaints that we knew were going on at so many other fisheries around the country. The buzzer would sound, the bobbin would lift. The noise would then stop for a moment as the bobbin jammed against the buzzer before screaming off again to the accompaniment of the baitrunner. The rod would then be lifted, it forming into a tight arc as a fish hooked itself. An expectant eyebrow would lift.”Bream?””Nah. Another ruddy goldfish”. Weird.Not until literally the eleventh hour did the bream finally show. Then we had three hook-ups. One hook pulled out, another was a target slab of 10lb 10ozs for Paul and the last was, finally, a bream for me. A small one. Huh. We unhooked it in the margins and let it swim off without removing it from the water. Paul said it was the smallest he had ever seen from the lake. I believe him. It’s the story of my life lately.

Which reminds me Did I tell you about my recent trip to Spain yet? Okay, I went to the Ebro