Old Hat

 

Maybe Airlines

Maybe we fly, maybe we don't

Maybe we crash, maybe we don't

Maybe we die, maybe we don't

Sarajevo 1995

This faithful hat has been with me for every step of my salmon-fishing journey, through rain, shine, snow and ice.  Finally, faded under the impacts of wear, tear and rot, it has fallen apart and now must retire.  I'm sad to lose my constant companion.  Whether it was a lucky hat I'll never know, but for 30 years we shared wonderful days and blank days alike.  For all those reasons I feel moved to tell its story.

It bears the logo of Maybe Airlines, the name given by the mordantly humorous Norwegian Movement Controllers to the incredibly brave, skilful and sometimes drunk Ukrainian contract pilots who flew a motley collection of ex-Soviet transport aircraft into and out of Sarajevo under fire in support of the United Nations during the Bosnian War 1992-95. 

The Serbs held Mount Igman and the hills dominating the airport and much of the ground under the final approach path.  An IL-76, a giant barn under some wings and 4 jet engines, was a large, slow-moving target and especially vulnerable while taxiing on the ground.  You approached at night  at altitude before entering a steep spiral descent, then levelled out, took aim at the minimal intermittent runway lights and landed at speed with maximum reverse thrust. 

Once on the taxi-way the back ramp went down, and with the aircraft still moving you threw your bergen out, then followed it into the darkness.  Once the new arrivals were clear, the outgoing passengers reversed the process, throwing their bags in and running up the ramp.  The aircraft never stopped moving, because halting invited mortar fire.  Sometimes things went wrong as evidenced by the wrecked IL-76 at the far end of the runway.  I remain in awe of the bravery and skill of the Maybe crews, and I wore their hat with pride in memory of their service.

In the beginning with the hat, an inherited rod, and the adulation of an admiring dog.....

15 years on, with increasing confidence and success.....

With some very large wild trout along the way......

Year 20 and a serious salmon......

Year 27.......

Spanning a new generation of salmon anglers.....

Year 30 the last wash too many and disintegration

Farewell old friend, but you won't be thrown away.

Just When I Thought.....

 .......it couldn't get worse, it did.  Murphy the weather man was alive, well and kicking brutally throughout 2025.

I finished the last post, Stark Contrasts, on an optimistic note following disappointments on the Orkla and Tweed.  After all, who wouldn't be optimistic with the prospect of a week's fishing on the lovely Helmsdale in early September?  And surely the great Yorkshire drought would have to break at some point?

Helmsdale

Both hopes were cruelly dashed.  The week on the Helmsdale was a fruitless pastime of 'find a puddle among the boulders' and then try something extraordinary to provoke a potted fish into doing something daft.

Lower section, normally fished with a 13 footer
The water in the foreground is less than 18" deep
Grilse were getting this far from the estuary (around the corner)

Upper section
No fishable water

A fishable puddle at Suisgill
Prone casting rock (R) and fish location (L)

During the course of the week I found three puddles holding salmon, and moved fish in all three, but without achieving connection.  I assessed all three events as being a combination of boredom and curiosity, but not genuine taking interest.  In tiny pools with minimal gin-clear water and multitudinous rocks the fishing and watercraft demands were extreme.  Presentation had to be pinpoint accurate with zero disturbance or drag.  The rocks precluded standing off and working at range.  You had to sit down well away from the puddle, stay below the skyline, survey the scene, locate awake fish and decide the attack plan, which could take 45 minutes.  The approach then required high levels of fieldcraft: I hadn't done sustained crawling since giving up deer stalking in 2007.  I cursed myself for leaving my gardening knee pads (brilliant for close quarter trout fishing) at home for the damage to knees and waders alike, but despite the discomfort, the challenge was irresistible.  Faced with an otherwise hopeless quest you have to convert despair into motivation and enjoyment.

In two cases the fishing range was under 20 feet, which are familiar circumstances for a small river trout fisherman, albeit more normally tackled with a 7' #3 rather than a 9' 6" #7.  You have to stay under 30 degrees elevation from the fish, but even then, in strong light (if at all possible, never approach from the sunny side), it may perceive your diffused outline through the reflective underside of the surface.  And remember your rod!  You also need to learn some new tricks: reclining on your right side on the back-slope of a flat rock while side-casting into the breeze with your left hand with only 6' of line outside the tip ring to shoot enough line to allow stripping was a novel challenge.

The most successful fly solution was a hitched Sunray in the MCX colour scheme.  At my request Peter Nightingale had made side holes in the tubes to allow oblique presentation; otherwise a hot darning needle does the DIY job.  The leader had to be plain nylon for flotation rather than my usual fluorocarbon, with a light #12 double tied on a loose loop adjusted to present the hook level with the end of the wing.  In one larger and deeper pot I was able to try a Muddler and then an upstream small Snaelda fished drift-sink-and-draw.  Neither yielded a positive result, whereas the hitched Sunray moved fish in every case.  But the bottom line was that I blanked - again.

Four rods caught only one salmon in the week.  TTMN, fishing a normal fly entirely conventionally landed a good 15 lbs hen fish in the Suisgill pool in the gathering gloom 20 minutes before dinner on the Saturday evening.  This was hugely welcome and most appropriate because this was probably his swansong on his beloved Helmsdale after 40+ years.  Sometimes, however rare, Murphy can be just, kind and smiling.  However, now that TTMN has given up his weeks it is unlikely that I shall ever return to this beautiful place, a sad thought.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention the new Suisgill ghillie Aaron Grant who has succeeded the legendary Donnie Sutherland.  Despite Donnie's departure I still fished his flies out of deference and well-placed fear: he turned up to inspect on the Thursday.  Throughout the week Aaron was unfailingly cheerful, positive and helpful.  Despite his tender years he knows his water and his stuff.  I wish him a long and happy tenure at Suisgill.

The UPS Comedy

Aaron was also incredibly obliging on a personal note amidst a comedy of errors.  Our host broke a section of his Vision Hero on the first day.  I emailed Guide Fly Fishing that evening and by 0900 the next morning a replacement was on its way (hurrah!) with UPS (oh, gloom!).  The UPS tracker said it would arrive on Wednesday night.  It moved rapidly to Inverness, where it stopped and then vanished.  I contacted the UPS service centre somewhere on the far side of the world from which I learnt nothing.  A call to their local office established that UPS don't deliver north of Inverness, where they sub-contract to a local firm, to whom they'd transferred the package earlier that day.  I called the sub-contractor: "we've got the parcel but don't know where it is".   My second call: "It's in Thurso (they'd driven past me to get there) and is coming back to Inverness (passing me again)".  "Could I collect it from Thurso? No".  "Could they drop it at their depot (??) in Helmsdale on the way past southwards?  No, it's unmanned (???).  When might it reach me at Suisgill?  We only deliver up there once per week, so it will be next week.  But I'll be gone by then so please return to the sender".  They delivered it to Suisgill in my absence on the Monday, stating that it had been handed over to me.  The good Aaron duly took charge of the parcel.

Aware that my host was due to fish the Tweed within a fortnight, I called Guide Fly Fishing to discuss a plan.  They cheerfully volunteered to send another section to my home address, timed to coincide with my return, whence I could post it to my host at home in Oxfordshire.  UPS delivered it to Suisgill the following week (you'd have difficulty making this up).  Aaron now had two rod sections, which he taped together and posted via Royal Mail, arriving in Yorkshire 48 hours later.  I had the greatest difficulty persuading him to accept repayment or any compensation for his efforts and inconvenience.  Meanwhile Guide posted a third section to me at home, which reached my host in good time for his Tweed trip.

In a long lifetime of fishing I have enjoyed unfailingly good service from the tackle trade.  But nothing has ever approached the cheerful heroism and forbearance of Liam the customer service lead at Guide Fly Fishing recounted here.  I know it's been a bit long and detailed, but he's a one man clinching argument for investing in Vision or Sage equipment.

Autumn on the Ure

Back in February I had booked six double rod days on Thoresby, spread in pairs across the last week of September and the first fortnight of October.  I made the heroic assumption that even if the summer was dry, there ought to be some water by the time of the Autumn Equinox.  There was, but it was too little, too late.  The first rain came on the 15th, followed by another lift a week later.  But it was woefully insufficient to clear the lower Ouse and then permit a run through to the upper Ure.  My September guest had come all the way from Wiltshire, so we fished half a day and abandoned the second altogether.  There were no fish present.  By early October the water had fallen away completely, so I cancelled to spare my guests wasted shorter trips.  HMCX came up from Bath for the final two-day block and our annual father and son bonding fishing and stay at the Redmire Village Pub (previously the Bolton Arms).  More rain and a moderate lift gave us at least some water, but there were still no fish.  We saw one lonely traveller of about 6 lbs appear on Day 2, before HMCX departed home at lunchtime. I fished on for a couple of hours to pay my respect to the fishing gods but without hope or expectation, while testing a demonstrator Vision XO Graphene 14' 2".  It was a depressing end to an appalling season - a total blank, the first since the great drought and heatwave of 2003.  The impact on my fishing morale was such that it has taken me two months to muster the motivation to write anything.

HMCX fishing the tail of Frodle Dub
historically a good bet at this time of year

Deep Concern

After two consecutive blank seasons on the Ure, with the majority of my guests' days cancelled, I have growing concern over the change in weather patterns we observed in the past decade.  In the 10 years to 2014 we had a normal spread of conditions: 3 dry hot years (2003, 5, 9), 2 very wet (2007, 12), and 5 about average.  There was nothing in that spread that gave any hint of what was to come after 2014.  Seven of the 10 succeeding years have been hot and dry throughout the salmon season.  Only one (2017) had above average rainfall.  The temperature levels have climbed unbelievably: 2016 broke all records until being far exceeded in three of the past 5 years.  In 2025 we had just 25 mm of rain in the Vale of York between 1st March and 15th September - 7.5% of average.  Tributary becks ran dry, Aysgarth Falls stopped flowing and across North Yorkshire aquifers are perilously depleted.   Pollution levels, especially the E Coli counts associated with cow excrement, reached record levels, leading to a ban on bathing.  This was unremitting gloom.

However, the biggest problem was far downstream.  While the flow in the Ouse through York dwindled to previously unrecorded levels, the output from the Naburn water treatment plant serving 300,000 people continued undiminished and thus occupying an increasing proportion of downstream water.  With a growing supply problem and dry reservoirs in the West Riding, Yorkshire water increased abstraction at Kilgram, and then in August secured a licence to take a further 60,000 tons per day from below Boroughbridge.  The combination of dramatically reduced flow, the increased proportion of treated water and exceptionally high temperatures, may have created a static plug of de-oxygenated water at the head of the tide between Selby and Goole.  Once the dissolved oxygen count falls below 5 ppm, salmon can't swim through it.

This factor played a major part in the extinction of salmon in the Ouse system in the 1950s.  From the early 1980s the water quality started to improve as a result of de-industrialisation in York and Selby, better standards applied at Naburn and stricter environmental regulations.  

After the unusually hot summer of 1995 salmon were able to run freely throughout the spring, summer and autumn.  The hot drought year of 2003 is a visible exception.  By 2010 the dissolved oxygen count was so good that the EA suspended measurement.

I had wished to write this section with the help of real current data drawn from the new 'Open Government' data sets available on .Gov.  However, after an hour of frustrated searching and digging I was unable to locate and extract anything of the necessary currency and granularity.  I wanted monthly averages at Boothferry Bridge for the decade 2016-25.  All I could locate was pan-year averages for 2016-19, which are no use whatsoever.  The advice on the site was that if I wanted more detail I should submit a FOI request to the EA, which of course was what you had to do before the Open Government initiative.

Consequently, I have to fall back on the reasonable assumption that the combination of the longest recorded drought, the lowest prolonged flows and the highest average temperature may have recreated the devastating oxygen block; and that these conditions may have prevailed in other recent years.  If that is indeed correct, then we face potentially incalculable impacts on the Ure's salmon population.  The salmon surprised us with the speed of their recovery - from post-extinction to good fishable surplus in a decade - and we can only hope that they can do so again.  But there's no escaping the inference of two blank seasons on a beat that previously gave me up to 28 salmon in a season.  I am deeply concerned.

Minor Tackle Points

Vision Rivermaniac 9' 6" #7 (Medium)

The discolouration of the cork is blood
from my fall on the Guinard  in
July 2024

This is the second season that I have used the medium action Rivermaniac for short-range single-handed salmon work.  I find the action delightful for overhead, Spey, Roll and ad-hoc casting with the Rio #7 Single Handed Spey line.  Unlike still water fishing you aren't striving for distance, so the softer tip isn't a handicap and certainly doesn't prevent you from landing the fly accurately and quietly.  And it's a definite advantage in creating ad-hoc casts (as per the Helmsdale above).

It's my fall back and go to rod for smaller rivers and low water, of which I've seen too much recently.  I also find hitching with a high rod tip much easier with a single hander than a double.

The reel is the budget Hero #7, which is well made and very tough.  My fall on the Gruinard left no significant damage to the heavy green powder coating, but I had to replace the handle that had taken the brunt of the impact.  The spool and spindle remained entirely true.  It's a great workhorse with a lovely handle and an impressive drag.

The best design feature is something I first encountered on the Rulla (tested 2015 but now sadly out of production).  You can see the red backing - a true salmon's worth - nestling in the concave section below the main arbor.  This gives you the double advantage of large capacity in a smaller reel, in a simple bit of elegant design.

On the question of backing, the salmon doesn't know what size of reel you're using, and nor may you only catch small fish with a single hander.  So be prepared: there's 125 yards on there.

Vision XO Graphene 14' 2" #9

I borrowed the demonstrator from Guide Fly Fishing and took it up to the Ure for two days in early October.  The relatively low water on Thoresby and the strong downstream breeze weren't ideal for testing, so I didn't get it out until the afternoon of the second day after HMCX had gone home.  I matched it with a Danielsson Control #9/13 and a Rio Scandi 37g head, which balanced exactly.

I'd had a few casts about 5 years ago with the non-Graphene 14' 2" and didn't immediately warm to it, so I came into this test with a degree of prejudice.

Flesh Dub in autumn
(earlier photo)

Frodle Dub was nowhere near big enough, so I went down to Flesh Dub for more room.  Even with left hand Double Spey and Snake Roll, the head of the pool was too narrow when wading far enough out to form a good D-loop to explore the rod's capabilities.  At short range it felt a little flat and dull. For reference, with an oblique cast around 50 degrees, bank to bank is 38 yards.  I tried a couple of casts at a very shallow angle before going down to the tail onto the ledge between the trees.  There I had the room to form the biggest possible D-loop (which this rod needs) and more distance in front.

So it's a left handed Double Spey, with three generous loops of runner in the fingers of the right hand, a good full low sweep to get maximum momentum into the D, a nice high stop, and the fly lands 10' up the far bank: quite remarkable.  The addition of Graphene has done something special to this rod: it's a through action and loads really deeply in classic Vision style.  The recovery at the stop in the forward cast is extraordinary.  Combining those two potentially conflicting characteristics without apparent compromise is a serious achievement.  

I wouldn't wish to draw too many firm conclusions from such a short test by someone who isn't a first-class caster.  I should have loved to explore the right handed casts, but the wind didn't allow it.  Next season I shall try to borrow it again for use on the Tweed, where there are also opportunities for sinking and other lines.  But its remarkable performance has certainly whetted my appetite for further exploration.  If you get a chance to try one, grab the opportunity because you too may feel some magic.

Happy Christmas

I apologise for there being no MCX Christmas Stocking this year.  My motivation didn't recover in time and there seemed to be a dearth of interesting items to recommend.

Nevertheless I wish everyone the happiest Christmas and everything good in 2026.  Above all I wish for a a nice plain average year's weather in a break from the past decade's dreadful trend.  A bit of normal would be a wonderful gift.

Just One Week is now heading for the milestone of 400,000 page reads since its inception. I am most grateful for your continued readership and support. 

Stark Contrasts

The title of this post has a simple explanation.  At home in Yorkshire it stopped raining in February and less than an inch has fallen since, against a normal average of 9 inches.  The garden is a desert and I'm struggling to keep alive the collection of specimen plants and Acers established lovingly over the past 28 years.  Virtually every plant and tree in the garden is stressed apart from the two giant walnut trees (which I'd cheerfully fell but can't without planning permission, despite planting them myself).  In stark contrast, whenever I've gone salmon fishing, it's poured down - in Norway in late June and on the Tweed in early July as I describe below.  Consequently there isn't much to say about fishing, but I have some tackle points to share.

The Orkla 22-26 June

 

The Orkla at 0400 hrs 23rd June
Langholen Pool
The sun hasn't set, it's just behind the mountains

 

As I reported last year we carried forward our booking at Grindal Lodge to 2025, helped by Krister the manager giving us the fishing for free and only charging for food and accommodation. Freebies go down well in Yorkshire.  Despite the extra costs involved, going to a catered lodge is an appropriate solution at our age, and John and Patrick had enough of my cooking.  Mindful of last year's experience of government-driven closure, every booking - flights, car hire, airport hotel - was cancellable and refundable.  This was of course more expensive, but provided protective peace of mind.  

• 
  Tip - As before I hired a golf club transport box from the local driving range at a cost of £20 to carry rods, boots and waders: as sports equipment this was on KLM's standard 23kg allowance despite its 4' length.  The rest of my clothing, reels, flies and bits fitted into a 9kg walk-on bag.
•  Tip - For more general advice on travel to and fishing in Norway, have a look at 'You want to go to Norway'.

 

Pollen cascade at +85cm
Flowing at almost 12kph - serious temperature barrier

 

 

As our departure approached the catches in the research bag nets in the fjord were poor, but not as disastrous as 2024.  Those fish that did enter the Trondheim rivers were moving slowly in the face of the effects of the coldest and wettest spring in 50 years.  On the Upper Orkla the water temperature didn't reach double figures until 24th June, making both the Bjorset hydro intake dam and the Pollen falls temperature barriers.  Catches at Grindal were low and slow, but the average size was 23lbs, a compensating encouragement.  With government-regulated catch and release in force we assessed that there was only a low risk of another outright stoppage.

 

 

The flights from Leeds to Trondheim were uneventful and we checked into the airport Radisson, where we encountered two parties outbound from their early weeks on rivers just to the north.  Both had caught average numbers and seemed broadly happy.  We picked up the hire car from Sixt first thing the next morning:

•  Tip - I had originally booked a Skoda Octavia Estate back in January on a 'pay at collection' basis.  Car hire everywhere in Europe is now very and unavoidably expensive.  However, by watching Sixt's special deals arriving in my email, a week before departure I was able to re-book a top of the range Volvo XC60 plug-in hybrid for £180 less than the Skoda.  In the event the Volvo used only 12 litres of petrol in 370 km of driving, courtesy of recharging at Grindal.

 We drove up the Orkla valley to Grindal, with snow from 10 days before still evident on the mountains to the east.  To our surprise, during the drive we didn't see a single angler on the river or car with rod clamps.  The level of fishing pressure was far below expectations for Week 26.  The general view is that mandatory C&R (killing salmon for the freezer is a deeply embedded Norwegian culture) and heavily publicised poor prospects had put the locals off.

 

 

Grindal - the view from my room

Grindal Lodge is perfectly located right beside the river, with 6 named pools within easy walking distance, and a further 11 within 10 minutes' drive.  My room was a good size, comfortable and with its own shower room across the corridor.  Our cabin also had a drying room, fitted for waders and boots.

 

The open plan main facility comprised dining and sitting areas and a bar, sized for a maximum of 24 people (12 rods with partners).  The food was excellent and the bar prices extraordinarily modest by Norwegian standards.  A small hut opposite the front door hosted a well supplied compact tackle shop, where you recorded your purchases on the honesty sheet (this is Norway!).

 

In our enthusiasm we had arrived 4 hours early.  With only a few rods out, Krister let us loose on the Home pool (Aunholen) as soon as we had finished disinfecting our waders and boots.

 

 

Aunholen on a dull first afternoon

The water was perfect and standard Norway clear.  The guide's advice was to fish a sinking line with a 15' S3 tip, with a #6 double.  He considered the MCX Dark spot on.

Aunholen is a lovely pool, with a fast neck and 250 metres of primary fishing length within sensible casting range.  The wading line ran outside the rocks in the photo and was relatively easy once you were out of the faster flow.  However, in that situation you had to strip rapidly from the dangle to avoid hooking the rocks.  It was a real pleasure to fish.

 

 

 

 

 

On my first run down the pool I inevitably hooked a rock at the dangle.  There's no point pulling directly, so I stripped off lots of running line and sent it off downstream to pull the fly from the other direction.  This worked a treat so I then started recovering a copious length of runner, far more than I need for the next cast.  To prevent another snagging I roll cast the main line out at 45 degrees and set about sorting myself out.  This sort of shambles is the perfect way to induce a take, and so it proved.  As the fly came round towards the dangle, a hefty thump from the tail-kick of a good fish proved the point.  I had no choice but to manage the first stage of the contest from the three loops of line arrayed on the fingers of my left hand.  The emergence of the fish onto the surface suggested that in my fear of a tangle, I was being much firmer than I would from the reel.  It did, however, allow a good look at a fresh salmon in the range 15-18 lbs.  Unfortunately this thrashing proved to be a good escape strategy, and after 10-15 seconds it came off.  I was disappointed but not downhearted, having hooked a good fish within 30 minutes of starting.

 

 

Frona - Patrick fishing down

We then went upstream, and changed banks to fish Frona, another lovely pool with 250 metres of fishable length ample for two rods and easy wading on pea gravel.  The running line was in the centre, well within easy casting range.  It was so lovely, a delight in salmon fishing heaven.

 

At around 1815 we called it a day and went in for a beer and a hearty supper, where we met the other 10 rods in the Lodge.  They were a cheerful and eclectic group of Swedes, Norwegians, Danes, and a charming Irishman.  Together they provided amusing company throughout our stay.  Remembering our lessons from 2017 we didn't fish into the night, but predictably I rose early to fish the Langholen pool at the top of the post before a hearty breakfast.

 

 

Korsholen
Half way down the upper section

We then went up to Korsholen, which is one of the best fish-holding pools on Grindal.  The top section is classic streamy water with lots of evident lies, while the bottom is massively deep - more than 25 feet in places and full of complex eddies - making it a real challenge to fish well.

I started on the top section, picking my way along the edge of the rocks.  The white water in the centre of the photo, generated by a couple of boulders, marks the transition from top to bottom.  As the MCX came round to the inside of the bigger boulder towards the dangle, my line gently headed off downstream, before parting company from an unseen salmon.

 

 

To fish the bottom section most effectively Krister recommended increasing to an S6 tip to work the depths on the far side.  Reaching all of them required some fairly heroic casting, but the 14' 7" Hero was well up to the job, which earned me my first even compliment on my casting from a guide or ghillie - unexpected but very gratifying.  As we were winding up for lunch the weather started to break into another stark contrast.  By 1400 it was near-biblical, coming down in sustained stair rods, with splashes rising 4" above the surface of the water.  Determinedly we went down to the bottom of the beat to fish the legendary Igdholen, another fish-holding pool.

 

 

Igdholen
Looking down to the tail from the left bank

The photo doesn't really show the full horror of the conditions.  The last time I fished in such rain was in 2015 in a downpour on the Deveron in my old Snowbee Prestige jacket, with water streaming in through the failing seams.  At least on this occasion, clad in a brand new Patagonia ST, I stayed completely dry, albeit I hate fishing with the hood up, depriving me of spatial and situational awareness, while creating constant feedback in my hearing aids.  It was absolutely miserable.  There were good numbers of big salmon moving and running in the rising water.  A moving 30 pounder is a majestic sight.  After battling the elements for 3 hours we called it a day, returning to the Lodge to meet Team Sweden who had decided to have a party rather than fish, and so were in excellent humour (and voice).

 

 

Kotterholen in spate
The normal wading line is down the left bank

By the next morning the Orkla was big, brown, ugly and downright dangerous.  We had no choice but to pass a quiet day in and around the Lodge: there are no extramural activities within 20 miles.

The following morning the river had fallen somewhat, but reaching the start point on Aunholen required 200 metres of wading up the bankside path.  Neither of us felt comfortable with the demands of the wading in the pool, so we called it a day at 1200 and set about packing up and loading the car.

 The return flight to Leeds was uneventful, despite the issues caused by Donald Trump attending the NATO conference in Amsterdam.

 

 

So what did I learn from the three days on the Orkla?

• All salmon fishing is a gamble with the weather.  You just have to stay philosophical, even after your third Norwegian disappointment.
• The Orkla is a beautiful river, which in normal conditions (i.e. not in the current downturn in runs) offers fantastic fishing.
• The pools and fishing at Grindal are as good as they come.  The beat comprises the longest contiguous salmon fishery in the lower half of Norway, which offers a refreshing change from the long-haul driving between pools on the Gaula.  We never had to wait or compete for a pool, nor did we encounter another angler while fishing.
• The Lodge is great in every respect - rooms, facilities, food, atmosphere - with outstanding staff.  And to our surprise, much cheaper than we anticipated.  My extras bill for three days' food, accommodation, guide tips, beer and wine, and two packets of Mustad Strong #6 doubles amounted to less than £120.
• I'll cover the tackle and technique points later. 

 

 A Week on the Tweed

A very old friend invited me to join his 4 rod party at Boathouse on the Tweed in the first week of July. I accepted quickly and joyfully: another friend of the same vintage was in the party (the three of us started our Army training together in the same platoon 56 years ago); our host is an ace cook and bon viveur; the main objective was a holiday with fishing rather than a pure fishing holiday (if you get the distinction) and the location adjacent to Berwick offered numerous diversions; the Boathouse lodge is excellent; and there were opportunities to fish new water.  It promised to be a happy and fun week, and so it proved.  We arrived in searing heat and clear blue skies, fishing in T-shirts on the Monday.

 

Boathouse & Canny Middle Section
Ladykirk middle hut opposite

 

The Boathouse & Canny is a quite short, less than 1/2 mile, right bank beat that marches with Ladykirk and divides into three sections.  The top is around a lazy bend with slow-moving water that is deep in places, and offers little fishable length from the right side.  Moreover, the wading is ghastly.

The middle section known as the Flats, shown here, is broad, shallow and quite slow, especially in the lower water that favours the Bottom Tweed beats.

The short bottom section, which starts opposite the Ladykirk hut is the most interesting and productive. 

 

 

Pedwell
Island run down towards Norham Bridge

Fortunately our host had also booked slots on Pedwell and Horncliffe downstream, both of which are longer, more interesting and much more productive. 

I really enjoyed fishing the Island on the dull grey Tuesday, with a high level of expectancy and anticipation, albeit in a gusty 20-25 mph wind.  The second time down I moved a fish with an MCX pattern Sunray in the usual sequence of visible turn in, follow and turn away short of the fly.  It wasn't large, perhaps 6-7 lbs, but its nice bright sliver livery flashed in the turn away.

 

There weren't many fish running, but each tide produced another small flight, including the occasional large salmon making a majestic appearance.  Catching remained possible, provided that the river didn't rise.   Inevitably, driven by that dependence and in stark contrast to Monday, the heavens opened on Wednesday.  Unlike Grindal, I didn't even attempt to fish in the conditions to catch the early part of the lift.  Overnight it went up 2-3' with lots of pale Till mud reducing visibility to zero.  Thursday and Friday were washed out, so we did lots of tourism (Alnwick Castle Gardens, Bamburgh beach) and I laid on a battlefield tour of Halidon Hill (1333) just over the river, where the evidence suggests that my Berkshire serf forebear fought for King Edward III in defeating the Scots, before being forcibly resettled in Northumberland to garrison Warkworth.  Sadly the wash-out meant that we lost our day on Horncliffe, although I did go down to renew my acquaintance with Gary Hillary, previusly head ghillie at Bywell, and to walk the water.

On the Saturday I fished Pedwell once more, on the Island and the Castle Stream below the bridge, yet again in a stiff wind.  The water was still too high to help the pools, and unfortunately, at about 1000 it started to rise again and show more colour.  Even with boatman Peter Lee's effervescent enthusiasm, we knew we were on a lost cause and finished in time for an early tea.

So it was another disappointment, coming hot on the heels of the Orkla, and following several last year.  Hopefully the cycle will break at some point.  Nevertheless, while disappointed I wasn't downhearted.  We enjoyed a tremendous fun week in great company and I had the pleasure of exploring new water.  The party all agreed that the formula was a great success in everything but fish, so we're going back next year, but with more slots on Pedwell and Horncliffe added.

Understandably I don't have many original learning points to offer from the truncated week.  Both are drawn from the adverse conditions:

• A strong wind from any direction will always trigger us into trying harder.  We have to guard against this by consciously taking it easy and sustaining a strong high stop.  Don't fight the wind, work out how to use its effects to our advantage, and always remember that it's the stop that makes it go, not extra effort. 
• On the Saturday afternoon the height of the water and the difficult wading kept me very close to the right bank on the Castle Stream.  The 20-25 mph wind was downstream and about 45 degrees into my face.  The options were either a right handed Snake Roll or Double Spey.  Given the strength of the wind, the Double Spey with its waterborne anchor was the safest and most reliable choice.  In addition, the very limited D-loop space forced me to compromise on distance and angle by placing the anchor further out and making the cast more of a roll than a Spey.  With less than 6' of space behind me I was quite happy to use the wind to reach the flow line at 45-60 degrees, rather than fighting the combined foes of bankside grass and wind with a big square cast.  Generally most fish are caught on your side of the river, so don't fret about distance.

 

Tackle & Techniques

Vision Hero 14' 7" #8/9

 

I used the big Hero exclusively on both the Orkla and the Tweed. Originally I took this rod to the Spey in 2022 as a demonstrator and liked it so much that I bought it.  It also did sterling service on the Tay in 2023.  On the Orkla it was in its element with sinking heads, hefty tips and big flies.  It made the whole exercise so easy, reliably exploiting three good loops of running line to reach the target.  On the Orkla I used the 650 grain Gamechanger I/S2/S3 with a 15' S3 or S6 tip (more below) or a 10' heavy MOW; and on the Tweed either a floating 37g Scandi with an S3 or S6 tip, or the 38g Guideline 3D I/2/3.

The action and hand feel are delightful: you know everything that's going on, yet it has the muscle to cope easily with sinking heads, in both extraction and back-cast (the acid tests) and delivery.  Despite being only 5" shorter than 15 footers, it just feels lighter in the hand and more wieldy.  It's easy: even at my advanced age I was able to fish this rod for an hour without feeling tired or stiff.

For an entry level rod it's remarkable, and it has the best value-engineered reel seat in the business.

 

Rio GameChanger Sinking Head

The prevalent advice was to get something for the Orkla that would cut down through fast water more reliably than the Guideline 3D that I've had for 10 years and more.  With the discontinuation of the sinking Rio Scandi heads, I bought the new GameChanger I/S2/S3 for the 2024 trip but only had the chance to use it this year.

 At heart it's a Skagit, just 23' long, but you have tremendous flexibility through your choice of tips, because the entire Rio family achieve balance at all lengths.  With a 15' InTouch it's the same length as a Scandi but with greater weight shifting capacity endowed by the head's profile.  And with a fast sinking 10' 3D MOW it's a pure Skagit, ready to shift anything.

 

I found its longer range casting performance to be far better than I anticipated (based on experience with earlier Skagit profiles), delivering reliable turnover of 15 foot tips and weighted tubes.  And it doesn't arrive with the unseemly crash that was characteristic of its predecessors.  Only in the slowest water did I have to roll the tip onto the surface, otherwise there was enough weight in the back of the head to power reliable extraction with a Snap T.  Double Spey was a doddle.  It's versatile and the wide range of tip choices gives you plenty of flexibility for adapting quickly to the conditions. The GameChanger matched the requirements posed by the Upper Orkla exactly, and it's become a fixture in my armoury. 

Rio Powerflex Ultra Shooting Line

I needed a new running line of appropriate breaking strain for Norway (i.e. >30 lbs).  As my old favourite coated line with the orange gripping section is no longer made (why not Rio?), I selected the Powerflex Ultra and on arrival, carefully eased and straightened it on the lawn before winding onto the Control #9/13.  My version is electric blue and slicker than a greased weasel.

I should have taken a hint from the colour.  The last time I had a blue Rio running line it proved to be a tangling horror on the Dee a decade or more ago.  This was worse.  Within 2 hours of starting on the Orkla I was reduced to swearing at Rio owing to the frequent tangles in the first or second ring.

 

Wading in moderately quick water my carefully measured loops (3, 4, 5 draws), first twisted themselves, and then irresistibly, with each other.  About 85% of the time they sorted themselves out on release, but the balance of 15% (or 1 in 6) is about 6 times too high for my liking.  In quiet water there wasn't a problem, and you can shoot an awful lot of Powerflex (by my standards at least).  It floated well and was clearly visible.  The next issue emerged over a day or so on both the Orkla and the Tweed while retrieving to re-cast: it eats flesh.  It cut through the top joint seam of the middle fingers of both hands, causing discomfort and bleeding that required attention with electrical tape.  No doubt some tyro in Idaho can do great things with this line, but mine's going in the bin, as in all conscience I just can't inflict it on anyone else.

I continue to believe that slickness in a running line is an overrated quality, and have a strong preference for tangle-free reliability and easy handling, even if it does cost me a few yards.  For that reason I always buy one level higher breaking strain for its greater diameter and reliability.  Of course, in Norway you need a strong running line: with a 30lbs abrasion resisting leader you don't want to be losing an entire head.  Breaking a 30lbs leader requires a Herculean effort: get your rod out of the way; tie a clove hitch of running line around your wading stick, apply your thumb to stop it slipping and use both hands; then dig your heels in and sharply apply your full weight in a shock pull.  And that still didn't break it; my fly came free. 

 

Looking Ahead

Yorkshire is still locked in drought with a hosepipe ban in force.  The struggle to preserve my garden is becoming intense.  We are hoping for a break in the weather next week, but as that's driven by thunderstorms there is a likelihood that they could miss us completely.  Wherever they may go we desperatley need rain in all out rivers, and especially those in the Ouse system (Swale, Ure, Nidd, Wharfe, Aire and Calder) to clear the oxygen block at the head of the tide between Selby and Goole.  Without that no salmon can run.  I don't wish to upset my farming friends, but for many reasons the state of our rivers is a matter of the deepest concern, so please let's have some proper rain.

We'll need a lot of it over a period of 2-3 weeks to get salmon well up the Ure.  In any event August is devoted to grandparent duties (all 6 in relays with overlaps) so taking a day off to fish Thoresby is a most unlikely prospect.  However, there is more fishing ahead in early September, when the amazingly kind TTMN has invited me to join him for a week on the Helmsdale, a river that I absolutely adore at a time of year when snow is unlikely to be on the agenda. I am fortunate indeed.

If you manage to get out, tight lines and have a wonderful time.

Helmsdale Sunset