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This site is called Game Fishing Diaries for a good reason. There is something about the ritual of keeping a fishing diary that fills a deep need in me. When I was young, I used to write up each fishing trip in an old Reporter’s notepad. It’s lost now, and how I wish I could find it. It could be in the attic in my mother’s house I suppose, but who knows where it went during the Great Clearances of Puberty. I got back into the swing of diary keeping again in 1994 with a small pocket version, but it wasn’t sufficient to record the details of the things that interested me when I was fishing and was more of a score sheet than a diary proper. I have now graduated to a generously proportioned, full A4 sized Fisherman’s Record Book. There are sections for date and place, water and weather conditions, the bag and a whole A4 page for “Reflections”. Luscious. After each day’s fishing, I retire to the cottage, have a substantial nightcap and write up the events of the day. Then I take a few moments to read the preceding entries and I may indulge in a little cheese or whatever savoury is to hand and wash it down with some good red wine or port. What could be more civilised? I suppose it’s exhibiting anorak tendencies, but I also love to dip into it from time to time during the close season and refresh my memory with what happened on such and such a day. My handwriting is appalling, but that’s all to the good as no-one else but me can decipher it and it therefore ensures privacy. I have been fishing for spring salmon for a fair number of years now and no one trip sticks out. They’re all different and there is no such thing as a typical week. So, in order to fulfil the need to cover this important annual event whilst weaving in the title of the book, I hit on this little wheeze. What follows is a verbatim copy of my spring fishing diary from 1994, warts and all, on the 1st of June each year (apart from 1997 when the 1st fell on a Sunday – there is still no Sunday fishing for migratory salmonids in Scotland). Each trip, to avoid repetition, is to the River Spey and that unmentionable stretch of the river. I don’t for a minute think that it will be required reading for literature students anytime soon, but it does give an insight into the variety of the fishing, the weather, the environment and most importantly, my state of mind in any one year. ______________________________________________________________________________ 1/6/1994. Weather : Cloudy and Warm Temp : 65 degrees air and 55 degrees water Tackle : Floating and intermediate flies and a variety of flies.
Fish : Nil
Remarks : Perfect conditions but no fish. Last day today of only a half week. Going to try to get a full week next year. Met a great guy called Alf Gaskell who really taught me how to Spey cast properly. He can’t half swear - but he’s a good teacher. Boring day when there is no fish and my companion left yesterday – but my pal George came up to fish the Association water at Grantown so at least I can have a few beers with him of an evening.
______________________________________________________________________________ 1/6/1995. Weather: Cloudy Temp : not recorded Tackle : Intermediate line and an Ally’s Shrimp fly Fish : 14lb 8 oz salmon
Remarks : Caught the fish from the high embankment above the burn at the ungodly hour of 6.00 am. The water is very deep in there and I was handlining back from a dead stop when I felt the fish. It was a beauty! I killed it and put it in the boot of the car. I eventually went down to the hut at 9.00 for a coffee and put the fish on the slab with some pride. It had become a bit discoloured in the boot and when X, (name witheld) saw it, he started laughing and making fun of the fact it was such an ugly brute. I don’t know why, but I was getting really annoyed with this asshole and his comments. It was my first fish of the week and I was kinda proud of it. Then another guy, Bill Day I think is his name, stepped in and told him to “leave it alone and congratulate the man” (i.e. me) as at least I was catching something. Funny lot these salmon fishers.
______________________________________________________________________________ 1/6/1996. Weather: Windy with lots of broken clouds Temp : Air 55 degrees and water 48 degrees Tackle: Floating line and a size 8 claret shrimp Fish: Salmon 11lbs Sea trout of 2lb, 2.5lbs and 1.5 lbs
Remarks: Started fishing again at 6.00pm in the evening after losing a salmon in the morning. Caught the salmon at around 7.30pm and swapped over to the trout rod as the sun went down at 10.00pm and fished through to 11.00pm The Sea trout were great fun tonight but it got really cold. It’s my last night tonight and I really should have stayed out, but enough is enough and with 6 salmon and 6 Sea trout for the week, it’s not been at all bad.
(Change to my new Fisherman’s Record Book from now on…) ______________________________________________________________________________ 2/6/1997. Water & Weather conditions: In the morning it was clear skies and scorching sun but with a cold upstream wind. By evening, cloud had come over and a steady drizzle fell. The water was warmer than the air and a mist rose from it. The level was -3” on the gauge.
The Bag: 9.5 lb Hen salmon
Reflections: Had a pull at around 5.00pm but I was watching Jamie throwing a tantrum and I missed the fish. I wanted to get back to the same spot but Jamie threw another tantrum in the cottage so I was late down to the river and Bill Day had beaten me to it. After Bill had landed his third fish from “my” spot, I was getting pretty depressed and was contemplating murdering Number 1 son for making me late! I had one pull on the dangle for my efforts. I gave up at 10.00pm and switched to my Sea trout rod. A couple of casts and I was into one but it came off at my feet. A couple of casts later and BANG I was into what I thought was another, but bigger, Sea trout. Twenty minutes later and I’m still fighting the fish. Managed to beach it at last and found that it took a size 12 Grouse and Claret on the dropper – there’s no understanding salmon. The fish had a bit of scar tissue on its head and back, but it was a cracker apart from that. First from the beat in ’97, and on a trout rod too… ______________________________________________________________________________ 1/6/1998. Water & Weather conditions: Rain, rain, rain, rain, rain, rain. Can’t say it enough. As well as the rain, it is freezing! Temperature not much above 6 degrees centigrade and the water is really cold. Wished I’d packed my neoprenes the minute I stepped into the pool and felt the cold through my rubber waders. Water at + 1ft 2” on the gauge.
The Bag: No salmon. A consolation Sea trout at 2.5lbs though at 11.30 p.m. above the burn.
Reflections: Hard to believe that this is a prime week in June. It’s actually colder than it was when I was here in February and there’s fewer fish around. I only saw three salmon all day. No-one caught a fish and Bill Day has been here for three weeks and has only caught one. It’s a really poor year so far. If the fish don’t pour in on this flood then they just aren’t there this year. I was well pleased to get the Sea trout and thought it was a small salmon the way it fought: head down and tugging. It had probably run hard and was tired. There seems to be more Sea trout than salmon this year; opposite of last year. Where are all the fish? This is June after all. ______________________________________________________________________________ 1/6/1999. Water & Weather conditions: Cloudy and mild. Air temp is 19 degrees C again. Water clear and +5” above the gauge. Water temperature rose now to 58 degrees F. Used a floater with a sink tip and then changed later to a full floater.
The Bag: 8lb salmon in the morning and lost a good one in the evening before landing one at 8.5lbs.
Reflections: Difficult morning. Pulled two but they wouldn’t stick. They’re not as committed as I’d like them to be so far, although there are loads of fish around. Caught the first just before lunch and the second just before Sea trout time. The fish I lost was a really strong fish. Didn’t see it but boy did it pull. Fought it for ten minutes before it threw the hook. In the morning, I saw a rabbit chase a stoat which had killed one of it’s young. Wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. I also wouldn’t have believed I could fish past the burn-mouth in the evening without connecting with at least one Sea trout, but that is exactly what happened. You spend all year praying for a perfect night like this, in just the right spot, balmy weather, no breeze, cloudy and plenty of flies. But no Sea trout. That’s fishing. Saw a barn owl hunting along the wood edge on my way back to the cottage. ______________________________________________________________________________ 1/6/2000.
Water & Weather conditions: River now at + 4” above the gauge and clear. Warm morning but at 1.00pm a cold front hit and it poured. Later it got windy, but it was perfect in the morning apart from one thing…
The Bag: …there are no fish! Reflections: What an awful week. Not a single salmon was landed on the whole beat today. They’ve done a bit better on the lower beat and we hear that fresh fish are being caught in Grantown and Nethy Bridge. But this beat is dead. It’s quite spooky really: all those classic pools devoid of any fish in this, a prime week. Had great company though and surprisingly, Buster (my cocker spaniel) is the star. Everybody loves the little Muppet and spoils him rotten. As for fish, I saw the odd one splashing but that was all. The wind is howling a gale outside the cottage now but hopefully it will calm down by tomorrow. ______________________________________________________________________________ 1/6/2001.
Water & Weather conditions: Cold wind, cloudy and torrential rain in the evening. Water level –1” on the gauge.
The Bag: Nil.
Reflections:
Rose one fish in the morning but it wouldn’t take. Getting really fed-up with “G” my fishing partner for this week: he’s started to refer to me as “the opposition” and he shows up at the river before I get down so that he can cover the pools first. Asshole. It’s nice to meet Tony Heywood and John Holmes again and John was lucky enough to get 2 fish today. It’s been a funny week with me getting three fish in quick succession on the first two days and now this - nothing doing hardly anywhere. The fish, when they come, just hammer through the pools and head upstream. They just don’t want to hold. The river will come up tonight with all this rain so maybe we’ll get a bonanza tomorrow. I can’t say how much I miss Jamie and Scott- they’re never out of my thoughts. I wish they could be here with me. ______________________________________________________________________________
So there you have it – spring on the Spey. I guess I could have gone through each week and picked out the best days, but then that would have been dishonest - you need to really get a sense of just what this sport can do to you, and to do that, you need to see it warts and all. When taken over all, my average number of fish in a spring week is 6; that’s one per day, and I can’t really complain about that in this day and age. Yet when I read it over in isolation like that, though, I could easily get depressed. Why on earth do I dedicate my free time to this activity when it seems so, well, futile? The answer is that I love it - pure and simple. I love all its frustrations and failures and I love it all the more because when it does all come together it is truly magical. The feel of a big spring fish with its long, slow, deliberate pull on the fly and then the energy and determination as it fights you is one of the ultimate thrills in game-fishing, easily equalling the excitement of a marlin strike. And when you have bested it, you can complete the pleasure by simply holding it in the water to let it recover, so that it can swim off to its own reproductive-destiny, perhaps a bit wiser, a bit less predatory and therefore hopefully less likely to be caught again. When put like that, it almost seems like a public service… |
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