On The Hunt for Harris Trout, fell in love with Harris Sea Trout

I never expected this article to be one of the hardest to write, this the fourth rewrite and it has got no easier! The problem is I just don’t feel like I can do the Island of Harris justice, certainly not without sounding gushing and clichéd…it really was that good a trip! To what is truly one of the most beautiful locations Scotland has to offer, look I’ve started with the gushing already! So maybe I should apologize now for the clichés and moments of gushing that are inevitable in trying to describe Harris, the welcome and the fishing.
Its almost 20 years since my last visit to these Islands of Scotland’s western frontier, I was but a chubby school boy with a tent, a good friend and a couple of fly rods. The trip had been great but we were beaten by glorious blue skies, sunshine and the worst sunburn I’ve ever had. The midges rose as the baking August sun set every night, so we turned tail and made for the ferry having only sipped from the over full glass of fine hill lochs and fishing that Harris has to offer, with literally hundreds of lochs most filled with hard fighting wild brown trout and many with sea-trout and the occasional salmon it a fly-fishers paradise.


I had always said that I would return to Harris but had lacked any real commitment ’til last summer when I discovered a tweet by Gail Tunnah who runs Finsbay Fishing’s. What sealed the deal was the January morning that the brochure for the fishing’s and their holiday cottages landed on the door mat, a cold January morning spent leafing through it dreaming of wild brownies, it had me hooked! It was all just a matter of finding the time so when the opportunity arose and ten days became free in my diary at the start of June I began planning an adventure and immediately Harris came to mind. Spending a few day pouring over maps and noting how accessible the lochs and fishing’s were, I had the hair brained notion that this adventure would be on foot. I am happy to admit that having once been a keen mountaineer I have softened with age and wisdom and enjoy the comforts of a nice hotel and clean bed after a day or nights fishing.  But I was feeling bold for this trip. Maybe it was a reniessounce, a reliving of younger days. Exploring on foot just seemed the best way to immerses myself in the plentiful and accessible fishing plus the public transport links on and to Harris really are very good, putting many on the mainland to shame. So I packed the rucksack with a lightweight one man tent, sleeping bag, stove and freeze dried meals, lightweight is ………well a figurative term because once you have packed every thing you need to survive for seven days without visiting a shop it weights alot more than you would imagine, nearly 14kg. The fly-fishing tackle the cherry on top.

With space and weight at a premium I opted to take only 1 rod and reel and a fairly lightweight set up

• Greys/Hardy 9’6 Streanflex Plus 5wt Rod

• Hardy LHR Reel & Spare spool

• Cortland Platinum Precision WTF Floating line

• Cortland Precision WTF 15’ Ghost tip

The 1st of June saw me heading westwards by bus from Aberdeenshire to Uig the ferry port in Northern Skye and the link to Tarbert on Harris. As we drew ever nearer Skye the clouds cleared and from horizon to horizon pale blue sky and warm early summer sunshine, little did I know then that this perfect beach weather was to follow me from the day I arrived on the island till the very hour I climbed on the ferry and sailed south for North Uist seven days later. The weather was almost identical to 20 years earlier, had I stumbled on a well-kept secret about Harris? That from May till September these Isles where bathed in Mediteraining sunshine? Alas apparently that’s not the case and by pure luck Mother Nature was playing a cruel joke on this hapless fisher.

Harris is one of the chain of Islands that make up the Western Isles, and are the first real land fall for the worst that the Northern Atlantic weather systems can throw. Really I shouldn’t complain I should shut up and make the most of the stunning weather but as an A-typical fly-fisher much like the stereotypical farmer; one is never happy with the weather.


I was heading for the Finsbay Fishings (http://finsbaycottages.co.uk) a group of over a 100 lochs divided into 3 areas, Stockinish; the northern group of lochs, Flodabay the middle group of lochs and Finsbay the southern group comprising of nearly 50 lochs. With boats on 20 of the 100 lochs and fantastic sea pools the fishing can be as diverse as you want from classic highland boat drifts to a day exploring hill loch on foot, some not much bigger than a bathtub but still containing wild brownies.  Some of the Finsbay fishings lochs have produced some real lunkers; brownies over 11lb and sea trout over 14lb. So you never know your first or your last cast may produce a beautifully marked hard fighting fish of a lifetime but aside from the monsters there are plenty of free rising hard fighting brownies that inhabit these lochs.

Over every rise and in every hollow there seemed to be a loch, it’s a smorgus board of choice, you could spend a life time exploring these lochs and still not fish them all. I began my adventure on the stockanish lochs. Having got the permits at the crack of dawn, I had my tent pitched by lunch time and was off with rod in hand exploring loch Creebhat and loch Glumradh Mor, managing to produce a couple of fish from shady nooks but I was fast discovery what was to be my nemesis for the duration of the trip. The bright warm sunshine putting paid to anything but morning and late evening fishing, which could be exploited by camping,  able to move from loch to loch and only have a short distance to stumble from sleeping bag to bank or boat. Every night as the sun set an hour or two of a rise would ensued, producing a few fish to the traditional highland wets.

I soon moved south loaded like a pack mule, walking the coast road I soaked in the stunning scenery that was putting on a real show in the beaming June sunshine, I was heading south for Finsbay, a group of 50 lochs and sea pools. Alistair Mackinnon the Ghillie found me slouched, parr boiled by the roadside south of foldaway and took pity on me offering me a lift and a quick tour of some of the lochs and sea pool, local knowledge truly is invaluable especially in trying conditions. Setting up camp in the ruins of an old fishing lodge; 2min walk from the sea pools and 5mins from the hill lochs this was to be home for the next  four days with views eastwards over Skye and the jagged teeth of the Cullin Ridge. I could have stayed there forever, perched on the rocks above Loch Fhionnsabaigh (Gaelic for Finsbay) the pale blue sky above and the shimmering Turquoise waters of the Minch below its hard to describe other than Stunning

Over dinner I sat watching the tide surge into the sea pools creping ever higher from one pool to the next and with it sea trout, topping and showing tantalizing splashes drawing you to the water like the sirens song. I set up a cast with just a single dropper about 6-7ft back from the point fly I opted for a classic sz12 teal and blue on point and a size 12 Claret Bumble on the dropper. As the tide peaked I began sending out casts landing the fly tight to the rocks across the pool, giving them to the count of 8 to sink and then a fairly fast retrieve. It produced instant results Bang! a 1.5lb sea trout takes me on a trip up and down the pool fighting me for every inch of line as I retrieve it to the net and then almost every second cast produces a take providing a very enjoyable hour of sport over the tide turning.

The finnock and sea trout hitting the flies hard and fighting like monsters, the sort of sport that you can often only dream of, double hook ups, loosing as many as you land in a frantic hour of mesmerizing fun. Nothing over 1.5lbs but that didn’t matter as they felt like monsters on the 5wt 9.6ft rod, almost pulling it from your hand and as the sun began kissing the hills to the West the action tailed off and I returned to my tent buzzing. I had landed more sea trout in that frenetic hour than I had seen in the previous four seasons.

I will admit I favour Brown Trout fishing over all other but Harris sea trout had hooked me and three of the next four days I spent on the hunt for Harris Sea Trout. The tides played ball with high tide arriving between 6 and 10 pm and allowing some great sport to while away my evenings producing; finnock, sea trout, slob trout and much to my surprise Pollock. A 1lb seat trout on the point fly and half pound Pollock on the dropper every cast a surprise.

I hadn’t forgotten about the bars of gold I had come in search of, venturing out in the mornings exploring the nearby lochs of Holmasaig, Dempster and Humabhat all of which lie on the same system as the sea pools of my first nights fun. Saturday morning I wasn’t feeling too optimistic, the the warm morning sun seemed already high in the sky as I stumbled over heather and peat hag before 7am making my way round the east bank of Dempster but the sound of fish freely rising around the reeds and margins greets me, a real surprise! The lochs where showing the effects of nearly a months warm and very dry weather and I was worrieed that in these kind of conditions the fish had become stressed with lower water levels and reduced oxygen levels, switching off from feeding and had disappeared into deeper waters. However it appears Harris trout are made of sterner stuff ; oblivious to the bright sunshine even with the clear lightly peated water giving little protection, they were feeding on the surface!

A dry fly fishers dream I opt for a light cast of about 2.4lbs and a single fly to reduce any drag. I throw on a fly I tie at size  16; Quill and elk hair midge on a light Grub hook which sits right in and through the surface film, mimicking the large midge that were occasionally hatching and the main attention of the rising trout. Making a long cast I let the wind drift the fly over the rising fish, a breathless wait willing a take soon rewarded with a strong splashy hit, striking as much out of instinct as a reaction in fright at the sudden splashy. A quick reaction imperative as these wild beauties discard the fly as quickly as they strike. An hour and a half of brilliant surface action, having to replace the fly several time as the vicious takes soon took their toll on the small flies, these the tattered reminants in the fly patch serve a a reminder of some fantastic sport.

I would have loved to fish from dawn till dusk but the glorius weather put paid to that, but when it did allow the sport was spectactular, exciting and varied. I honestly cannot express how much I enjoy my time on the island and the rugged beauty of Harris,  a landscape that can make you feel like the only person alive. The people are warm, friendly and welcoming. And of course the great fishing, Harris has it in bucket fulls! You could write and article about everyday and every loch each would be quite a different story.  I wanted to give you a taste, but the only way to truely experince it is to go!

I was genuinely sad the morning I packed up and headed for Leverburgh and on to North Uist, Harris has a lot more fishing  to offer and I guarantee it will not be another 20 years till I next wet a fly on Harris. I can’t thank Gail Tunnah who runs Finsbay, and Alistair Mackinnon the Ghillie enough for the friendly welcome and all the help, I hope to see you all again soon.

I strongely recommend that you plan a fishing trip soon to Harris the transport links are good, the people are welcoming, the fishing is world class. And I think that the sun is always shining………

Useful Links;

Ferry times and Bookings;  https://www.calmac.co.uk/

Finsbay
Fishings; http://www.finsbaycottages.co.uk/uk/

Buses times and Booking; http://www.citylink.co.uk/

Scotrail; https://www.scotrail.co.uk/

Harris bus timetable; http://www.cne-siar.gov.uk/travel/busservice/current/indexlh.asp

Brown Trout Virgin

I have fished since I was a little more than 5 years old, and I remember that first brown trout I caught with my father, it started an addiction with wild trout that still burns bright if not brighter now than every. It’s a sport were you never stop learning, which I find hugely satisfying. Also provides me with reason to explore and loose myself in the wondrously beautiful locations that Scotland offers, these factors drive me on a daily bases to be out on the Rivers and Lochs of Scotland. The enjoyment and inspiration I gain from fishing in these locations compelled me to try and express, capture a memento, a fragment of the exhilarating locations and the fishing in a hope to inspire, to take every reader regardless of whether they are fly fishers or not on a journey!

Morning sunlight waking up the Deveron Valley, looking Eastwards Fly fishing offers early morning starts

Morning sunlight waking up the Deveron Valley, looking Eastwards Fly fishing offers early morning starts

To take you the reader on a journey, on an adventure, to immerse you in the moment. To immerse you in the landscape, the excitement and the challenge. Above all to give a taste of Scotland’s wondrous natural wild beauty. When I am not on an adventure fishing or writing about it, I occasional guide taking clients on a physical adventure in the search for beautiful wild brownies, in stunning locations. Fly-fishing for Brown Trout became the driving force in starting writing and guiding, it allowed a move to a more rural centric existence, having built a home in a beautiful Aberdeenshire location. It became more and more difficult to leave for weeks on end to spend endless days in a steel box on 2 acres of steel hundreds of miles offshore. I love being a geologist but I love being a fly fisher far more. Fly fishing becomes an addiction and a release from the day to day, its more than a hobby or a sport, it allow you to immerse yourself in a challenge and the wilds; wading, walking and drifting through Scotland’s wild beauty. I am sure many fishers will agree with my gushing’s! As I’ve said fly fishing is a constant learning experience and many fishers love to share their skills and knowledge, but maybe not their favourite fishing spots! The eagerness to share comes from a love the sport that endears and many grew up or started in the sport learning from others with that same passion. I owe a lot of my single handed cast to a water bailiff on River Ness town water.  When I was 14 he took the time to help me maybe not perfect my cast (I am always learning and improving it) but at least proficient at it, to the point I wasn’t quite such a danger to others.

Cracking Isla Browning The reasons we Fish.

Cracking Isla Browning The reason we fish.

7lb Trout Dwarfing the reel, returned shortly afterward tone caught another day

7lb Trout, monsters like this to Wee Brownie fuels the wild brown trout addiction

I wanted to pass on my skills, knowledge and endless love of the sport to others and even some of favoured fly wetting spots. There is an incredible amount of joy to be taken from putting a fly fisher in the right position on a river or loch and helping them to the catch wild fish. Their excitement and enjoyment is as infectious as having a fish on the end of your own line.  And a recent client epitomised this; Phil, a neighbour new to the area, an experienced rainbow basher (which we can forgive) had taken casting lessons a couple of years earlier and was quite proficient, all he lacked was the confidence and the hours; what do I mean by hours? I mean the time out on the water gaining knowledge and experience which ultimately feeds confidence and only comes with “hours.”  An active outdoors man and gun dog trainer he was desperate to go out in search of proper wild fish, in a wild settings rather than manicured grass and flabby farmed fish. His eagerness and enthusiasm was contagious and almost like a teenager he was eager to pop his Brown Trout cherry.

The Isla produces even on the Sunniest of june afternoons

The Isla produces even on the Sunniest of June afternoons

The reality and the challenge of wild trout fishing can be hard to get across to the rainbow initiated. I think the illusion fishery fishing generates of every fish over 2lb ultimately disappoints the wild brownie novice when they actually experience wild fishing, because a 2lb wild brownie is a good fish and you don’t see them on end of every cast. I think this disparity stops many Bow Bashers returning or at least fishing for wild trout regularly; there is also the knowledge of where to fish, where to purchase permits and the daunting potential cost. And many people find it a bewildering morass of rules and have heard urban legions about fishing laws and rules all souring their willingness to experience wild trout fishing, that’s where a guide comes in to their own, we can put you on the fish and navigate rules, permits and locations.

Silhouetted against a June Sunset

Silhouetted against a June sunset

Sadly Phil’s foray into the world of Brown Trout didn’t start well as the weather played havoc through May and it was early June before we ventured out on to the rivers of the Deveron catchment, Phil’s new local playground. I decided that the Isla would be our first foray in to wild trout for Phill and a glorious June evening offered us a light wind from the South West, high broken cloud damping the bright June sunshine as it dipped westwards behind the hills of Balloch wood. A quick cast with a dry on the first pool we reached but up and down the river little seemed to be moving and nothing showed, even though there was considerable fly life about, with a steady hatch of midge and a few march browns and other Upwings lifting from the surface. These first cast where more of an opportunity to watch Phil’s cast than anything else. He was breaking his wrist, a habit so many fly fishers have and I have to admit I have suffered from at times so I knew the best way to deal with this. I removed my wader belt and wrap it around Phil’s wrist, anchoring the butt of his rod to his arm behind his wrist, preventing him breaking it and requiring him to cast with his whole arm.  Immediately the results where dramatic. Distance and accuracy increased, and by encouraging Phil to stop casting at a point on the water and raising his aim to the fence line, above the opposite bank, this coupled with slowing his back cast, began to produce near perfect cast, he started laying beautifully accurate well presented casts and it was a joy to watch.   Yes the belt looks ridiculous and I think initially Phil was convinced I was subjecting him to some kind of prank but the results began to speak for themselves and he settled into using the restraint. We moved upstream to the fast water above the pool we had started on and I introduced Phil to a short line Nymphing technique opting for 2 nymphs a PTN (pheasant tail nymph) and a tungsten bead hares ear nymph, both a size 14.

June Sunset, looking West upstream on the River Isla, Aberdeenshire

June Sunset, looking West upstream on the River Isla, Aberdeenshire

A short cast forward into the fast riffles keeping the rod high and the tip level keeps the angler in contact with the flies, allowing them to move downstream past the caster and keeping the flies off the river bed. The first cast produces nothing and I direct Phil to place the next cast on the edge of the fast water between the churning fast flowing water as it drops from the tail of the pool above and the deeper slow water of the bend. He brings the cast down downstream past us and just as the the cast of flies begins to lift in the coursing current, a splash, the water churns and two fish are attempting to take the offered PTN. Watching through my polarisers I see a cracking pound to 1.5 lb. trout rise to the nymph only to be beaten to the prize by nothing more than a 6in wee trout, Phil instinctively strikes! With a whoop of joy! A shout of yes and few exertions of unrepeatable words and thankfully the barbless hook holds as this beautiful wee Isla brownie flees downstream providing some energetic sport, before Phil brings his first wild brown to my offered net. The smile fixed across Phils face said it all – he was now hooked, that first wild brownie had given him his first wild fish high.

The smile says it all! Phil a very happy man with his first Wild Brownie it might be small but its beautiful

The smile says it all! Phil a very happy man with his first Wild Brownie it might be small but it’s beautiful

A wee Isla Brownie in Beautiful condition

A wee Isla Brownie in beautiful condition

We fished on, exploring further upstream on this seriously under fished River with Phil growing more confident with the Nymphing technique and the improvised wrist restriction.  He brought a further 3 fish to the net.   But with light fast fading we called it a night. Phil’s adventures have only just begun and two days later we ventured onto the Deveron which you can catch up on in my next article.

Perfectly formed Isla Brownie

Perfectly formed Isla Brownie

Where Monsters Lurk

For the most part the month of April produced good weather, even after the snowy start to the month, for two weeks we had on the whole bright glorious sunshine with little cloud and temperatures in the mid teens. Damn you Mother Nature! A fly fishers Nightmare we are often like vampires hiding from bright sunshine and I often wonder if sea Trout fishers actual are Vampires that hibernate, You only ever seem to encounter them on summers night in near darkness. But with bright sunshine a flyfishers  complaining is never done! Fishers complain about the weather almost as much as farmers. With farmers on both sides of our family my in-laws and brother in law, I am only too familiar with farmers near identical obsession with the weather, its either too dry, too wet, too windy and invariable far too bright!

Regardless of the weather I was going to wet a fly, with only 3 hours free before heading South to Edinburgh I was under firm instruction, that if I wasn’t back by 1.30pm I was being left behind. A tempting offer to be honest! So with time tight I headed for the Isla not the most accessible location, but the lure of big trout and the fact that few fishers ever fish this gem of a river, had me stalking up the bank searching for rising fish faster than you could say Abandonment! The Isla a tributary of the Deveron rises in the hills North of Dufftown and winds its way for about 20miles to it’s junction with the Deveron below the Avochie beat. A mostly muddy bottomed river, that can be surprisingly deep in places, and surrounded by open farm land and pasture with pockets of forestry and trees dotted along its length. The Isla flows North through Keith before it leisurely swings it’s way East, eventually meeting the larger Deveron and heading north once more before emptying in to the Moray firth at banff.

Taken a week later and conditions changed a lot

Taken a week later and conditions changed a lot but still in the cold pale duns hatching

This shocking, irritatingly good weather would not stop me seeing if I could tempt a few Isla Brownies to the fly. Above me an ocean of pale blue sky, without a cloud in sight provided a gloriously warm sun on my back, Brilliant for sun bathing not so great for fly fishing. A moderate SW-W warm wind blew from behind me and downstream having elected to access the river along the South bank, which at times made casting a little tricky depending on where I was fishing. There is something special about fishing in a t-shirt and waders, when only a month earlier I had been wrapped in 3 layers below my waders, with balaclava and gloves, during my early season search for a 2015 springer. Now basking in a t-shirt in spring sunshine and cursing it in equal measure, arriving on the river about 10am, I spent some time watching and searching for either rising fish or fly life. And I was pleasantly surprised on both fronts, the occasional march brown, LDO and other upright winged dun surfaced and rode the current downstream, only to be greeted by the occasional rising Trout greedily splashing as they snatched the duns from the surface. Bliss! Having aimed for dry fly fishing I was over joyed to see them feeding on the surface. Tackled up with my old favorite; a 9ft 4wt streamflex with a Hardy Featherweight reel loaded with 4wt WTF Cortland Silk floating line, set up with a 14ft tapered leader, 2.8lb tippet and a single point fly, a Cdc LDO emerger pattern I developed and tied myself. I prefer to fish a single dry fly, force of habit as much as anything but it reduces drag on the surface and in the overgrown banks of the Isla it reduces snags and tangles.

Changed conditions cloud with a cold wind and the river is very coloured up

Changed conditions cloud with a cold wind and the river is very coloured up

The rising fish seemed to be concentrated in the faster deeper water, hungrily taking flies in the greasy eddies and on the edge of the choppy water. Kneeling behind a clump of long brown grass, trying to keep my silhouette on the high bank as small as possible against the bright horizon. Not an easy proposition with my 6’2’’ frame! The Isla by no measure is a large river, from 20-30ft wide and smaller in places, so you will never be fishing a hugely long line so subtlety is a must. I send out a fairly short line upstream landing the size 14 Cdc mid current, bobbing down stream in the choppy water with out any visible drag. The water clearer than normal, reveals a flash of bright gold as a Trout darts up from depth and smashes my fly, taking the fly right on the edge of the greasy water, I lift firmly into the fish and its on! The first fish of the day, from the first cast, this is becoming habit of late.

nice 12oz Isla brownie

Nice 12oz Isla brownie taken on the surface from the 1st cast

A nice 12oz brown comes to the net good start considering the bright sunshine. I go through the laborious task of drying out the Cdc and reapplying Frogs fanny, a floatant to the feathers, and Mud to the first couple of feet of the leader. The next couple of hours flit by with several more fish coming to the fly but nothing spectacular during this time there is also a good hatch of March browns seeing dozens cover the surface and stream into the air with the responding increase in sips and splashes as the fish make the most of the self service buffet. It became a quite frustrating 30min with splashy take after splashy without a fish sticking to the hook, spending more time drying the bloody fly than casting it. Frustrated I speed up my progress upstream and quickly jump past a couple of pools, having the occasional cast with little success. Then I reach a beautiful stretch of water, gravelly bottomed with large rock between a shallow pool and a deeper pool, the rocks generating deep eddies and greasy water there is weed banks dotted here and there and with the clear water it could be mistaken for a southern chalk stream. Picking out the odd dun hatching on the pool above I watch them with keen interest drift down through the fast water and watch four fish rise, the first two fish look like a good size gently supping the flies from the surface and in the clear water I watch them turn beneath the surface and return to their stations. I watch this a couple of times and establish that in a 10ft length of water there are four fish all lying one behind another with at least two of them over a lb. I slip down the bank among the long grass and reeds lying flat against the bank I calmly change my tippet due to a couple of knots I’ve managed to stick in the line, furiously striking at taking fish that never stuck to the hook. Doing this calmly is not easy I just want to get the fly on the water, but I might as well pause breath and make sure its all at its best. I pick out a new dry Cdc emerger from the box and tie it to the tippet showing the patience and care of a surgeon. Brushing on the floatant and carefully Mudding the line, its not going to be an easy cast from the this position but its going to have to be a good one, the high bank heavily vegetated could go wrong fast, it felt like a life and death situation. I want one of those lb plus fish but one wrong or crappy cast and I could spook them and put them off the rise.Casting with my arms high in an attempt to clear the snags I opt for a double haul to guarantee distance, on the final movement bringing my road forward I tug the line and release and it streams out through my finger landing gently behind the bolder nearest the fish and my fly lands right were I want it. Perfect! Hold on – the line is hung up in the slower back eddie and my fly is coming round faster any moment the fly is about to start dragging and generating an eddie, bugger! As the fly moves in to greasy water a fish rises and sips swallow the size 14 Cdc, looks like a good fish, I strike! And it is a bloody good fish, it turns and breaches the surface then breaches again clearing the water completely, Bloody Nora it’s a salmon! I shout at myself, it turns and runs down the pool stripping line from my reel, turning again it runs back at me, the rod high above my head I furiously strip line in trying to stay in contact with this monster on a size 14 barbless hook…its not a salmon!

PB brown Trout taken on the river Isla, Dwarfing the landing net

PB brown Trout taken on the river Isla, Dwarfing the landing net

7lb Trout Dwarfing the reel, returned shortly afterward tone caught another day

7lb Trout Dwarfing the reel, returned shortly afterward tone caught another day

Now in the river knee-deep fighting this Lunker it passes me as it runs and I see it’s a beauty of a brownie! No time to enjoy the fight, the panic of making sure I land this fish of the season on 2.8lb tippet has over taken me. 10 minutes playing it, giving it line when it wanted but staying in firm contact with it, eventually it tired. My arms aching I manage to bring it to my net. A brook net. the net looked tiny next to this lunker!  Carefully this slab of gold slips and somehow squeezes in to the net. I immediately begin whooping like an Idiot, what a fish. Hooked nicely in the top lip I slip the hook free, a couple of snaps, I weigh him; 7lbs, and he’s back in the water.

On my knees waist deep in fast water I cradle my Isla gold allowing him to regain his strength, slipping my fingers from under my prize, he slowly swims off upstream only to turn and rocket like a torpedo down the pool and out of sight! What a privilege! A 7lb wild brownie from a small river. it was on the thin side as you can see, with fins like wings in perfect order. Thin from along winter and spawning, come the end of the season he could be 10lb+! A personal best for wild Scottish Brown Trout, 29.5 inches long 7lbs, best part was watching him swim off safe and well, a brief meeting that made my day, till next time. Trembling I pulled myself from the River and under a gloriously sunny blue sky I headed home with a rather smug smile on my face. so even in the wrong weather there are fish to be had!

Gold in the hills of Aberdeenshire

Hidden gem is an over used term in my opinion so I am not going to use it this time to describe the Gold mine of a limestone loch that is loch park, a loch that produces stunning bars of Gold. Nestled in a fairly narrow glen with hills rising on the North West and South East sides of the loch, its waters rise very close to the source of the River Isla which runs North east till it meets the River Deveron, South of Huntly and the Isla in it own right is a brilliant trout river, with a reputation for monster trout. Along the South East bank of loch Park the Keith to dufftown heritage rail line runs among the broad leaf, larch and scots pines that stand guard of the loch. Meaning the fishing is only possible by boat, the hills above loch Park are blanketed in conifer plantations helping to add a sheltered protected feel to the narrow loch,  that can, sometimes feels claustrophobic particularly at the north end of the loch when its overcast and you are fishing under the giant trees that line the lochs shores. This claustrophobic atmosphere adds to the secluded feel, hidden from the road and view you could be miles from anywhere. If you happen to be the only rod out that day you feel truly hidden from people, even though the loch sits only a few miles from dufftown. It can be deceiving thou, the trees don’t stop the wind howling down the loch on occasion and if you catch it on the wrong day in can funnel a gale down the mile long water, which is between 6 and 25ft at its deepest. Loch Park is one of, if not the only limestone loch in Aberdeenshire, an old quarry long ago disused and flooded it produces some magnificent wild brown trout fishing with some real lunkers lurking in its depths with fish 5lb plus, having been caught.

Looking North up loch Park

Looking North up loch Park

Arriving at the back of 8.30am at the North end of the Loch, I am greeted with a view straight down the loch light wind swirling across the loch and broken cloud revealing a glimpses of a pale blue spring sky above. two other anglers where tackling up in the car park by the jetty, with only two boats available on the loch each day during the season you are best to book especially early in the season April-may, when the loch fishes at its best.tingling with anticipation, desperate to get on the loch I quickly tackle up, sign in, a quick chat with James who runs the loch. Seeking any hints or tips on what’s been well. And I am first away from the jetty, fishing on my own this time I am how ever joined by my long suffering fishing widow, apparently it’s the only way she gets to see my during the season, she doesn’t fish but is happy to lounge at the back of the boat read a book and net my catches. I row its easier that way for my patience and sanity, I’ve described Jens rowing to friends like watching someone trying to repeatedly lick their elbow! It is just impossible! Putting in loads of effort with out really getting anywhere, its the only way I can put it with out swearing.

Splash take by Loch Park Brownie

Splash take by Loch Park Brownie


First Brownie of the Day taken on a Cdc merger

First Brownie of the Day taken on a Cdc merger

I’ve opted to take only 1 rod a 4wt, 9ft Hardy/Greys streamflex with the Hardy featherweight reel with a 4wt Cortland Platinum precision WTF floating line.

I have elected for this set up for one reason; Loch Park is only really a dry fly loch, for me that’s a Bonus! But it doesn’t suit everyone, its more of a dry fly loch due to necessity more that anything. The rich habitat that limestone lochs provide mean everything grows well and big. Loch Park is thick with weed that thrives in the crystal clear mineral rich water of the loch, this also produces a bonanza of life particularly fly and invertebrate life, a rich food source for the brown trout to feed on. The profusion of weed in the loch requires you to fish on the surface or spend all your pulling weed.  it is more of a water lily than the green mucus strings of weed, that most lochs seem to experience to varying degrees. But Park does also has several naturally clear areas where the lochs depth prevents weed growth and James regularly cuts channels through the banks of weed, allowing easy transit and rich fishing spots for a well-placed fly. The abundance of invertebrates produces incredible hatches and the resulting rises are astounding. Water can be almost carpeted in flies and carapaces and almost appears to boil with fish topping. A vision I witnessed several years ago on my first visit. This buffet menu means fish are plentiful and they grow big and strong and I mean strong! When you hook up with one of these bars of gold it is like hooking a train, brilliant sport! But a strong leader is required, I use an 8lb-tapered leader, out to between 12-15ft in length depending on wind conditions. Now I could go on at length  about leader choice, types and lengths but every fisher I know is different and every fisher develops their own preferences over time and to be honest I don’t want to send you and myself to sleep over the subject.

Looking south down loch Park

Looking south down loch Park

About half way down the loch it cant have been much after 9am I notice fish begin to rise and the decision is easy, I drop the anchor and aim to lay my cast under the tree hanging from the banks. This is also one of those weed free areas but this early in the growing season, the loch is pretty free from weed growth anyway which means plenty of options. I opt for a single fly for presentation, and to stop a dropper snagging on what weed there is, there appears to be a pale coloured dun hatching. Not a huge hatch but enough to bring on the rise, I put on a pale Cdc emerger and cast to within a couple of meters of the bank and leave it. Giving the occasional tweak hopefully giving the fly abit of life, but not moving it really from its position, with in a foot of a repeatedly rising fish. A gentle sup, I strike and I am in to the first fish of the day, Jen muttering she had only just opened her book. It’s a nice fish that gives a great fight as I bring it to the net I am presented with a fish just over a pound, the ironic thing is that on any other Highland loch this wee wild brown trout would be a big fish. On any other day or Loch I would be clapping like a deranged seal with joy. But here its just above average so its quickly returned and back to fishing, the rise continued around the boat as a slow but steady hatch went on, I bring a few more fish to the net as the other anglers motor past heading for the bottom of the loch. The South end and the deepest open section of the loch, a common mistake fishers seem to make on Park assuming that the deep clear water guarantees fish. When in truth they are under the trees and among the weed feeding, from shelter essentially. Ignoring what the signs of fish are telling them, they begin fishing drifts down wind and later conversation with them proves with out much success. This is what happens when fly fishers go in to standard operating procedure rather than fishing to conditions and location. Read the Water! You will reap the reward! 

Crystal Clear water helps bring the Trout to the Net

Crystal Clear water helps bring the Trout to the Net

The fly hasn’t seen any action for a while now so I move down the loch a little, and opt to change the fly still in an area free of weed. Through the gin clear water I can see fallen trees and some other structures below the surface, I decide for a decisive change of fly and opt for a gold head PTN; not something I would normally fish here. In the process of the change a decent, actually very decent fish breeches the surface just behind the subsurface structures I can see; Becoming all fingers and thumbs with excitement I struggle to tie on the fly, eventually succeeding I send out a long cast landing about a meter short of where the fish had breached. I turn to Jen to berate my casting, and as I turn back my line begins diving and arching away, I strike and as I’ve said the loco takes off. What a fight! Smiling like the Cheshire cat I net the 2lb + fish and quickly release it. with out thinking I send a cast back to the same position, immediately I beginning to retrieve the line, the fly is hit by another thundering bar of gold, and its bigger than the last. My face is beginning to hurt from the smiling, again I roll out a cast to the same location more just to gain my composure Before I decide were to place the fly next, when once again its hit! I have a joyous rangey fight form another loch park brownie, I net the third 2lb plus brownie from 3 casts. I sit giddy in the boat, talking nonsense to a bemuse Jen.

I decide its time to move on and visit a couple of more spots around the loch varying between Cdc emergers, a PTN and a Hares Ear Nymph, keeps producing fish. By mid afternoon the fishing has slowed and the wind building carrying a chill on it. I decide quite satisfied for once, it was time for the jetty and home, a miles row away. My day wasn’t over yet, on the leisurely row down the loch we were treated to a true lesson in fishing by an Osprey. Having circled the loch off and on all day the osprey had disappointed by not yet taken a fish, as we reached the half waypoint up the loch. Form high on a larch it had been surveying the water from, it hit the water with a splash! it struggled for a while, before fighting its way sky wards, fighting the reluctant catch beneath it forcing a somewhat erratic flight path as the brownie thrashed its tail.  The osprey struggled to control the big Brownie, which it eventually aligned beneath it in its talons, and treated us to a flyby, boasting about its catch no doubt. A real privilege to witness and the photos caught by Jen where her highlight of the day.

Showing off it Catch

Showing off it Catch

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Osprey3

A great day all round really as we neared the jetty and the end of the day, but I couldn’t resist a cast over some a blipping trout, 100 yards from the jetty. It would have been rude not to! Sending out a cast just beyond a bank of weed showing trough the surface, I brought a trout to the surface, greedily sucking in the wee Cdc Para dun. I had another fish on “ah its only a wee one” I chimed, at which point it realised it was hooked and took off stripping line from my hand. I rarely play fish on the reel opting to hand line them mainly, I feel it gives me more control especially on light leaders, this one gave me little choice and I ended up playing it on the reel. bring it to the net it was by no measure the biggest of the day, but it had fought like a salmon, I slipped it back in to the loch and headed for the jetty and homewards

Loch park(http://www.dufftown.co.uk/prov_attr_detail.php?id=12)(01542 810 334) is a True hidden gem. damn it! I said it but its worth the cliché, it is a brilliant loch to fish. It can be very challenging but very rewarding if your heading north to Aberdeenshire don’t miss it. £20 a rod and worth every penny

Rise of the Dark olives

April arrived not so much with a bang but with a howling shriek and a blizzard! Aberdeenshire seemed to be missing the westerly weather being blown in for most of March so I have to admit I was feeling quite blasé that the weather for Wednesday April 1st for opening day for trout on the Deveron catchment was going to be good and I was sure that my first river Brownie of the season may well fall to a dry. The Sunday before saw me net 8 brownies from a wee loch near the house, during a brief hatch of LDOs, Large dark Olive during the warmth of lunchtime. The nice spring weather seemed set to stay as I even managed to spend a good part of Monday fencing in short sleeves which just made me more cocky that come Wednesday I would be seeing bars of gold falling to a well presented CDC Olive or F-fly

Springing from my bed at the back of 6, brightness bleeding in from the edges of the blind I was as eager as a kid at Christmas. Throwing open the blinds, to view what a waited for opening day of the trout season 2015;  2in of bloody freshly fallen snow!  My rattle was firmly thrown from the pram! And compounded by he sun was splitting the pale blue sky not perfect conditions and freezing temperatures brought with the coating of white stuff. my hopes of fine weather dry-fly start to the season was fast evaporating. I quickly became a grumpy old man as I trudged towards the kitchen, Jen would argue that it’s a permanent state I exist in, She may well be right! With my mood Darkening the sky followed suit, as howling snow shower after prolonged snow shower began blowing in. I made the executive decision to spend the day in the office, muttering and cursing Mother Nature with every glance out of the window. Consoling myself with fly-tying under the watchful eye of the cat who was clearly as frustrated with the weather as I was. Keeping busy at the vice, my mind drifted and I began plotting which pool to target first! With the colder weather the fish will be in the slower, deeper water so I start tripping through my memory for a spot that would fit the bill to kick off the season on. Now all that I required was a change in the weather

Snow April 2015

Looking East over the Devon valley, Opeening day of the trout season

Thursday dawned warmer and over cast, the snow was fast disappearing and there appeared to be a fair bit of fly life flitting about. I was positively skipping with joy, joy I am sure only a trout fisherman can understand, that excited joyous feeling of seeing flies, well maybe a couple of entomologists can relate. A joy of Knowing that the long cold winter break was over. A winter break that often feels more akin to a Game of Thrones Winter, lasting decades! On seeing an avid trout fly-fisher who hasn’t had a chance to cast a fly since the close of season, you would be quite convinced you had seen a white walker.

At this time of year it is all about timing. There is little point running to the river bank at 7 am, the fish will not be feeding and still tucked up in their winter/resting lie and would show little interest in a presented fly.  Only producing frustration and doubt in the eager fly-fisher, thrashing the water. I made do by playing with my tackle…..fishing tackle for the day ahead; I like to only carry a couple of boxes and conversely I ve found, the more boxes you carry the less flies you seem to ever fish. I make a diary note every day I fish of weather conditions, locations, times and the flies that proved successful, a note of the fly life and when there were hatches. This allows me to be somewhat more selective in what flies I take, not to say that I don’t still carry too big a selection at times. This can offer you options, but more often it just breeds self-doubt in your selected flies.

I opted to set up two rods a Hardy/greys Streamflex 9ft, 3wt with a Hardys flyweight reel with a Cortland Platinum 3wt WTF floating line and a 12ft 3x (3LB) Rio superflex leader and a single CDC, dark olive (Hoping and expecting a hatch) In addition I set up a Streamflex Plus 10ft 5wt nymphing rod, with a hardy ultralight reel 5wt Cortland nymph line a 17ft tapered leader with single dropper PTN (pheasent tailed nymph) 2ft above the point fly a Hares ear tungsten jig. Keeping my options open to fish the top given a rise or below, with out having to change leader and fly.

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Looking east down stream on the River Devon

I hit the Deveron late morning, and headed for a favorite pool. The river was up about 6in on the previous day, thanks to the snow melt, but still at a very good level, the river having taken on a lovely peaty, tea colour so indicative of these northern spate rivers. I felt quite confident of seeing a fish or two! Sitting on the back I see little movement and even less sign of fly life of hatch and to irritate me even more a cold wind was beginning to make its presence felt. Regardless I slip in to the cold springtime river water,with the nymph rod and tentatively begin searching a spots I know to have held fish in the past, but to little avail I elect to move on with niggling doubt beginning to lurk. Moving slowly down stream on the bank watching pool after pool I see nothing. I cover a mile and half and I am contemplating bailing out, but that burning desperation to have my first trout of the season from the Deveron, on a dry drives me fourth.

Then down stream of my current loitering spot, in a nice stretch of slack water behind a sunken boulder on the edge of the foam line, I repeatedly see the familiar and tantalising rings spreading out from a rising trout, then the familiar sound; blip! As it sups a fly from the surface, occasional LDOs drift down through the pool on the surface. The hatch I have been waiting for! I move down stream with the aim of casting up-stream to cover the rising fish I stay low being on a high bank and undoubtedly visible against the horizon. I nestle myself in behind the scrub sprouting from the bank of the pool which is to deep to wade so I am left with a tricky cast my first cast arches out and lands the fly perfectly where I want it, smiling to myself, the fly drifts over the lie and nothing excitement tingling in me I lift a long line of the surface to cast again the line shoots out behind me and snags! This is the point it goes wrong, we have all been there! Snag after snag tangling and wrapping your line round every piece of vegetation in sight! The more you try to sort it and untangle it the worse it becomes, the frustration becomes bloody over whelming you are desperate to hook the fish seen rising but it’s not Happening! Ooooh the rage! By the time I get untangled I am hopping up and down on the spot with rage. Down stream of me I see more fish rise in a lower pool, and decide to cut my losses and target them, covering a few fish with cast after cast, but nothing!  A quick change of fly and try again nothing frustration and exasperation in equal measure, I try again and this time on the back cast TWANG! Snap I break my leader and fly gone; the expletives are repeatable, even in a rugby changing room. Swearing and muttering, like a mad man talking it tongues I’ve and enough. THAT’S IT! I call it a day, no point in fishing angry I turn tail and head for home.

The next couple of days are like ground-hog day, between my impatience and eagerness, my fishing just was not going well at all, not a fish to show for it. Loosing more flies than if I had sprayed DDT. I venturing along some of my favorite stretches of the Bogie, I tried probing with nymphs, I tried enticing with dries, but not a fish. And to compound the situation even when there was a hatch of LDOs not a fish surfaced on the 3 miles of the Bogie I waded, fished and scrambled through that day. They were there! I know they were there! I cycled through fly selections and sizes but not a touch.I snagged my fly repeatedly, seemingly on every branch or post by the river, Aaaaah! With every mistake I rush to sort it, which true to Murphy’s Law only makes it worse! Questioning my self endlessly, self-doubt shouting louder and louder in my internal monologue with every decision and cast. The frustration and rage at my own failings spilt over to the point I am fit to scream! The warmer than expected day, the rising blood pressure, the waders and thermal trousers has Me feeling like a boil in the bag idiot! I could have taken my rod and broken it across my knee! We have all been there as fisherman; you hope and dream of those perfect days on the river with the right fly choice off the bat, and with almost every cast a fish falling to the fly and being brought to the net. And when it doesn’t tell out as you’d imagined it would in those dark days of winter, the day progressively falls apart with mistakes and frustrations, a complete loss of focus ensues. Contributing and in many cases, and more often causing the terrible casting and snags. And above all these issue there is that nagging self-doubt again! I once read a an article that ask what’s the difference between a fly-fisher and a good fly-fisher, a fly-fisher goes hoping to catch fish, a good fisher goes knowing that they will catch fish.

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Panoramic view looking South/South east over the Isla

I decide to take a couple of days off from the river and rod. for my own sanity and Jenni’s. Time to refocus, I tied up some new patterns, a few variations and refined a few more. but with Monday dawning the self-doubt was still niggled there. Where to fish I have the choice of 3 rivers the the Deveron, the Bogie or the Isla I am a regular on the first 2, so the decision was made to head for the Isla a local river I have only little experience on, mainly as it’s a little further from the house and as so often happens once I see the Deveron I just tend to stop there. A new adventure and hopefully a larger change in my luck. Heading up-stream from the Portsoy bridge I am aiming to just watch the river for a while before I make a cast I slowly make my way up-stream watching lie and pool after pool and potential lie. The sun is splitting the sky but thankfully the cloud was beginning to build driven by a strengthening wind, blowing down stream unfortunately but I could deal with it as it stood. About 11.30 the beginning of a hatch as at first a few March browns rise from the surface here and there, followed by LDOs in a far greater perfusion, and like a switch being turned fish started blipping.

Whoop! I was still fish on the same 4wt set up with a small quill CDC emerger I target the rising fish almost directly opposite me in the river I land the fly jut above the last rise and the fly is almost instantly engulfed in a splashy rise. FISH ON! Fish bloody on, I quickly bring the little 12in bar of gold to the net! The duck is broken normal service can resume the rise continues for about 40minutes with at least a dozen good-sized trout feeding in the 14in deep faster water downstream from a deep pool, I slip in below the rising trout and slowly ninja like wade up to within casting range, this small stretch of water seems filled with breaching brownies gorging on the carpet of LDOs. Trout Nirvana, I am tingling with joy! I wish I had videoed the sight in front of me, true fly fishers porn!

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2nd Isla Brownie of the season

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Isla Brownie

I land a few more of those golden bars, quickly releasing the barbless hook and getting the fly back to work after, drying out the CDC. The wind that had brought the cloud aiding me earlier, was fast starting to hinder me. I couldn’t get the fly to where it needed to be; the river was also limiting my access to fishable positions so happily but far from satisfied. (There is always room for 1 more fish) I climb from the river and head for lunch.

After the trials and tribulations of the last couple of days I have to take more than the memories of the fine fish that were helping to blot out the nightmarish first couple of days. As I say every experience fishing is a learning experience; I need to remember patience and focus reaps rewards, every time. if you snag take the time, be methodical and don’t repeat, otherwise you’re only shooting your self in the foot by worsening the situation. Start of season Duck broken, i can relax and get back to landing the Brownies. The Isla will be seeing me again soon, there are a couple of lunkers that I’ve got my name on.

The Trout are coming!

March is beginning to slip on, and here in Aberdeenshire it’s becoming more and more evident that spring is growing impatient waiting in the wings. The days are lengthening, and on my recent foray to the River Deveron in search of my elusive Springer the snowdrops are now in full bloom and the tree-lined banks show fattening buds. Pregnant with tightly wrapped leafs waiting to burst forth given the right weather. The land seems to be starting to come to life once more, like those same fattening leaf buds, that in the months to come will shade some of my favourite spots on the Deveron. That same anticipation and nervous impatience visible on the River bank and outside my office window just now, is Spring waiting to be sprung. That excitement is also beginning to build up in me. Like a school boy unbuttoning his girlfriends bra for the first time, I am almost shaking with excitement. Anticipation so tangible I can taste it in my mouth! The Brown Trout season is about to open! And I know every devoted wild Brown Trouter out there is feeling the same.

I am an unashamed Trout Bum and although the Trout season opens most places in Scotland on March 15th my surging excitement will just have to remain corked, till April 1st for Trout on the Deveron. I adore fishing for those beautiful golden brown beauties,spotted with black and red. Often as whiley as the proverbial fox, with an infuriating ability to ignore a perfectly tied and presented fly that would drive you to insanity! But like any addict it makes you return in search of that brown trout fishing fix, time after time!

2lb Brownie taken on the Dry fly April 2013

2lb Brownie taken on the Dry fly April 2013

I am in a privilege position of living almost on the banks of the Deveron. And with the local Association ticket I am entitled to fish 3 great Rivers; The Deveron, The Isla and The Bogie. For what is almost peanuts cost wise I get to fish three quality and quite different rivers in character. Offering some extremely good Brown Trout and Sea Trout fishing. The Deveron holds a particularly special place in my heart. Famous for being a hidden gem of a river and of course, Tiny Morrison and the UKs largest fly caught Salmon at 61lb. It is also where 6 years ago we decided to buy a neglected old estate cottage and spent 18 months renovating, to create our current home. Situated on the hills looking South East over the Deveron Valley, and only 200m from the Deveron’s banks it was an easy decision to make. The Rivers proximity means on those much-anticipated and hopefully soon to return late spring and summers days, I love to slip down through the trees and on to some of the less well trodden Trout pools. And in the dappled sunshine under the over hanging broadleaf’s, I love nothing more than casting a dry-fly on a light 3wt rod. Searching for Trout on some of the beautiful shady glides and the more open tumbling boulder strown faster water sections that can produce a considerable amount of good-sized trout. And this is where I have to make a confession, I don’t eat Trout! Put off it for life as an undergrad working in hotels, I can’t even stomach the smell. But my loss is the trout’s gain, everything gets released except maybe 1 fish a year that I take for my endlessly patient fishing widow.

The Deveron, where I fish it, on the Huntly Burgh water the beat below the Aswanley beat. It is by no measure a large river 20-25ft/5-6m wide. A stoney rocky bottomed river, that rises on the Cabraich an upland area, about 10 miles from where I fish it. A river of large meanders constrained by Landscape, the Granite, and the Metamorphic geology.  A River I have not as of yet see freeze in the winter, even in minus 21c. Even though it is rising off peat laden hills, I have seen it run Gin clear regularly, only to rise 3 meters over night taking the colour of a Starbucks hot chocolate, minus the Marshmallows. Like any good spate river it is changeable, then there are the times when the depth gauge seems to show no upward movement, even after days of rain with every permit holder screaming for rain to bring up the water and the summer runs of Sea-Trout. But like any devoted lover you take the rough with the smooth!

Deveron Valley

I fish the Deveron almost everyday that will allow during the open season. And have spent many happy days on it.  I love the late spring days of May and the early summer ones of June when the river banks are roaring and surging into life and the trout are feed and fighting hard. Certainly in May you can fish almost all day from morning to late in the evening, as the light never seems to totally go from the sky, being this bit further North. The water and weather hasn’t got warm enough to put the fish off feeding during the middle of the day on these May days. And I can often disappear after breakfast and only quickly return for dinner and a cupa before seeing the day out on 1 of my many favourite pools.

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Looking down stream on the Deveron Early June 2013

And now for an apology! there are not as many pictures in this weeks blog, there’s a couple of reasons for this; I rarely take my camera or phone from my pocket during my Trout fores,  I’m too busy fishing and also i don’t want every one knowing my favourite spots, selfish I know! But I guess if you want to find them, you will just have to come with me!

It quite often takes a combination of factors to collide fortuitously and produce Trout fishing Nirvana. One day in particular on the Deveron comes to mind. Early July the morning before my little sisters Wedding. I am damned if I can remember their wedding anniversary, But I remember the day before fondly. The weather was just perfect, quite still and warm, the Glen was filled with mist, and almost not a breath of wind. 5am, already quite bright and the sun fast rising I threw on waders, a t-shirt, cap and polariser’s. I opted for a Hardy/Greys streamflex 9ft 3wt to allow longer casts, not to spook the fish in the light peaty water as I daintily stumble trough the pool, a ballerina I am not! The streamflex is a very reasonable priced, light rod that is just simply brilliant for River work, I have 8 or 9 of them at different weights and use them endlessly teamed with a Hardy flyweight reel and the Cortland Sylk line.

Almost running from the house, I am on the river by 20 past and set up a New Zealand style rig, a12ft 2lb frog hair leader, with a size 14 black klinkahammer, and from the bend of the Klinks Hook I tie a 12inch length of leader, with a size 16 GH hares ears nymph with a flash back. Then wait and watch, containing my urge to just chuck the fly out there and get fishing, the sun isn’t managing to break through the mist which is creating an eerie quite stillness, this is great news! The fish won’t be hiding from the glaring brightness, the mist so thick I couldn’t see the top end of the pool, or the next pool below the riffle. and the light that was seeping through was casting a beautiful neutral light. The quiet stillness was only being broken by the dawn chorus and the enticing sounds of sipping and toping fish all around me. Trout Nirvana!  I move to the tail of the pool and send my first cast out and up-stream at about 20 degree, reaching just into the tail of the pool, usually a great spot to find trout. The line begins to swing round and BANG! The Kink disappears and I am into my first fish, taken on the Nymph a lovely 9in brownie, I like to fish the fly about 20 degree across and up-stream from me and let it swing right round to about 30 degree below my position. a bit like the Clyde style technique. I am sure some are shaking their heads at this, but it has proved itself, time and again for me.

That was the first fish of over 45. The next 2 and a half hours and 3 pools flew past in a blur of pleasure, None of them were much bigger than that first fish and many were smaller but it was brilliant sport.  My face was beginning to hurt from smiling. I would rather have 2 hours of that wild Brown Trout sport blissfulness, than a days worth of over fed rainbow hooligan bashing. Greeted at the bottom of the last pool by a rather frustrated looking better half, anxious to head South for the wedding, my day drew to an end. Imagine the cheek of it spoiling a good days fishing for a Wedding! The next day as I recanted the tail of my day’s fishing to some of the Grooms Uncles and Cousins they openingly professed that it would have been a damned shame to spoil this fine day for………….. a Wedding! I Love my little sister but she should have considered a winter Wedding!

If you are looking for a hidden gem Aberdeenshire, try a couple of days on the Deveron and hopefully soon I can wet your appetite with more about the neglected treasure that is the Bogie