Teach them fly fishing and stay sane
- Details
- Published on Monday, 27 November 2006 17:32
- Written by Bruce Sandison
Having children seriously damaged my fishing health. Not that I had them, physically, of course – my wife, Ann, bore that burden – but the patter of tiny feet certainly altered our angling attitudes. Dashing river-wards at the drop of a Greenwell’s Glory or the first whisper of a soft south-west wind was not as simple as it was in childless days of yore.
So we taught them fly-fishing. It seemed to be the obvious thing to do. Our brood, four in number, grew up brainwashed into the belief that angling was an integral part of existence; as natural an aspect of living as breathing, walking, talking, squabbling and nicking father’s fishing gear.
Unfortunately, however, everything had to be multiplied by six, rather than by two: rods, reels, lines, flies, waders, fishing bags and landing nets. A single-bedroom, inexpensive holiday cottage for two became a small mansion – they invariably ‘needed’ to take a friend – and the Clan Sandison bank balance suffered dreadfully in consequence.
Whilst Ann spent her time feeding the hoard, glued to sink and cooker rather than to a fishing rod, I became a mechanical cast-tying machine and galley slave; referee, instructor, retriever of lost oars, abandoned boats and “Dad I left my camera at the mooring bay and will you get it for me because I don’t know the way”. It was good training. As a result I can still tie a full blood-knot, blindfold, behind my back, in half a minute.
In many ways, however, it was more fun. In spite of what I may pretend, I wouldn’t change it, not for all the trout and salmon in the world, regardless of size. These times were precious, unforgettable, irreplaceable moments of supreme joy. I remember the ones that got away and the few that didn’t. I remember tears and laughter. I remember them catching their first fish. Happy memories in the dream bank of the mind.
Many families must face similar problems today; not only of funding a family fishing expedition, but also of finding a suitable location where good sport may be had without breaking the bank balance in the process. Providing something for every member of your party, beginner and expert alike requires careful planning if the holiday is not to end in disaster.
Hotels control a good deal of Scottish fishing but not everyone can afford present-day hotel prices, least of all when it might require a mini bus to transport your tribe to the scene of the action. Equally, the regimen imposed by some angling hotels is not conducive to the exuberance of burgeoning youth, or, indeed, to the sanity of other guests.
Therefore, self-catering is often the best option. Come and go as you please, eat, sleep, fish, fight and play to suit yourself in the privacy of your own abode. Given some persuasion and organisation, cooking and interior economy tasks can be fairly apportioned to ensure leisure and pleasure for all – the best of both worlds, with plenty of time to fish.
Finding such a location is not as difficult as you might imagine, least of all in the north of Scotland. The far north is one of the most welcoming and exciting angling locations on planet Earth. Fly-fishers will find outstanding sport with wonderful wild brown trout and the chance of an occasional salmon or sea-trout. Nor will you need a second mortgage to pay for it. Value for money angling abounds.
Caithness comes high on my list of venues, particularly with regard to loch fishing for brown trout. Sport with sea-trout is available on Loch of Wester, excellent in September and October, as well as good salmon fishing in the Wick River, given decent water levels. During a week’s holiday, concentrate your efforts on Loch Watten, St John’s Loch, Loch Heilen and Loch Calder. For a day out in the hills, try Loch Ruard, a forty minute walk west from Achavanich on the A9 Latheron/Thurso road.
Apart from Loch Calder, most Caithness lochs are shallow. Watten has an average depth of 8ft, Heilen 4ft. These waters are lime rich and contain magnificent brown trout. St John’s, approximately 170 acres in extent, is perhaps the busiest, particularly in June when there is a mayfly hatch. Watten, which is more than 3 miles long, has plenty of room for all.
Because these lochs are shallow, fish with confidence, from the margins to the middle. Although everyone has their favourite drift, the truth is that trout rise and may be taken everywhere. My personal pleasure on Loch Watten is to fish out of Factor’s Bay, off the fence that runs down to the shore here on the north bank, then in the vicinity of the small island. But the largest trout I ever landed was caught near Oldhall, at the north end, a couple of yards out from the shore.
Loch Calder, the Caithness water supply, is over 100ft deep at the north end. Trout here are ‘traditional’ Highland fish, generally small, averaging perhaps 8oz in weight, and there are Arctic charr as well. Calder can be seriously wild. You must use an outboard when boat fishing. The bank shelves quickly into deeper water in many places, so be careful when landing. With the bow on the shore, I once stepped out of the stern into 6ft of water. Beware when bank fishing. Fluctuating water levels have created soft margins.
However, I am pretty sure that Calder contains some huge fish, including that aquatic ‘wolf’ from the Ice Age, ferox trout. Ferox feed primarily on Arctic char and can grown to more than 20lb in weight in the space of a few years. If you are looking for that elusive ‘one for the glass case’, you could find it in Loch Calder. To do so, use the old Scottish fishing method of trolling a lure or bait behind a slowly moving boat. Fish it deep, down to 30ft. Crossing the fingers will probably help as well.
To help you find your dream cottage, contact the local tourist board (Tel: 01955 602596) for their accommodation register. To find the fishing of your dreams, contact Hugo Ross, ‘Mr Caithness Angling’ (Tel: 01955 604200). There are few finer places to introduce little ones to fly-fishing than Caithness. I speak from extensive personal experience, times four.
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 Sandison 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.