32, coarse fishing, Fishing in Ireland, Pike

32, episode 2, County Roscommon

Friday 14th August 2020

The day dawned fine and fair as promised by the forecasters. An easterly breeze blew across the garden as I surveyed the flowers and pulled out the odd weed. Where shall I fish today?  The eternal question needed a swift answer and looking at the thin clouds I plumped for lough Conn. Out came the outboard engine and fuel tank, the fishing bag and rods to be stowed in the car. But wait! The thin cloud cover had broken already and blue sky was filling the heavens above me. That wind seemed to have dropped to a mere zephyr too. Conn would be terribly hard work in a flat calm and brilliant sunshine. Maybe I needed to re-think my plans. It was a few minutes work to empty the car again and fill it with coarse gear. I would go to County Roscommon for the day and try to chalk off another of the 32 counties.

In the townland of Creeve, some miles to the North of Strokestown, there is a lake with excellent access, Lough Cloonahee. It apparently is home to Bream, Rudd and Hybrids so it sounded like a good place for a novice like me. My local filling station provided a shot of diesel for the car and a couple of loaves of bread for bait then I hit the road. As always, actually finding the lough was harder than it should be. The brown signposts pointing out the fishing lakes were either missing or pointing in the wrong directions but I managed to figure it out and found the lough without too much hassle. In the small, rough carpark I got chatting to the local farmer about this and that, as you do. What with the Covid he had seen virtually no anglers this year so he had no idea how the lake was fishing. A quick look at the water revealed the good folks of Roscommon had seen a lot of rain recently as the fine wooden walkway which stretches for 30 metres along the shore was partially submerged. I tackled up and found a dry spot off to the right to commence operations.

Plumbing the depth I found 15 feet of water close in so I set up the float rod with 3 pound straight through and a size 14 hook adorned with a single ear of sweetcorn. My feeder rod and old Cardinal reel full of 6 pound mono was rigged with an open cage feeder and a size 10 hook tied to 9 inches of 3 pound. 3 ears of sweetcorn were pushed on to this hook and I lobbed it out a few yards. This process was repeated a few times so the feeder full of bread and corn could unload in the same area to try and attract the fish to me. I also loose fed corn into the swim as I fished.

Time flew by as I made small adjustments to the rigs and re-baited frequently. About an hour into the session I lifted the feeder rod to recast and felt a sharp tug. Striking, I met fierce resistance and I was into a good fish. What was this now? It felt heavy so it might be a bream and images of slab-sided bronze fish filled my head. Off on another run went the fish, so it definitely was not a bream! Still unseen she hugged the bottom shaking her head and making lunges in different directions. Maybe it was a huge Rudd, there were supposed to be some big ‘uns in here. No, Rudd would be higher up in the water column. What about a Hybrid? After all they are supposed to be great scrappers. I applied as much pressure as I dare with the 3 pound breaking strain tippet foremost in my thoughts. Up came the beast and she broke the surface – it was a blooming Pike! The battle raged for a while longer but I admit I could scarcely care less if the fish broke free. She didn’t and at the second attempt she slipped into the meshes and was lifted out. I thought it must surely be foul hooked but no, the pike had taken the sweetcorn fair and square with the hook nicely placed in the scissors.

Quickly unhooked, I slid her back into the water. It was only later when I had cleaned off the slime, changed the hook link, re-baited and got the rod back in the water that it dawned on me – I had managed to catch a fish in Roscommon!

watching that float

More groundbait, more waiting and re-casting, more nothing happening. I tried a bigger hook with numerous ears of corn on it but that didn’t work. I tried moving to the other end of the walkway and setting up there in a nice looking swim. That was a similar failure. In the end I gave up and packed away the gear. It was mid-afternoon so I would get back home in good time. If it hadn’t been for that suicidal pike I would have blanked. I know I caught a nice fish and I should be happy about that but it felt like cheating somehow. I was not fishing for pike and had set up to catch roach or bream. Beggars can’t be choosers I suppose.

While the lake was very high it was not too coloured and I am not going to blame conditions for my lack of success. According to the IFI website Cloonahee holds Bream, Roach, Perch, Hybrids and even some Tench but none of them distained to take my bait. I am of the opinion that using sweetcorn was the problem. In future I will make sure I have a range of baits with me so I can swap as required. For now, I am just happy to have captured a fish in Roscommon.

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32, Fishing in Ireland, trout fishing

32, episode 1, county Sligo

Lough Talt

From my notes of 6th August 2020

Those of you who followed my blog will know that I have a madcap plan to catch a fish in every county in on the island of Ireland. Covid-19 blew a huge great hole in that venture but I made a start to this odyssey today by visiting Lough Talt in the neighbouring county Sligo.

Lough Talt sits in a glen amid the Ox Mountains just inside the Sligo border. Those of you unfamiliar with the west of Ireland will be amused to know the Ox Mountains are a range of low hills a few hundred feet high. There are no towering crags, steep slopes of loose scree or hanging corries, only mist shrouded rounded hills clad in heather and sheep nibbled grass. It may lack alpine grandeur but it is a very scenic area much loved by walkers and hikers. Indeed, today the path was busy with family groups and dog walkers out enjoying the fresh air. I had trout on my mind though!

Weather today was just about ideal for fishing this lake, a good strong south wind was whipping up the length of the lake and cloud cover was not too low, at least when I was fishing. I reached the lough after a quiet drive via Ballina and the little village of Buniconlon. The road twists and turns as it gains height then drops again as the lake comes into view. There is good parking at the south end of the lake with room for a dozen cars. Tackling up with a three fly cast of a Bibio on the bob, a Jungle Wickhams in the middle and a small claret Bumble on the tail I set off on the track around the lough. The stretch of shoreline near the car park was uninspiring so I plodded on in my thigh waders. I was not sure what the shore would be like so I had donned the waders to cope with any stream crossings or to get out past any weed beds. The waders proved to be a bit of overkill and my hiking boots would have been a better option as the banks were firm and the path along the shore was well maintained (I will know for the next time).

Eventually I reached a spot which looked fishy so I set about my business in the strong cross wind. Casting up to about 15 yards was fairly comfortable, after that the wind gave me some issues so I stuck to the medium length of line all day. No offers for the first while but then I lightly hooked a small trout which promptly fell off. Bugger! Only a few casts later I rose another trout but felt no contact. Was I going to have one of those days? I eyed the flies on the leader with some doubt, especially that Claret Bumble on the tail. Tied on a size 14, it might be a bit too small for today I pondered. What the hell, I will leave it there for now. I marched up the path a bit further and found another likely looking spot.

Out shot the line, steady retrieve back to about 5 yards out then lift off and cast again. I was getting into the rhythm now and concentrating hard so I was diligently covering the water. A splash followed by a tug and I was into a trout at last. Not the biggest fish I have ever hooked but he was very welcome indeed. Of course he had taken the wee Claret Bumble I had so little faith in! A quick pic then he was popped back into the water. Two cast later and the exercise was repeated with a slightly larger specimen. Then it went quiet again.

I moved once more and picked up another trout and lost one too. That pattern was repeated often with only one or two offers at any one place. The trout seemed to be spread out with nothing of any note to keep them in one spot. I did find a large sunken rock about ten yards out from the shore and by carefully placing my flies just in front of it I lured the best trout of the session. I had removed the Bibio which had unusually failed to register a single offer. In its place a tied on a Welsh Partridge, a fly that I have not used in many a long year. The Wickham also failed to attract any interest so I substituted it with a small Soldier Palmer. In the end, the Welsh Partridge, Claret Bumble and Soldier Palmer shared the honours with each of them catching about the same number of trout.

The water looked ‘fishier’ further towards the north end the lough. Occasional large rocks jutted out of the water and fish were to be found near to them. I ended up with about a dozen brownies ranging in size from tiddlers to respectable three-quarter pounders. I guess I fished for about three hours before turning and retracing my steps. I got to the car and stowed the gear way just minutes before the heavens opened and a heavy mist descended. Perfect timing for once!

I can heartily recommend Lough Talt to you for a few hours gentle fishing in lovely scenery. The trout may not be large but that to me is insignificant. Flies tied in small sizes seemed to do best and claret or red were the colours which got a reaction today. Anything small and dark should do the job though. There was a wind there today and that was a bonus both for the ripple on the water which is always a help and, probably more importantly, it kept the midges at bay. It looks like a place where you would be eaten alive on a calm day. Don’t expect solitude on this water, there were many walkers on the path all the time I was there. I can tick Sligo off my list of counties now. One down, thirty one to go!

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