Well, we’re into our third instalment of our blog and hopefully people are getting a bit of enjoyment from reading it. So here goes.

Last week was for me a bit of a holiday in some ways, I had a fishing client and so my time was spent on the riverbank, rather than in a taxi. (My favourite place. Only joking darling wife. ) Coomball was covering the taxi work, whilst I did the ghillieing. So glad he’s helping out. Our week started when we arrived on Monday morning at the river to hear that this years Salmon run was late, and few fish by comparison to a normal season were being seen or caught. Not what you want to hear on your arrival. However, with the usual levels of excitement we set up our rods whilst watching the water for fish showing, and deliberated over what flies should be tied on to tempt a silver tourist. I advised my guest to go with something small, a size 12, or 14 double seemed the way to go, with low water, and hot weather it’s always a good starting selection, I tied on a size 12 Silver Stoat varient for him, and a size 14 Executioner for myself. We then headed off over the damn and down the river to examine the pools a little more closely. The river, considering it was low looked really good, all the cold water algae which had made fishing almost impossible in May was gone, and my spirits and that of my guest were high. I knew this being our first day, and my client only wishing to put in a half day to ease himself into the week gently, that our chances of a fish were slim, but I set him up to fish down the first pool, and gave him a little advice on how to fish it.

The neck of the pool was narrow and fast flowing and then the pool opened out into a long glide. It just looked so fishy. (from here on I’m to refer to our client as “S”) S started with a short cast just incase there was a fish or two sitting high up in the pool and slowly lengthened his line until he had a good 20meters of out, he then started fishing down the pool. I stood back occasionally giving a little advice and waited in the hope of seeing his line tighten into a fish, but no, nothing doing. We carried on down the river assessing the pools and giving them a good go. We fished hard until about 14.00, covering a number of very fishy looking pools without even seeing a fish. S then decided he’d had enough for his first day and we slowly made our way back upstream and across the damn to our car. On the walk back to the car I was becoming acutely aware that this could be a slow week if fish did not start arriving, and keeping S motivated could be an issue. There’s probably nothing worse than arriving at a beat for a long fantisised about weeks fishing to be told there are very few fish around. Historically July will see the arrival good runs of grilse (fish that have spent one winter at sea)and great sport. This year for some unknown reason they just hadn’t arrived yet, so the drive back to S’s cottage was a bit subdued.

Tomorrow would be another day, and we were still as keen as mustard. Tuesday Morning arrived and we were reinvigorated, we started a little earlier, 07.00 to avoid the bright sunshine of later in the morning just to try to increase our chances. As S got started again on a small silver stoat I sat back watching the pool for signs of the Silver tourists. There was a mist hanging over the water which gave the scene a magical look, insects were flitting across the water and occasionally one would land on the surface and be immediately engulfed by a hungry brown trout. Shame we were not trout fishing, these hungry trout would have been easy pickings.

As I sat watching the scene S shouted to me to go and have a quick cast in the tail of the pool, I asked if he was sure, as salmon moving upstream during the night will often sit right on the lip of a pool when they arrive, and this was a good opportunity for him to catch. He insisted, and I moved down the bank and slowly waded out to a position where I could cover the water under the overhanging trees of the far bank. This wouldallow my fly to swing round across the tail of the pool. (it’s all about the angle og the dangle) As always I started with a short line just incase a fish was laying close to this bank, and gradually increased the length until my fly was landing right under the far bank, I let it settle and then made a slow retrieve trying to entice a take, after about my 20th cast I saw the tell tale flash of silver under water behind my line, the line instantly began to straighten. I lifted my rod. Up went the cry “Fish On” This was a very angry fish, it tore off up the pool turned and headed straight at me, winding as fast as I could and moving backwards to try and stay in contact was not easy, the river bed was strewn with big boulders and just keeping my feet was hard enough without having to worry about keeping my line tight, suddenly/thankfully the fish turned, and headed into deep water where the violent headshaking began, this was an opportunity to shout to S and suggest he bring the net.

He was already running towards the net having witnessed me hooking the fish. The fish then settled into a pattern of short runs upstream and then me bringing it back towards the shallower, slower water, after a few minutes of this I could see it was tiring and as S had just arrived at my side I advised him to place the net in the water and I would slide the fish over the net for him to then lift. I didn’t want any grave digging attempts. (an easy mistake to make which usually ends in a lost fish) S did a superb job and a perfectly formed little grilse was in the net. First time S had ever netted someone else’s fish and he was overjoyed at having assisted. The size 14 Executioner was then removed, a picture taken and the fish quickly returned to the water where I held it head into the stream to allow it to recover. 

After about 3 or 4 minutes it was recovering well and with a big swipe of its tail it swam off fast into the deep water to carry on its journey. S and I shook hands congratulating each other on the parts we played in the fishes capture. It felt great to have got our week started, and spirits high we fished hard all day, sadly without even seeing another fish. The trials of salmon fishing. The rest of our week was sadly uneventful, we tried everything, 04.00 starts, every fly, and every method of fishing a fly, but to no avail. Our only compensation was that nobody else on the river was catching. So it wasn’t us..

On the Friday my cousins Kenny and Crawford from Aberfeldy joined me as S was having a day off to spend with family.

It was great catching up with them. We were soon on the riverbank, and after a few tips and advice, Kenny’s casting had improved to the point that he was continually catching the trees on the far bank. Which he strangely seemed very excited about. It will I’m sure stand him in good stead on the Tay They too failed to catch, and the only fish we saw that day was in a cardboard box at the Real Food Cafe in Tyndrum on our way home. ( the fish and chips was excellent I’d recommend it) The week finished all too quickly and with too few fish. But that’s fishing for you. On the upside I made new friend and we are already planning our next sojourn for salmon. On the taxi front, it was a long week for Coomball, having to cover everything on his own was exhausting, being on call 24/7 is not for the feint of heart. But as expected he did an excellent job keeping our clients happy and even getting some 5 Star reviews.