Italian for pig

Deepest November, Gwyd and I were asked to look after some Italian gents staying up at Talla lodge and introduce them to Scottish salmon fishing. The weather was testing, as in bollocks-freezing, but our game visitors were up for braving the cold winds.

I was looking after a retired cobbler from northern Italy who developed a hilarious penchant for Scottish tree hugging, so enamoured was he by some of our more impressive native hard woods. He was a trout angler from upland Italian streams and looked like the kind of old boy who knew a trick or two about winkling out fish.

Fishing down below Dawyck Mill bridge he was casting well, putting a decent line out and covering a likely looking glide when his reel suddenly whirred briefly and he, being a life-long trout fisherman, instinctively struck –  salmon lost. He turned to ask  in hushed tones if that was indeed a salmon. I nodded, explaining again in earnest fashion how crucial it was not to strike but to let the fish take line. His giant, cobbler’s hands and craggy features tightened and, shaking his noble Italian head, he cursed ‘porco, porco, porco, porco’ over and over again, repeating this ancient Roman lament at regular intervals.

He fished on with renewed vigour for the rest of the afternoon but the salmon, and his chance, had gone. We tried for some grayling later in the day and Maximillian managed to catch a small but perfectly formed lady of the stream. This proved to be a day though when the larger fish at Dawyck were keeping a very low profile . . . 

And that my sympathetic fishing friends, is Italian for pig!

FishWild
The Old Post Office
Stobo
Upper Tweeddale
tel: 01721 760 241
mob: 07791 696 129
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Salmon fishing in Scotland on the River Islay.

FishWild recently introduced husband and wife Akira and Emiko Nemura and their friends Makoto and Yuichiro to salmon fishing in Scotland on the River Islay. We fished the Coupar Grange beat where first-class ghillie John Mutter is the man to listen to. John's ghillied there for over a decade and put us right on the fish. The Monday morning was cold with an easterly blowing hard upstream, but ten minutes into the fishing Makoto hit something big. After a very, very hard fight Makoto landed a 21lb springer of gleaming silver. A quick photo and one truly stunning hen fish went back to the water. A lot of people fish for years, all their lives even, and never land a fish like this - Makoto struck solid silver after ten minutes, spoiled for life!

Over the two days the Nemura party landed three kelts and two cracking springers, the other springer also a stunner, of 9lb, that Emi caught on the fly. Coupled with a fine FishWild venison stew, a hearty Malbec or two and Jura whisky, good times were had.

FishWild
www.fishwild.co.uk

No Subject

FishWild recently introduced husband and wife Akira and Emiko Nemura and their friends Makoto and Yuichiro to salmon fishing in Scotland on the River Islay. We fished the Coupar Grange beat where first-class ghillie John Mutter is the man to listen to. John's ghillied there for over a decade and put us right on the fish.
The Monday morning was cold with an easterly blowing hard upstream, but ten minutes into the fishing Makoto hit something big. After a very, very hard fight Makoto landed a 21lb springer of gleaming silver. A quick photo and one truly stunning hen fish went back to the water. A lot of people fish for years, all their lives even, and never land a fish like this - Makoto struck solid silver after ten minutes, spoiled for life!

Over the two days the Nemura party landed three kelts and two cracking springers, the other springer also a stunner, of 9lb, that Emi caught on the fly. Coupled with a fine FishWild venison stew, a hearty Malbec or two and Jura whisky, good times were had.

FishWild
www.fishwild.co.uk

Go with the flow

Fishing in Caithness is like a slow-burning love affair, writes Finlay Wilson, who is charmed by the Flow Country’s limitless waters and wild trout sport
  
CAITHNESS MEANS ONE thing for game-fishers – big wild trout. The likes of lochs Watten, Heilen, St John’s and Calder hold prized fish and all across the region, a place where Pictish tribes and Vikings used to roam, the famous Flow Country of peat bog, moorland and empty skies is silvered by waters that offerhuge potential.
 
It is not only in the well-kent gems that you can find great fish, for here lies an area of the far north which offers almost endless opportunities for high-quality fishing. Indeed, it is this range of infinite possibilities that is Caithness’s principal charm. Like a slow-burning love affair, the longer you spend tracing the austere, open landscapes, the further you will fall under her spell. No doubt stony ground and disappointments will be endured along the way but the Flow Country is crammed full  of shallow, fertile lochs that provide the perfect environment for our indigenous trout.
  
On a previous visit to the region, in June 2005, I took to the hills south of Strathy and discovered a loch whose inhabitants really had to be seen to be believed. The best fish encountered there was close to 4 lb, with broad shoulders, a small head indicative of a pelagic lifestyle and a colossal tail. I had taken only a 9 ft five-weight outfit into the wilds and subduing this specimen proved challenging. It was in perfect condition and matched the best fight of any fish I’ve had – salmon, trout or sea-trout – leaving an indelible impression on my mind.
  
Three years is too long to be away from such potential treasures and a return this year was given further impetus after photographer Euan Myles and my guiding colleague Davie Shearer stumbled across another pocket of lochs back in May. Having initially targeted the likes of Watten and Scarmclate, which were struggling to produce good sport at the time due to hellishly cold easterlies, they were given a lead to the lochs of Strathmore Lodge, further south and west. Patrick Sinclair is the colourful and entertaining owner of Strathmore and has fishing on a string of cracking waters in the area around the upper Thurso and Loch More, south of Halkirk.
  
On the first morning we targeted Loch Dubh na Gead. After a trout season consistently blighted by cold north winds, low temperatures and generally dreich weather, the hope was, as always, for warm, steady westerlies and overcast skies. What we got for the most part, yet again, was another cold front, persistent drizzle and yet more icy air, which didn’t even have enough grace to keep an infuriatingly healthy population of midges at bay. Undeterred, and with head nets at the ready, we arrived at Dubh na Gead and were confronted by a flat calm. A slight ripple appeared from time to time but the first hour of slowly pulling one team (small Hare’s Ear and Diawl Bach) lower in the water column, and another team with more garish, wake-inducing end-of-season fare, produced nothing. Trout were beginning to rise sporadically, however, so I began experimenting higher in the water with a sparsely dressed Bibio Hopper on the top dropper. Covering a fish which had conveniently made its presence known just off a likely looking rocky point brought a solid take, and a trout comfortably over 1 lb came to the net.
Then the drizzle set in and with it the anticipation of a long slog ahead. What actually happened was a joy to behold. A considerable trickle of olives started hatching and Dubh na Gead came alive. By this point I was about 100 feet out into the loch, though still onlyhip-deep, and was suddenly surrounded by steadily feeding trout, head and tailing through the flat grey surface and taking their fill. An excited change to a suitable Olive emerger pattern on the middle dropper soon brought action and a fascinating hour or so ensued. With the trout so locked on to such specific pickings, and so high in the water, dropping the flies on the anticipated cruising path of feeding fish was key. But occasionally a trout would chase a Hopper on the top dropper as it was cajoled through the surface film, and the best of the trout taken during this period of intensive activity came to a steadily pulled flashback Hare’s Ear on the point.
  
Regular shouts from the other side of the loch signalled Euan was also enjoying close encounters with Caithness beauties and on comparing notes afterwards it was obvious this particularly welcome hatch had been widespread, producing a fine haul of trout between 11⁄4 lb and 13⁄4 lb.
  
After this enthralling session on Dubh na Gead we headed back to base (Euan’s camper van) then back up to Strathmore for the 20-minute walk across the moor opposite the lodge to fish Cherigal. By the time we got out in the boat the temperature had dropped and although there was more of a breeze, by this point it was fickle. After an hour or so drifting chaotically without an offer we called it a day. A good-sized fish had shown in the top bay above the boat mooring on our arrival but otherwise nothing. There are fine trout in this water, as Euan and Davie discovered in May, but they weren’t for playing on this particular visit.
  
Back at the Lodge we caught up with Patrick to see where he was keen for us to fish on our second, and final, day. He mentioned three adjoining lochs, a good hike into the hills south and west of Dalganachan. Patrick himself had helped transport wild trout up there years previously and felt they deserved a lot more attention. A Frenchman staying at the Lodge had visited them more recently and come away with plenty of fish of 2 lb and more.

 

 

 

Marked on the Ordnance Survey map as Lochan Airigh Leathaid, they appear in Bruce Sandison’s Trout Lochs of Scotland, the 1992 edition, described as three classic hill lochs with trout averaging 1 lb and bigger fish, too. The next morning we trekked up there and began on the most southerly of the three, which looked perfect and at least had a ripple in parts. Two hours of fishing ideal-looking water all around the loch produced not a sniff, and not one trout was seen. We moved on to the middle loch and what would have been the largest of the three, but was now shrunken to one-third its former size, weedy and spookily calm. Insects were coming off the water sporadically but not a thing moved. We sat and watched and watched: nothing, even when a breeze picked up. Half an hour was spent fishing but it appeared to all intents and purposes to be devoid of fish, as did the final lochan, a small dark water on which big dry-flies were skated across to no effect. We left convinced that these lochs are now fishless, the stocks having failed to reproduce in them and died out. The time-scale of past successes and the size of the fish encountered by anglers, Sandison and the Frenchman included, tallies closely with the date of the stocking, but who knows? Just because Euan and I failed to see or touch fish doesn’t mean to say they’re not there.
  

After this intriguing but ultimately fruitless foray, we descended to the van and followed the single track back north and through the forestry that surrounds Altnabreach Station and south again to Loch Eun, our final destination. Incidentally, this is an area where afforestation has caused controversy due to the delicate nature of the ecology here and its global importance to fauna and birdlife. Much of it is now being reclaimed thanks to sustained opposition and Sandison, who used to live in the region, was a strong critic and campaigner against the planting from the outset. More recently, the LIFE Peatlands Project supported by RSPB, Forest Enterprise, Scottish Natural Heritage, Plantlife Scotland and the Forestry Commission has been putting right some of the wrongs (www.lifepeatlandsproject.com). One positive, for the selfish angler at least, is that the forestry roads have made many lochs that bit more accessible and they provide a fascinating network, if rough in places, allowing access to fine hunting grounds.
  
South of Altnabreac’s swathes of forestry Loch Eun nestles amid unblemished moor. This is how the Flow Country is meant to look: vast, empty, a sometimes eerily silent land, where blanket bog stretches for mile upon mile and huge skies dominate all. South- west of the loch lies Cnoc Crom-Uilt, round to Cnoc Garbh-leathaid, and further south again the heights of Bad Shionnach and Maiden Pap. We arrived at the water late in the afternoon. Again it was windless, but with a chill in the air. Big fish occasionally rose, too far from the bank to reach. From the boat merely shifting position caused too much disturbance.
  

Eventually I resorted to fishing from the bank again, opposite the boat moorings, and spotted a trout working its way round the margins, eating its supper. I cast a small cul-de-canard Hare’s Ear Shipman’s close by. The trout rose closer to me than the fly, then doubled back and took it. Just as we had begun to give up the ghost, a 2 lb trout came to the net and Eun had been conquered. Then the sun started to set, the loch became a limitless mirror reflecting every detail of the infinite above in its surface, as water, land and sky became one. Here was a place to soothe the soul, where great things or terrible deeds could come and pass, and new adventures begin, and not a thing would change. The odd trout still broke the surface but even an obsessive like Euan ceased to cast. Sometimes such beauty is better left untouched.
  

In the morning, on our way back to the main road through Strath Halladale, we fished round a loch known for its willing, small trout: comfort fishing after the hard days just past. Now, of course, conditions were perfect and, for spells, two fish at a time were on. Naturally, as tends to happen in these parts, before heading back to the lowlands we stumbled across yet another glut of wild waters and spoke to a man with tales to tell and places to fish. But they are for another time. Go with the flow, as Euan likes to say – just go with the flow. 

 

Factfile - Strathmore Lodge offers traditional Scottish sporting holidays with lodge accommodation, fishing, stalking and shooting. Contact: Mr & Mrs Patrick Sinclair, Strathmore Lodge, Westerdale, by Halkirk, Caithness KW12 6UP. Tel: 01847 841 227. Website: www.strathmorelodge.co.uk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WILD TROUT UNDER BIG SKIES

WILD TROUT UNDER BIG SKIES

  A thirst for adventure and modest planning are needed when seeking wild loch sport who explores a handful of lovely, lofty waters near Loch Ness

 

TRIPS TO WINKLE out wild trout from Scotland’s more northerly retreats always run the risk of being affected by testing weather, no matter how meticulous the planning. Indeed, adverse conditions come with the territory and make these challenges more character- building. One recent foray, however, was almost blown out of the water before it had begun, courtesy of our former prime minister, who had literally and metaphorically hit the detonator button when giving the go-ahead to a particularly gargantuan hydro-electric scheme. Photographer Euan and I had principally targeted the waters south of Loch Ness, around the Whitebridge Hotel, an area with a historic reputation for very large trout, but before this adventure we planned an appetiser – we would hike west into the Monadhliath mountains, to a string of connected hill lochs, which Euan had fished many years ago when he had bumped into a fair few trout over 2 lb. A return was clearly overdue, but just before departure and upon close inspection of an Ordnance Survey map, it became apparent to us that a change of scenery would be required. The new Glendoe hydro scheme that had been opened by Tony Blair was much larger than we had thought. It has become a vast engineering site, the first large-scale conventional hydro-electric station to be built in Scotland for almost 50 years. It was bad planning on our part. You have been warned.

 

So, always have a plan B, and on this occasion we turned our attentions to the famous Glenmoriston lochs, just north of Ness, which also have a reputation for big trout – and dourness. I had first read about them in Bruce Sandison’s Trout and Salmon Rivers and Lochs of Scotland and had been tipped the wink at a tackle-shop in Inverness. Most prominent among them is Ma Stac and here, in the first half hour, wading around a perfectly shelving sandy bay, I missed six fish, at least two of which would have made the perfect picture. One of them showed its considerable bulk through the waves as it head-and-tailed over my top dropper, falling easily into the 3 lb-plus bracket. Two more fish produced boils not quickly forgotten as they plucked, but evaded, a Bibio variant. Meanwhile, Euan landed a beautiful fish of just over 1 lb. Like me, he thought we were in for a special day.
Then the wind swung round to the north-east, snow-capped peaks to the north vanished in the cold, driving rain, followed by Glencoe and the Aonach Eagach ridge to the west, and that was that. The loch was transformed, firmly adopting its dour persona, and that fine line between resounding success and glorious failure had been agonisingly crossed. Sometimes you just know when your best chance has gone. But some waters immediately get under your skin and, for me, this was one.

  There was a debate over dropping our elevated height – we were at 1,600 ft – and trying a lower-lying loch close by. But I stubbornly refused. We fished on – hard – for the rest of the day, covering bay after seductive bay, which had "big-trout territory" written all over them, but only Davie managed to pull out another trout, a game half-pounder.Fortunately, after such a chastening start, we were booked in to the Whitebridge Hotel, where home-made pies of the steak-and-venison variety and free-flowing Guinness quickly lifted our spirits. The proprietors, David and Sarah Murray, took over four years ago after careers as classical musicians in Wales. They have demonstrated their good taste by changing little, and Sarah’s wholesome approach to producing uncomplicated, high-quality local fare from the kitchen makes this the perfect base for visiting anglers. The Whitebridge, by the River Fechlin, is a rare specimen: an unpretentious sporting hotel, built in 1899, that has managed to retain its charm from a time when the large cased trout which grace the walls swam wild and free. The biggest on show, at more than 8 lb, was caught in 1922. A glance through more recent catch returns in the main hall revealed a healthy peppering of loch trout over 2 lb. So, after a deep sleep and a fine full breakfast, we hit Loch Knockie, ready for the challenge, regardless of high, broken cloud and a cold, squally breeze which, whenever it settled for any length of time, seemed to blow from the north and east again. At least there was a breeze – fellow anglers from the hotel had fished the loch the previous day and struggled in a flat calm.

  This is an alluring part of the country, where big skies pour an ethereal light on to the ancient birch and the alder of what is, for the most part, an unspoilt glen. This sparsely populated pocket of Inverness-shire has a charm all of its own. Stunning Loch Knockie runs west to east and we had been advised that the far side of the loch, lengthwise from where the boats are moored, was the place to find better fish. We motored there, stopping for a couple of promising drifts on the way, of which there were many, and managed to pick up a few trout. The first came to sunk-line tactics, David doing well with his Invicta Special on the point and an Octopus on the top dropper, but the fish were dark and on the small side. Before long, however, the temperature rose and flies were taken either on the drop or as soon as they landed.

  By the time we reached the business end of the loch, the sun was showing intermittently, and every time it disappeared, larger trout would start to take Peach Muddlers, Bibios and claret-tinged Hoppers fished in the surface. It became apparent that Knockie trout don’t mess about. The first couple of better fish we hooked felt much bigger than the solid pounders that they turned out to be, and they were no slouches in the looks department, either – beauty and brawn perfectly combined. There are two islands at this end of the water, with shallows between them and the far shore, and large boulders just off their fringes. Coupled with the healthy amount of insect life in evidence, there can be no doubt that these areas will hold the kind of trout you would want to spend more time pursuing. We mostly alternated two rods between the three of us and fished steadily until mid-afternoon, continuing to struggle with the unpredictable wind.

  Despite the far-from-ideal conditions we comfortably caught more than 40 trout with many around the pound mark and a handful of better fish providing great sport. If this is how Knockie fishes in tricky weather, hitting it when it’s properly "on" must be something to behold. It boasts countless likely looking bays, islands and wooded shorelines and so, as one of the country’s most scenic lochs, unlocking its secrets holds great allure. We had two more waters to cram into the day and so hot- footed it to Bran, the hotel’s other loch. It is small, nestling in a dip to the east of Whitebridge, near Foyers, and surrounded by natural woodland. Big trout have been encountered here, too, but it has a reputation for dourness and is tricky to fish.

  Our first drift produced a feisty pounder, but two hours of varied tactics later had only thrown up a couple of smaller trout and when that palpable sensation of fish inertia fully set in we gave up the ghost, and were left to imagine what this intriguing little water might be like on a balmy summer evening. By the time we had climbed to sumptuous Loch Killin for a cast the temperature had plummeted to 7 deg C with a cold easterly wind and the day was fading fast. This truly is a dramatic setting and it is easy to see why the loch is so popular with Arctic char enthusiasts, who aim to make a visit here at the back-end of the season. Just casting a line before darkness fell was enjoyable enough and a small, offering presented in the surface layer brought a lovely fingerling to hand, boasting the most delicate hues of blue that I think I have ever seen. More pints were shared back at the hotel, along with the regret that another day wasn’t available to follow up local advice on less well-known waters where big trout lurk. A return for those is already on the cards.

   
Factfile

  Whitebridge Hotel (David and Sarah Murray), Inverness IV2 6UN. Tel: 01456 486 226. E-mail: info@whitebridgehotel.co.uk Web: www.whitebridgehotel.co.uk Boats from the hotel are £20 for the day or £12 for a half-day/ evening. Booking is required from May-July. Further fishing is available from the Dell Estate. Call Colin Barclay, tel: 01456 486 470. For the Glenmoriston hill lochs, contact the Lodge Estate at Invermoriston, tel: 01320 351 300.