Return To Sanday
- Details
- Published on Wednesday, 06 August 2008 13:00
- Written by Brian Tulloch
I have many fond childhood memories of summer holidays spent on Sanday, one of Orkney’s outer isles. My dad was born and brought up on the island and every year we travelled up from Livingston to visit my grandparents.
I suppose that for some kids two weeks on a remote island would have been their idea of a nightmare, but my brother and I were never bored. We were always up to something, enjoying that extra bit of freedom compared to down the road.
My dad would have a wee project on the go most summers to keep us amused, whether it was a model boat or a glider, perhaps. I remember one year the glider he had made for us flew so well that it didn’t come back! On another occasion we had a metal detector. My dad remembered where the army did their target practice during the war, and sure enough we unearthed various bullets and bits of the mangled up target. My granny’s dog Ricky (a cairn terrier) was always a source of amusement. Ricky’s main reason in life was to chase rabbits, usually unsuccessfully, but occasionally he got his trophy from the ditch running down the side of the road opposite the house. 
Another of his favourite rabbit hunting haunts was underneath an old boat down at the black rock shoreline. I was always warned not to allow him underneath the boat as he often refused to come back out unless he had a rabbit, which was never. Of course I did let him under the boat and after about an hour and a half of him yelping away one day I presumed that he was stuck. I ran back up to the house in a panic and told my folks what had happened, they weren’t too happy. When we got back down to the boat with a spade to dig him out, Ricky was wagging his tail contentedly on the beach whilst lapping up some sea water. As you can imagine there are no shortage of great beaches on Sanday, but for me the pick of the bunch has to be Tofts Ness, not only does it have great rock pools to explore but it is also the place to find grottie buckies - looking for those wee shells is quite addictive, and we spent many a happy hour searching for them.
The only fishing on the island back then was in the sea, and on occasion my dad would borrow his friend’s boat, I remember being kitted out with a spinning rod and trolling tobies, spoons or rubber eels out the back of the boat for cuithes. My mum reminded me recently of one of the rare occasions when she came out fishing and put my nose out of joint by catching the biggest fish of the day on a hand line, the cheek of it! Another form of fishing which I loved was spearing flounders. Down near the black rock shoreline, there are two pools remaining at low tide called the flounder pows (puddles) and it was possible to wade in them with shorts on, no luxuries like waders in those days. Armed with a homemade spear (there was always a few of these kicking about in my granddad’s workshop) the secret was to pull back likely clumps of sea weed in search of flounders in the sand. Often they would dart off, leaving a trail of sand behind them and it was a case of trying to sneak up on them and spear them as near to the head as possible, not as easy as it sounds, but great fun.
The lochs on the island back then were troutless, they looked inviting but my dad said the only fish likely to be in them would be eels. It wasn’t until the late eighties, I think, that stories started to circulate about a local farmer catching huge trout from Bea loch. Rumour has it that he was asked if he had caught any smaller fish as well as the monsters, his reply was that the holes in his net were quite big! So he didn’t know if there were any smaller trout in the loch. Bea , North and to a lesser extent Roos Loch are now famous for producing trophy trout, all thanks to the hard work of the Orkney Trout Fishing Association who stock the lochs with fry.
When my granny passed away, there was sadly no longer a reason to visit Sanday and around twenty years passed before I set foot on the island again. It was only for a short day trip with my family to show them around the sights, no time for any fishing, but great to reacquaint myself with the island and most places were much the same as I remembered them. It was nice to watch my kids playing on the same beaches as I had done. Probably the biggest difference between now and then is the lack of Orcadian folk on the island, but times change I guess.
It was more than just by coincidence that when we visited the island again for a couple of days this summer, that we hired a static caravan right across the road from North loch. This turned out to be an ideal base , my kids loved the novelty of staying in a caravan, with various farmyard animals running around outside and I could go out fishing in the mornings and evenings after doing family stuff during the day, which kept Ruth, my wife happy. I could even have a beer or two since I didn’t have to drive, heaven! All I had to do now was catch one of the legendary trout that inhabit the loch - easier said than done. I knew the fishing was going to be hard, and that it would be a case of trying not to think those “flogging a dead horse” thoughts. I ventured out in the float tube on the first evening, but soon realised that it was going to be more of a hindrance than a benefit due to the shallowness of the loch and quickly made the decision to wade instead. It’s possible to wade right out into the middle of North Loch working your way along the sand bars, casting into the darker water and hoping all the time for something big to grab hold. It was strange fishing away, and then turning around to find that you are standing in the middle of the loch! Three or four hours had past without a single offer. I was fishing with a two fly cast with a big Humoungous lure on the point and trying various traditionals in larger sizes on the dropper. It wasn’t until I put on a size eight Silver Invicta that a fish showed interest, swirling at the fly and feeling the hook in the process. It was very frustrating working so hard for a take and then not connecting properly. On most other lochs missing a trout is no big deal, but on this loch I knew my chances would be limited. That turned out to be the only offer of the evening, but never mind there was always tomorrow. I retired to the caravan and had a couple of beers to commiserate.
The next morning I got up around 6 AM, which wasn’t too difficult after a night in the five foot bed! The idea was that I could squeeze as much fishing time in before going out with the family for the day. I started working my way along the shoreline where I had the offer the night before and it didn’t take long before I missed another fish, curses rang out across the loch and another opportunity went a begging. As I continued to wade up the margins, the bottom changed from the soft silt underfoot to a stony bottom. This looked as good an area on the loch as I had come across and it was here that I finally connected properly with a North Loch trout. The fish didn’t hesitate to show itself in the shallow water before powering off. My heart was racing, thoughts had now changed from trying to hook a fish to worrying about losing one - it was a strange mix of emotions, excitement and panic. After a lengthy tussle I managed to beach the trout in the margins (guess who didn’t have a net). He was a good trout of around four pounds, the average size for the loch and was certainly in good condition. I couldn’t honestly tell you though that he was the most handsome beast I had ever landed, having a severely protruding lower jaw - he looked a bit like Jimmy Hill! I took two or three quick pictures and then watched him swim away through the shallows before disappearing with a flick of his tail and a snap of his jaw! I had fulfilled my ambition of catching a trout from Sanday and, I can tell you, it felt good. Over the course of two morning and two evening sessions I rose seven trout and landed two of them. The second fish was a perfect specimen of around 2lb 12 oz., from the same area as the first and again on the Silver Invicta. It had been hard fishing but extremely rewarding. The good thing is that Ruth and the kids enjoyed their visit to the island so much that they want to return next year for longer. I can’t wait as I still haven’t had a chance to fish either Bea or Roos Loch.
If your planning a fishing trip to Orkney it would be worth considering a trip over to Sanday if the weather is settled. It’s a beautiful island as much as anything else and, you never know, any one of the three lochs could send you home with the trout of a lifetime.
For information on fishing in Orkney www.orkneytroutfishing.co.uk
For accommodation on Sanday www.sandayorkney.co.uk/staySC.php
For Ferry information to Sanday www.orkneyferries.co.uk
Brian Tulloch lives in Kirkliston near Edinburgh with his wife Ruth, daughter Megan and son Jamie. Brian works for a gardening contractor firm. He fishes mainly for brown trout on rivers and lochs, but also enjoys fishing for grayling and pike. Brian's favourite place is Dunalistair water, the home of both big trout and huge pike.