Sea River Hill: Islay 2013

The week served as a reunion for four lads who used to share a flat at university. It was also an engagement party for Si and Steph , a birthday party for Mary and a farewell party for Jonny and Lucy who have since emigrated to Australia! Needless to say after a big game of ultimate frizbee and a quick dip off the pier at Port Charlotte we were hitting the beers pretty hard that night! Helen did not appreciate the 5am alarm I had set to coincide with low tide.

Hungover and tired I headed north west to Loch Gruinart - a sandy sea loch that flows more like a river at low tide. Sleepy, cold and miserable I snoozed in the car waiting for a good old Scottish summer downpour to pass over but eventually the possibility of sea trout and even sea bass lured me out into what can only be described as an apocalyptic weather front. Having faffed around for another half hour setting up the fly rod and spinning rod I started the short walk across the bay before quickly realising that is was not low tide at all but in fact high tide! The ebbing sandy estuary I had visited last year was now a huge flooding weedy bay. 10 casts and 3 spinners later I was soaked to the bone and with a churning stomach from the previous nights session I soon found myself heading for home just in time to start breakfast before the team got up.... Not the start I had hoped for!

Congratulations Si and Steph! Pipes and a homemade banner to welcome them to Islay.

Spirits were soon lifted as we greeted Si and Steph off the ferry with bagpipes and our poor attempt at a homemade banner (it's the thought that counts)! Next stop the beach for what turned out to be a wet BBQ - I love Scotland! Despite the weather we managed about every possible beach sport there is including another cool dip for Jonny and I before we called it day. With fishing well and truly at the back of my mind, the next day was a lazy one with a lie in and quick pop round the local distillery - Bruichladdich, life was good again! Drams and board games were the order of the evening and Tuesday was another lie in for me. It was Si and Steph's last day and I had volunteered to take them to the ferry allowing Haydn and Jonny a quick round of golf. It had nothing to do with the fact there was some good mackerel and Pollock fishing very close to the ferry terminal! I parked at Bunnahabhain distillery and headed round to the main flow of tide between Islay and Jura, just near the famous shipwreck. Conditions were perfect and I soon had a handful of pollock spinning including one of about 3lbs. With a couple of sea bass flies from Lyme Regis a couple of weeks ago I tried my arm at pollock on the fly and sure enough managed one at over 1lb. Having caught a dozen or so pollock I headed for home with a couple of fish for the pot. The seafood platter at the Loch Indaal pub could not have been a better reward after a bit of sea fishing. A few more drams in the bar proved very valuable to me and after a quick chat with some locals I soon had some new fishing spots marked out for tomorrow's tide.

2 of the larger pollocks top on spinner bottom on fly

Opposite the Paps of Jura - not a bad place to be fishing!

The famous Loch Indaal seafood platter

After my previous misreading I double checked the tide table and high tide was just after 7am so it was to be another early start. I headed to an open sea bay at Loch Indaal for 6am on what was a glorious summers morning. A slight breeze kept the midges away as I worked my way along the bay between small burns casting a small teal blue and silver with a medicine on the dropper between perfect sand interrupted by patches of weed. It wasn't long before the first trout came out the water. A clean silver sea trout of about 4lb right where my fly had just been. I recast adding more life to the flies but no luck. As high tide approached I soon realised I was surrounded by sea trout and I don't mean a shoal of finnock.... I mean serious 5lb plus fish. The calm sea probably didn't help, I tried smaller flies and eventually as the weather turned I put on some streamers and despite one follow it was no use. About an hour after high tide it was all over. The fish had gone and I was left clueless - what had I done wrong? Had I spooked the fish? Was my retrieve to slow? Too fast? Were my flies not life-like enough? These questions were ones I asked myself all day in hope of a better morning the following day.

The one that got away...

Top - The long winged Teal Blue and Silver Streamer
Bottom - A lightly dressed Medicine fly.

Sure enough, I was at the same bay the next morning in very different conditions. Wind and driving rain was pushing straight onto the shore and the trickle coming from the burns yesterday was replaced by peaty foamy spates running across the beach. With a heavy swell I swapped yesterdays floating line with an intermediate and opted for a larger teal blue and silver streamer. Casting was torturous - double hauling a 7wt into a 20 knot wind with the occasional wave lifting me off my feet was not easy. I found my rhythm just in time for the first fish to start showing. Maybe it was one too many Bruichladdichs the night before but the fish seemed bigger today. I remember now seeing the yellow belly of one go straight over my fly line and I swear it must have been a double figure fish! I even thought I saw the metal black back of a Salmon leap clean out of the water. Whisky hallucinations or the real deal, my nerves were trembling either way!

I concentrated on where the burn ran into the sea and again was surrounded by fish. I cursed myself for not having a line tray as the slow sinking line got tangled in weeds at my feet as I retrieved, wasting valuable time - I knew the fish weren't going to be here long. I froze, square in front of me was about three big fish heading and tailing in amongst the weeds. They were slowly cruising around obviously feeding on whatever they could get from the seaweed. I cast just beyond and away from them and stripped the double streamer past them.... Bang! The rod bent over and I desperately tried to get the line on the reel. The reel spun in double time as the fish headed out to sea jumping three times in succession before the hook came out. I had seen it as clear as day a 7lb or 8lb sea trout on my line for maybe 10 seconds had me almost to my backing. Those 10 seconds were the best, worst, most exciting, heartbreaking and agonising of my fishing career to date. I stood with the waves breaking around me and my head in my hands. The trembling nerves turned into shaking adrenaline and maybe it was lack of sleep but I wasn't sure if the salty taste in my mouth was sea spray or tears! It wasn't to be. I fished on and managed a couple of smaller plucks and another large fish showing near my fly before it was all over again and I had no more chances at an Islay sea trout this year.

A disappointed Rocky.