Loch Hakel

sandison

Loch Hakel is the first loch I fish at the start of the season. It lies about 10 minutes drive from my front door in the small village of Tongue in North Sutherland. Find it on OS Map 10, Strathnaver, Scale: 50,000, at Gd ref: 570530. The loch is surrounded by wildlife-rich peat moorlands and covers an area of about 60 acres.  It is generally circular in shape, filling a shallow hollow guarded by Ben Loyal (765m) the Queen of Scottish mountains and this makes  it the ideal place to escape from howling winds. It is always possible to find a sheltered bank from which to cast on Loch Hakel.



Our Neolithic ancestors also appreciated this benefit and some made their homes there. One of the most important European reminders of their passing, 36 cup-and-ring markings, are to be found carved on the top of a huge boulder on the south east shore of the loch near to the little island. The exact purpose of these markings are a matter of conjecture, but it is more likely than not that they had a religious significance. Nearby, there is also a Iron Age burial site and, on the island itself, the tumbled remains of a later Pictish dun.

 


1It was my first outing this year, on 27th March, and I approached the occasion more as a matter of honour than as a serious attempt to remove a few fish from their natural habitat. The weather was cold, with a biting wind and I was less than confident of success. That morning, the only other anglers fishing were a pair of  goldeneye ducks, winter visitors, easily recognisable from the white patch between eye and bill.

After an hour, I was considering abandoning the task and heading home when, as is often the case, the first trout grabbed my middle fly, a March Brown. Thus encouraged I fished on and ended with three trout weighing 1lb 10oz.  The last fish took with a mighty rush, stripping line from the reel. Given that a large fish in Hakel is rarely over 1lb, I was convinced for a moment that I had hooked a sea-trout; the loch drains into the Kyle of Tongue and, although rarely caught, sea-trout are not unknown. When I beached the fish, however, I saw that it was trout of 8oz in weight.

This is one of the most significant characteristics of the fish in Loch Hakel.  Although they may be modest in size they fight splendidly and always give an excellent account of themselves. They are very pretty fish too, beautifully marked, perfectly shaped and almost golden in colour. The majority are pink fleshed and wonderful to eat. I took my fish home, cleaned them and cooked them in a frying pan with a little oil; which is when the cats, alerted by the smell, arrived to help me in my labours.

I have never been able to understand why some anglers don’t eat the fish they catch. For me, the point of going fishing is to be able to eat what I  catch. Otherwise, I could argue, what is the point of fishing -  is it just for the adrenalin rush you experience when you actually manage to hook a fish?  In my view eating the catch is as important as catching the fish.

I suppose it all depends upon what angling really means to you? Is it relaxation, sport, escapism, or is it an overwhelming compulsion to compete and show that you are top dog? Does it mean more and bigger fish, a bite every cast, getting value for money, or is it just a way to avoid cutting the grass, painting the spare room or doing the weekly shopping on a Saturday afternoon?2

The short answer is, of course, that few of us really know what compels us to go fishing. Perhaps components of all these feelings and contradictions lie embodied in the heart of every angler; not permanently, but as recurring bits and pieces of the nonsense that follows us throughout much of our fishing lives. Attitudes change, even angling attitudes. The aggressive youth bristling with club badges today is often the happy old codger of tomorrow,  pleased enough to out on river or loch and not too concerned about catching trout.

One day, when I was fishing Loch Hakel, I met two happy old codgers on the shore. I had watched them, earlier, in pouring rain and a strengthen breeze, fishing behind the small island. Later, I came across them after lunch, relaxing by the dying embers of their lochside fire. I stopped to talk as anglers do. They politely apologised for not being able to offer me a cup of tea, but generously proffered something stronger.

The sum total of their ages, one announced, was 150 years. They told me that they had been fishing companions since before I was born. Looking at them, I guessed that they were fishing before most present-day anglers had been born and I felt privileged to make their acquaintance. During our blether it became clear that they had fished throughout most of Scotland and that they had enjoyed every moment doing so.

I left them re-launching their boat and, from the hill, watched them row back up the loch in record time and turn into a drift. A few moments later I saw the tip of the bow rod bend into a fish, whilst the stern rod reeled in and reached for the landing net. Loch Hakel was being good to them. This wonderful loch has always been good to me and it is one of the most pleasant and dramatic places to fish in all of Scotland.

Bookings from Ben Loyal Hotel, tel: 01847 611216

 

Bruce Sandison is a writer and journalist and author of nine books, including the definite anglers' guide, 'The Rivers and Lochs of Scotland' which is being revised and updated prior to republishing.

He contributed to 'Trout & Salmon' for 25 years and was angling correspondent for 'The Scotsman' for 20 years. Sandison writes for the magazine 'Fly Fishing and Fly Tying' and provides a weekly angling column in the '
Aberdeen Press & Journal'.

His work, on angling, Scottish history and environmental subjects, has appeared in most UK national papers, including 'The Sunday Times', 'The Telegraph', 'The Daily Mail', 'The Herald', 'Private Eye', 'The Field' and in a number of USA publications.

Sandison has worked extensively on
BBC Radio. His series 'Tales of the Loch' ran for 5 years on Radio Scotland and was also broadcast on BBC Radio 4 and on BBC World Service. His series, 'The Sporting Gentleman's Gentleman' and his programme 'The River of a Thousand Tears', about Strathnaver, established his reputation as a broadcaster.

Sandison has had extensive coverage on television. He wrote and presented two series for the
BBC TV Landward programme and has given a number of interviews over the years on factory-forestry, peat extraction, wild fish conservation and fish farming.

Sandison is founding chairman of 'The Salmon Farm Protest Group', an organisation that campaigns for the removal of fish farms from Scottish coastal and freshwater lochs where disease and pollution from these farms is driving wild salmonid populations to extinction.

Bruce  won 'Feature Writer of the Year' in the
Highlands and Islands Press Awards in 2000 and in 2002, and was highly commended in 2005. Bruce lives near Tongue in Sutherland with his wife Ann.