Friday on Loch Lee

thumb_copyLast Thursday, with the chilly weather finally relenting and allowing the wind to swing around to some sort of westerly breeze after weeks of Easterlies, I decided that I’d gamble and book a boat on Loch Lee for the following day.  Not that much of a gamble – I did check the met office site for the next days forecast.

In the past I’ve arrived as early as possible, fished hard as long as possible and been pretty well spent by the afternoon’s end – so in view of that I decided this time to arrive a wee bit later and hopefully be less knackered by the evening, and so be able to fish maybe even on into the gloaming.

TimeForA_BrewIt’s a long time since I had any charr up there, and also wondered about fishing on ‘til later in the day might let some of these beautiful wee fish show up.
Next morning came soon enough but also saw me there with no drogue – and Lee being the place it is, a drogue isn’t a luxury – it can be a right wind tunnel of a place.  So fingers were firmly crossed that the breeze wouldn’t over-freshen as it’s done a fair few times in the past.  This time, it worked.  Even so, the drogue won’t be missed out next time…

WestwardHoThings started pretty slowly.  The top bay’s usually good to kick things off, even if the fish there are commonly on the small side they still hit the fly with a bang and get a wee bit adrenalin flowing, particularly if it’s your first day out; as it was for me.

This time nothing cooperated, although a few sooks and tugs at the fly showed there was some interest in what I was throwing at them.  I cannae be bothered with these buzzer things that seem to be so popular these days; I like simple wet fly fishing or sometimes (even simpler) shortlining and the first fly choices were a biggish Cinnamon and Gold on the point, a wee Dunkeld on the dropper, and a pretty gallus black Zulu on the bob.

As I’m a lazy bugger, I often fish a bob, two droppers and a point as it lets me fish a bigger variety of flies, cutting the need to change a bit.  Of course this means that the potential for fankles is greater!

The first fish to come to the boat was a wee charr – success!  The smallest I’ve ever seen, and back he went.  Duck broken.

Then a succession of wee broons hit the flies, only one to the Dunkeld so I changed it for a claret bumble.  If I were restricted to using one fly only up there, this would surely be on the short list.

It was nice to see a bit of a bend in the rod, and nicer to get a bit of a steady breeze taking me down the south bank, with hardly any need to adjust.  I’d left the electric motor and battery at home for the sake of simplicity and didn’t have much cause to regret its absence really as the breeze was uncharacteristically helpful for much of the day - along both north and south shores.

Nothing of any size was coming to the fly – by this time more or less evenly divided between the bob and the dropper, so I changed the point for a worm fly #14 just to see what happened.  It promptly took charr #2, a bit bigger than the first, but deeply hooked and bleeding; so it stayed with me. a_trout_in_the_hand

I’d bought this rod last year.  It’s a ten footer, a #4 with a lovely limber action that really is a pleasure to fish with.  For a backup I had a (very) old faithful Daiwa #6 cf98 with me too, but in the event it wasn’t used.  I like to fish on the top, where things are much more visual – I’ve never really enjoyed fishing a sunk line, although I’d happily concede that it often produces when the floater’s productivity has tailed off.  I just don’t get the same enjoyment from it, so the floater has to be pretty deid before I put out a sinking line.

This easy actioned light rod was just the tool for these fish.

One or two showers came along to freshen things up a bit, one in particular was a slow, gently developing process of oddly big splashy raindrops that had me scrambling into the waterproof breeks.

I had with me a new Airflo seat, bought the day before from Angler’s Choice in Dundee at a good price – which kept me from getting too hunched up in the boat and its extra height over the boat’s thwarts let my knees stay a bit less bent than they’d be if using the boat seats.  A good move, getting that.

As usual, I headed up to the East end of the loch for a late lunch, a peaceful seat and a few photos.  There had been a fair bit of heather burning going on and I took the chance to harvest some of the heather stems for future brew-ups with the kelly kettle – I like the smell of its smoke.

BeforeAndAfterAfter that I pushed off and half-heartedly fished the eastern basin for a wee while but was becalmed for too long with only a couple of wee fish coming to visit.  So back up to the western end it was for the next bit of my shift, only to pass the one other boat heading eastwards, who started up a drift over some of the deep water just off the southern shore.

Things picked up nicely for a couple of periods, with several much better fish being taken – between half and three quarters, mostly.  It was nice to see a better class of fish than the usual three to the pound variety.  No more charr though.  The fish were quite a mix of different colours, from buttery gold ones to some darker ones who didn’t look nearly as well mended as some of their mates.

Another break back at the boathouse for a bit left me wondering if I had the energy to go out again, and it was the certain knowledge that if I didn’t I’d regret it as I drove home along the loch side that forced my hand.  I force easy sometimes…

So back out it was, but the final evening act didn’t have much going for it really. Some more mostly smallish fish, some more rain, but with a rainbow thrown in free to set things on a colourful note, all served to show that Loch Lee had given me a day to remember.  Which is never a surprise really – sometimes it’s memorable for its good fishing, sometimes for the adverse weather, but even if it’s been less kind than it might’ve been it always pulls me back.

OverTheRainbowFor sheer beauty, grittiness and character, Loch Lee takes some beating.   It isn’t too wee so that you feel too close to other fishers, but nor is it so big that it makes you feel insignificant, like some of the big lochs such as Awe and Tay can do.  On occasion it can produce hefty lumps of trout as Mr Angus Keith could tell you (I’ve seen the photies) but the everyday fish are as fierce and strong as any I’ve had.

There may be more beautiful places but, right now, I can’t think of one.