The Dangers of Salmon Fishing
- Details
- Published on Saturday, 21 November 2009 14:34
- Written by Graham Walker
Graham Walker’s Great Day on the Tay
Thanks have to be given in the first place to Sandy Cuthbertson for introducing me to fishing and to John McElroy, my friend, neighbour and fishing guru who has stuck with me even when my casting has been woeful.
John has a cruel streak as wide as the Clyde. He demonstrated this on an early fishing trip when I "went for a swim", in my waders.
I was attempting to fish Murthly 2 on the Tay along with John and some of his friends. Satisfied that I had a rough idea of what to do, the ghillie positioned me 30 yards downstream of the fishing hut as he drove off to dispatch the other fishers far and wide. My casting was pretty poor but I was desperately close to a rising salmon that was just out of reach of my pathetic 12 yard cast! I pressed closer and closer to the creature hoping to mug it with some Glasgow guile but as it jumped for a final time that day my foot slipped off a large rock, the waders filled and I started to bob around in deep and surprisingly fast water.
So this was what they meant, when they said fishing could be dangerous. Of course I had been wise enough to buy a life jacket as John had suggested, after all he had warned me of the dangers of this particular beat. Unfortunately I hadn't been wise enough to put it on.
My fear was only just eclipsed by my embarrassment. What an ARSE! I could see the headlines, "Glasgow Lawyer, Drowns on First Fishing Trip!" Being in such a competitive profession is probably what kept me alive; I had to survive, just to save face. If only I could escape the grasp of the Tay, perhaps no one would ever know. Somehow I managed to punt my sinking wader craft to the nearby bank where I hauled my weary behind up the steep (and nettle covered) embankment. Not only did I regain my sunny disposition but I realised what a wonderful sunny summer day we were enjoying. Yes, as Frank Capra understood, it's a wonderful life.
Cheered at my new lease of life and freshly developed skills as a wading stick pole vaulter, I stripped off to the bare scuddy, laid out what clothes I had, to dry in the morning sun and sat myself down with a freshly brewed coffee. As I watched the light glinting off the river and listened to the birds sing, as if for the first time, I heard the dulcet tones of a concerned ghillie as he returned to base with a cry of, 'What the fuck happened to you?' I felt this was really a rhetorical question but seemed obliged to make up some pitiful excuse about slipping and taking in a little water.
Soon my fishing buddy would be back, he would understand, he would console and encourage me not to be put off, wouldn't he? John arrived back fishless and forlorn but cheered to see his fat fishing mate lounging around the embankment with little other than a smile and the sunshine to keep him warm.
Being the cool type, John didn't draw attention to the fact that I was the only one of our party who was naked, but after we had all settled with another coffee he casually asked if I had any spare clothes with me.
I assumed my naked torso must have been putting him off his Abernethy's so I pulled on my wet and rather baggy underpants and explained with all the decorum I could muster that this was yet another piece of his advice that I had failed to follow. 'Not to worry', he said, ''I will drive you into Perth at the end of the day's fishing and buy you some clobber. Meanwhile you can have my spare T-shirt'.
I sat damp and chastened in his top of the range, leather-seated Mercedes as we sped off on our clothes mission. As we approached Perth, John's eyes widened as he noticed a "George at ASDA". 'Just the thing,' he said, 'inexpensive yet still fashionable, just the thing for our emergency'.
"A true friend", I thought as he walked across the car park, leaving me anxious that no one got close enough to his top of the range car to see my bottom of the range state of dress. Appearing at Perth Sheriff court on a lewd and lib charge had not been in the plan for today's outing.
John arrived back soon with a large self satisfied grin. A look on his face that says he has rescued the day for a buddy in trouble. At least that was what I thought, until he revealed that, "all I could get in your size", was a pair of knee-length surfing pants and red socks.
Now, a green Che Guevara T-shirt, blue and white surf pants and reds socks may look good individually. I hazard a guess that they could even look good on a 14 year old skate boarder but believe me on a 6ft 2 inch, tubby 48 year old Glaswegian male, the look does not work. I realised this immediately, and this was soon confirmed as I stepped out of the car for a quick fish and chips in the Bridge-of-Allan Cafe.
Howls of laughter went up from a group of teenagers who were passing. I am sure that McElroy had sent a text to the townspeople of Bridge of Allan to come out and see what he was bringing to town! Still high on life I sat down to an excellent fish and chips in Bridge-of-Allan cafe. The well mannered staff did not utter one snigger, as I wolfed down my dinner.
Do I wear a life jacket now? Well sometimes, but I certainly always consider it.
Do I carry a dry set of clothes? Damn right I do, and they do not include any surfing apparel.
Did I have a great day? Undoubtedly one of my best days "fishing" yet.
Graham Walker is solicitor from Glasgow who specialises in road traffic law. His passion for the outdoors comes from every summer holiday, as a boy, being spent on the hills and on the rivers around Huntley in Aberdeenshire (The Deveron, and the Bogey) Nowadays he travels all over Scotland representing people in connection with road traffic law cases. Usually he carries a "Hardy" smuggler and his "Hardy Gem reel" in the boot and whenever possible he tries to get out for a day on a river. With two young children in his family he finds their priorities of School, Brownies, Guides, Swimming, Choir Practise, Sunday School, Violin Lessons, Birthday Parties, sometimes get in the way of his casting! Fortunately he has run into many of Scotland's greatest fly casters along the way and been blessed with their perpetual patience and understanding as they try to teach him something about Spey casting.