Not much to write home about

 In my last post 'Rain, Beautiful Rain' I was buoyed by optimism, with great hopes for the season to come.  As always I added a caveat of 'Murphy's Laws permitting'.  Subsequent events have underlined the prescience of that warning, because it's been an incredibly dull summer in which nothing much has gone right.  Even enjoying the garden has been a challenge amidst the cold, wind and rain, and the trout fishing has been correspondingly poor.  Today it's so dark and gloomy outside that in mid-afternoon in early August I've had to turn on the lights to be able to write this post.

Tweed

Rutherford - Long Stream in spring sunshine

In late April I was privileged to fish a day at Rutherford, courtesy of the ever-generous TTMN.  Without doubt Rutherford is one of the most beautiful beats on the Tweed, an absolute gem, and fishing there is real soul food, irrespective of the outcome.  However, having hooked 3 fish in as many casts from a single lie on my last visit, and caught two the visit before,I was feeling quite optimistic.

In the event I blanked, which was as surprising as it was painful, because the water was at a perfect height and felt strongly 'fishy'.  Here is the Island run, looking as good as it ever has, and significantly better than when I took a very lively fish here in 2019.  Lovers was in similar ply and most encouraging of optimism, but in contrast both Mill Stream and Between the Caulds looked and felt flat in the dull grey light.  It's funny how atmosphere affects your fishing morale and confidence.  But as I was to re-learn in July, perfect water guarantees nothing.

Norway

My excited anticipation of our trip to the Orkla was plainly evident in my last post.  As the day of departure approached I noted with trepidation the dismal results from the research bagnets in the Trondheim fjord, especially of the biggest 3 & 4 SW salmon.  Nevertheless, our host's sister in law had caught a 45 pound fish on opening day, which helps to suppress at least some of our concerns.  On the Thursday we got the first warning that the Norwegian government was considering drastic action to protect salmon stocks.  And on the Friday afternoon, when we were fully packed and ready to go to Leeds Airport, they announced the closure of all salmon fishing south of Trondheim.  It was a bitter disappointment, but we were better off than many, including one friend who arrived at Trondheim Airport with a party of 6 rods, just after the announcement.

The standard Norwegian fishing contract T&Cs are that there are no refunds from the operator in such circumstances.  I was fortunate in that one of my credit card policies covered this eventuality and the insurer settled in full for fishing, accommodation, flights and extra luggage.  However, my main travel policy did not: NFU Mutual, normally the most flexible and understanding insurers, went into fine detail to explain that this specific circumstance wasn't covered in the policy wording.  John and Patrick's insurers have held a similar line, although they are challenging this decision.  The lessons here are:

• Ensure you have a comprehensive cancellation cover policy
• Consider paying more to get flexible air tickets that offer refunds on cancellation

Despite this bitter disappointment we are planning on returning next year.  People may think us daft, but when you reach our age you have a certain determination to do things while you still can.

Findhorn

Findhorn - Altyre Beat, Palamore pool

The 3 days on the Findhorn were a complete and unexpected bonus through the generosity of an old friend of 55 years' standing: we joined the Army together as teenagers.  He had booked a week's fishing across the slew of beats, Logie & Relugas, Darnaway and Altyre, which coincided with a substantial run of grilse.  The party did well in the first 3 days, but on the Wednesday afternoon, for no easily discernible reason, the fish went on strike, and they caught only one more from the Thursday when I was there: just my luck!  The water was at an excellent height and although it felt fishy, it clearly wasn't.  Two factors stood out: there was quite a lot of very fine particulate peat suspended in the water; and it had an inky tone and surface foam indicating increased acidity.  The conventional wisdom and my experience elsewhere on the river suggested that such conditions tend to put fish off the take.  For their part the abundant grilse - I saw hundreds running through off each tide on the Thursday - seemed hell-bent on putting in the miles.  Indeed, Drynachan 25 miles upstream was enjoying one of its best July weeks on record, which underlines how fast the grilse were moving.

Visually it is a stunning collection of beats, with some of the most beautiful fishing I have ever enjoyed.

Daranaway - looking upstream from the hut

Darnaway in the gorge is real mountain goat terrain, fishing in narrow defiles and tiny pools.  Despite its visual beauty I must confess that at my age a 130 foot descent to a pool using steps, ladders and ropes, let alone the climb back up, is seriously challenging and not much fun.

At one point, while traversing a rock face 15 feet above the water, I contemplated the near impossibility of landing any fish I might hook beneath me.  The ghillie suggested descending to the flat rock at the foot of the face using the rope provided, but his instructions on how to get back up were less explicit.  I therefore decided to give up fishing the pool at that point, and clamber back up to the hut.

Darnaway - Poolie, looking downstream

This is a classic example of a Darnaway defile, which reminded me of the Dog's Nose on the Helmsdale, but a lot narrower.  The lip and falls out of this mini-pool is in the centre of the photo.  There are only two places from which you can fish Poolie, and no scope for movement.  So I spent much of an afternoon bouncing my tube fly off the rock face opposite to get at the stream of grilse running hard up against the side, to no effect whatsoever, which was very frustrating.  It's one thing if you can't see the fish you're failing to catch, but when they're in full view it's far worse.

Logie - Garden pool

I only fished two pools on Logie, with the picturesque Garden shown here, so I don't have a good view of the entire beat.  It's shorter than it looks in this photo and so didn't take long to fish.  The main interest was in the tail, which is nicely shaped to hold salmon at the short halt after the fast water in the exit, but sadly none were hanging about in the bright sunshine.

Logie - Red Rock

Red Rock is an interesting wading challenge, heavily dependent on detailed local knowledge.  It's very pretty, but sadly remained unwilling to provide a fish.

One of the added pleasures of Logie is the ability to cover the water with a nice small rod that makes grilse much more fun: my 12' 6" XO was a joy and fully capable of reaching the extra yards when needed.

Altyre - Palamore

The Altyre beat is where visual beauty and fishing pleasure come together in optimal delight.  I loved every minute of fishing it.  One of its great attractions is that every few yards poses a different question requiring a new solution of changed presentation, angle, speed and depth.  There's no mechanical cast - step - cast on Altyre.  It keeps you on your mental toes and really adds to the enjoyment.

This is a prime fishing beat in April for the chunky Findhorn 2SW springers, and so one for my wish list.

Altyre - Soldier's Hole

Soldier's Hole is another pool where Ian Neale's local knowledge was invaluable.  Fishing the head involves wading out onto a sandstone ledge that isn't visible from the right bank approach.  From there you can cover the full width to get a good swing through the running line visible in the centre of the photo.  It was there that I had my one decent grilse take of my stay, but as is so often the case with their soft mouths and head-on approach, it didn't stick.

Altyre - William's Run

Soldier's leads down into William's run, which provides delightful fast water fishing to cover a mass of potential short-halt lies, and the possibility of a really exciting fight should you hook a salmon here.  Moreover, running after the fish isn't an option, so you would have to rely on the combined power of prayer and a good drag.

While I was disappointed not to hook a grilse in William's, it was such fun to fish that by the time I reached the bottom I felt extremely happy.

At the end of the 3 days I'd certainly fallen for Altyre and should very much like to return, ideally in the spring.  If you are to really enjoy Altyre and Logie, which are both right bank beats, you have to be confident and competent casting left handed.  On several pools you need to be able to get out to 30 yards to cover the running lines. However, elsewhere in July a 12' 6" rod was ample for the most common requirement of around 25 yards.  One word of caution: if you're considering the privilege of fishing this water, it isn't cheap.

Gruinard

This was a surprise invitation from an old Yorkshire friend that didn't arrive until after I'd written my last post, to fish the water his family have fished for 3 generations across 70 years.  The north west coast of Scotland is stark, beautiful and incredibly sparsely populated.  Indeed, it makes rural North Yorkshire seem positively suburban.  It is also one of the wettest parts of our very damp isles, receiving an average of 6 feet/2 metres of rain annually.  I was therefore amazed on arrival to find the area as dry as a bone and the river as low as it could be.  Amazed yes, but not surprised owing to my respect for Murphy's Laws: my fervent desire for good fishing conditions almost guaranteed the absence of rain.  The complete lack of water made fishing almost pointless, although I did make an effort to gratify my generous host and appease the fishing gods, who clearly unappeased not only failed to deliver a fish but also inflicted serious injury upon me.

Griunard - Bridge Pool, The Labrador's Head

This photo of the aptly named Labrador's Head shows how low the water had fallen.  In normal conditions the water is around its nostrils.  The adjacent channel, which would usually hold fish was too shallow to hold anything.

Griunard - Bridge Pool

This was less a pool than a large slow moving puddle, shallow, warm and gin clear.  To my amazement two grilse came to my tiny #14 double during the first morning, one coming up 4-6" behind, and the other actually getting its mouth onto the fly.  That comprised the entirety of the excitement during my stay.

With the water so low and clear, fieldcraft was essential: avoid sky lining, stay well back from the water, and move very slowly and quietly.  I took this photo after I'd finished fishing the centre section of the pool, before moving round to cover the tail.  The two interested fish were downstream of the small rock showing in the centre left of the shot.

The compensation in these circumstances is the stunning scenery, wild, raw and ancient.

There were plenty of fish hunkered down in this pool, mostly grilse with a few bigger 2SWs that showed periodically.  None of them showed the least interest in any of the variety of flies I tried, even amidst the flurry of activity triggered by an impending break in the weather, which needless to say, failed to deliver any water.

Even in the larger pools like this a single handed rod sufficed, using a mixture of overhead, roll and single Spey casts.  It makes for easy fishing.  I'll be writing a review on the rod, reel and line combination that I used, which proved an excellent choice for the task.

On the Saturday morning the Fishing Gods took their revenge.  Just after I took this photo I hooked and lost a small sea trout of about 1 1/2 lbs.  I was fishing from the rocks rather than the path to get a better presentation, wearing walking shoes as waders would have been superfluous.  But I failed to heed the simple fact that Vibram soles are useless on rock.  I slipped and fell into the water, hitting several rocks along the way  Cursing volubly I picked myself up, checked the rod was intact and prepared to restart fishing.  It was then that I noticed a copious amount of blood dripping into the water.

In falling my right hand had made heavy contact with a very sharp rock, making a cut about 3cm long and inwards to the thumb joint, which was clearly visible.  This brought fishing to an abrupt end.  I rinsed the wound in the river, bound it with a handkerchief and made my way back to my host in his pickup.

As there were no surgeries open in the north west on a Saturday, the nearest treatment was at the A&E unit in Inverness, almost 2 hours' drive away.  Eric the head ghillie, the kindest of men, volunteered to drive me there and to wait for me to be fixed up.  In the event the delay was only about an hour before a nurse applied 2 internal and 3 external stitches, enhanced with liberal quantities of medical superglue, and sent me on my way.

Bad as this was it could have been far worse.  I'd had a near miss on a broken wrist, which would have stuffed the rest of the fishing season and probably a fair amount of the shooting as well.  If the hand and wrist had stuck behind the offending rock, that might have become a broken arm.  The lesson is simple: a small slip can turn pleasurable fishing into significant injury, so always keep a first aid kit in your car and know how to use it, because you never know when your friend's life may depend on your ability to respond effectively.

Gratitude

While I may be disappointed not to have caught a salmon in any of the three wonderful places I have fished so far, I also reflect on the privilege of fishing them and the exceptional generosity of my friends.  When you are in receipt of such kindness it's wholly unseemly to complain about anything.  After all, it's just nature and we don't set the rules: to turn a quote, "man proposes, but the salmon disposes".

Looking Ahead

After such gloom - and it's not in my nature to be gloomy - it's nice to have a week on the Inver and Kirkaig at the end of August to which I can look forward.  Meanwhile my hand is healing nicely, although it will be another week before I can get back to proper gardening.  If you have been more fortunate enjoy the memories and tight lines.