Visgids RoofvisHunter 

A Schottisch father and sun came to the Netherlands. They had only one goal: to catch as many large predatory fish as possible and create some wonderful father-son memories. They left the method up to me, so we opted for vertical jigging with dead bait. On the first day, we took the boat out onto the Hollands Diep and landed 14 zander and pike. The second day, on the Haringvliet, the current was stronger, and the action really took off—ranging from subtle, tentative nibbles to aggressive, hard-hitting strikes, we managed to catch more than 20 fish the second day. The guests had a fantastic time and headed back to Scotland feeling absolutely delighted. Mission accomplished.

The weather forecast called for force 5 winds with gusts up to force 7—hardly ideal conditions for predator fishing on large bodies of water. However, since the client had traveled a long distance to get here, we had to find a solution. We couldn’t fish my usual spots (safety first), so we had to improvise. It wasn’t easy, but we still managed to catch some fish. Vertical fishing did the trick.

The morning mist hung like a thick blanket over the water as the boat gently glided out of the harbor. The Hollands Diep lay dead calm, a massive body of water renowned for its record-breaking zander. On board stood Marvin and Jasper, two fanatic predator anglers with their sights set exclusively on this 'glass-eye' of the depths today. "Perfect conditions for zander," Thomas whispered, clipping on a slender, bright green shad. The sun was just piercing through the clouds, painting the sky a deep orange. Jasper nodded, his eyes locked onto the fishfinder. "There," he pointed to the screen, where the bottom structure of an old shipping channel rose unevenly from twelve to eight meters. "Hard bottom, exactly the kind of mussel beds where the zander rest against the floor during the day." Fishing the Hollands Diep requires extreme precision. The current and commercial shipping make vertical jigging a challenge, as the shad must constantly dance just millimeters above the bottom. They dropped their lures. Tap. Tap. The monotonous rhythm of the lead head knocking against the hard floor put them into a state of deep concentration. It quickly became clear that the predators had gone on a massive feeding frenzy as the tide began to turn. What followed was a truly extraordinary spell of fishing. Almost every drift over the drop-offs produced action. "Another one!" Marvin shouted, his rod tip pulling violently toward the surface. Less than a minute later, Jasper’s rod was doubled over too. Double hook-ups followed one another at a relentless pace. Medium-sized zander, aggressive perch, and fierce predators took turns smashing the lures. By mid-afternoon, the men barely had time to replace their shads or take a sip of coffee. It was an absolute frenzy beneath the surface. By the time the sun began to dip again, the tally had reached a staggering number. It turned out to be a fantastic day of fishing, ultimately bringing more than thirty zander and other healthy predator fish into the boat. As the ultimate icing on the cake, Jasper’s rod took one last bone-dry hit just before packing up. The rod bent completely double. "Yes, this is the grand finale!" he yelled, as the fish stayed deep with heavy, head-shaking runs. After a nerve-wracking fight right under the boat, an impressive shadow materialized. Large, glowing glassy eyes caught the final rays of sunlight: a golden-brown castle of a zander well over seventy centimeters long. With a smooth motion, Thomas slid the net under the fish. After a quick measurement and a few photos, they let this beautiful final catch slide back into its element. The men looked at each other with tired arms and wide grins. This legendary day on the Hollands Diep was one they wouldn't soon forget.