A Perfectly Good Boat Of My Own
- Details
- Published on Monday, 06 August 2012 17:47
- Written by Bruce Sandison
When the Good Lord decided that His world needed a wash he advised Noah to start sawing cubits. He also instructed Noah to pass the word to The Macneil of Barra, warning him of the impending flood, and to keep a place in the Ark for The Macneil and his family.
Noah sent a messenger to Macneil telling him that a main deck cabin with all mod cons had been reserved for his use. Macneil responded with typical Gaelic courtesy, thanking Noah for the invitation, but assuring him that he had a perfectly good boat of his own.
I first visited the island at the end of a journey from the Butt of Lewis in the north to Barra in the south, whilst researching my book The Heather Isles. I arrived at Castlebay on the birth of a cold, misty, morning with dawn sunlight just beginning to slant over the grey shoulder of Heaval (1,256ft) and I instantly fell in love with Barra.
However, unlike Noah, my principal concern was not for Clan Macneil, but for Fred, the 8lb salmon I had caught the previous day on East Loch Ollay whilst fishing with John Kennedy, the South Uist Estate Fishery Manager. Fred lay in the ship’s galley, wrapped in a mountain of newspaper and I had to get him to his next resting-place quickly, the Castlebay Hotel freezer.
That task completed, I set off round the island in search of adventure, and hopefully, a successful encounter with some unsuspecting Barra wild brown trout to keep Fred company on his cold journey back to my home in Sutherland. My first call was on an old friend, Compton Mackenzie, who lies at rest in the graveyard at Cille Bharra.
Compton Mackenzie’s most famous book, Whisky Galore, was made into a film in which Mackenzie himself played a part. The subject of the book, the wreck of the SS Politician and the ‘liberation’ of a large part of its cargo of whisky by local people has an enduring fascination. Not so long ago a consortium was formed to ‘liberate’ anything else still trapped in the wreck. Sadly, this only produced about a dozen bottles.
Barra is stunningly beautiful, surrounded by emerald green seas, flecked with white-fringed, three-thousand-mile-old, blue Atlantic waves. The view from the summit of Heaval is breathtaking. Northwards, across the Sound of Barra and Eriskay, tower the mountains of South Uist, Beinn Mhor, Corodale and graceful Hecla. To the east, a distant prospect of Cullin on Skye and the Torridon peaks on mainland Scotland. South is dream-like carpet of small isles, Vatersay, Sandray, Pabbay and Mingulay.
Pleased with my day and all that I had seen I returned to Castlebay and, after dinner, had the good fortune to fall in with the secretary of the Barra Angling Club, then a local teacher. “How many members do you have?” I inquired. He paused, mentally counting, and, after a moment said, “About seven, I think, but then, of course, not all of them are as keen anglers as I am."
According to the Ordnance Survey Sheet No. 31 Barra appears to have few game fishing opportunities, and, I suppose, that is why so few people bother to visit Barra for an angling holiday. But the island has some quite outstanding trout fishing that would be difficult to better anywhere in Scotland. Also, it is the perfect location for a family holiday where the bucket-and-spade brigade will find white, empty beaches washed clean by the warm waters of the Gulf Stream.
Loch an Duin in the north of Barra is the local water supply and it contains hard-fighting wild brown trout which average eight ounces in weight, with the odd much larger fish, as well as occasional sea-trout. Ruleos, Loch nam Faoileann and Loch nic Ruaidhe, to the east, can all be fished in a day, making for a wonderful walk combined with great sport with bright little trout.
High on Heaval, below Beinn na Moine, is Cadha Mor, a magnificent place to fish and full of lovely trout that average half-a-pound. Visit Cadha as much for the view as for fishing. But the real ‘gem’ of Barra is Loch Tangusdale, also known as Loch St Clair, an easy walk down the hill from the road at Kinloch. If I were ever asked to design a trout loch, then it would probably look very much like Tangusdale; not too big, with both shallows and deeps, easy wading and shelter, and excellent feeding for fish.
Tangusdale has all this and more, being dominated by the ruins of a small castle perched on a tiny island by the south shore. I had been told that Tangusdale trout averaged 2lb in weight but had greeted this news with a certain degree of scepticism. After half an hour with neither sight nor sound of a fin, I was beginning to wonder if I was wasting my time.
I inched down the east shoreline, sometimes fishing from the bank, sometimes edging a few yards out, concentrating furiously. A golden eagle circled overhead. As I stared heavenward a trout grabbed with such force that it almost pulled the rod from my hand. I hung on grimly as the reel screamed in anger. The fish leapt spectacularly, a golden bar in afternoon sunlight.
Cautiously, I played him ever closer to the shore, and then, triumphantly beached the trout. The fish was dark in colour, with clearly defined, bright-red spots, deep-bodied, with a small head and in perfect condition. My prize weighed 2lb 12oz and it had given me some of the best angling moments of my life.
I walked over to Loch na Doirlinn, close to Halaman Bay. This is a weedy loch with barely enough weed-free space for half-a-dozen casts. It can produce trout of over 5lb in weight, but not for me. The following morning with my salmon and his new friend in the ferry freezer, whipped by the tail end of a mad hurricane but well content, we bucketed back across the Minch to Oban.
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.