I don’t know how, but I had not met Peter before I started this latest job. A fellow Scot, he lives in the Westport area and does a lot of fishing. We both know the same guys and fish in roughly the same places but we had never bumped into each other before now. Both of us pitched up in Mayo around the end of the 1990’s but unlike me he already had strong family connections to the area. We finally met up and have been swapping fishing tales since I started this assignment in January. Peter’s main focus is on sea angling but he dabbles in other branches of the sport too. Last week he surprised me with a wee present.
Peter has been around and on a trip to USA some years ago he picked up a box of small soft baits which regaled in the name ‘Trout Magnet’. Alas the trout showed no interest but he caught some perch on them back in the day. Since then the lures had been left in his loft and forgotten about until he heard me rabbiting on about canal fishing. I was delighted he no longer wanted the box when he gave it me them. Here was another form of fishing for me to try out.
In the past soft baits have caught me the odd pike but nothing to write home about. The whole drop-shotting thing passed me by and ‘urban fishing’ on canals in cities seemed to be a world away from me drifting in a boat on the Irish loughs. Now that I occasionally fish the Royal or Grand canals here I can see that jigging a small soft bait could bring me a few perch. I don’t own a drop-shot rod but I have a couple of light spinning rods that might do the trick. There is an old ABU Duet with two tops, one of which is rated for 2 – 5 grams so that will probable be fine for this kind of work. I know the experts in drop shotting use braid for their running line but the old ABU’s rings were never intended for that so I will just use some light mono instead. All I want is a set up that I can use for a change and not spend the whole day with.
The old box is in poor shape, all twisted and bent. I will try steaming it back into shape but I suspect it is beyond saving. The same goes for most of the hooks. The neat little jig hooks were all rusted to some degree. I tried to save one or two but I will have to make up new ones. In the end only 4 hooks could be salvaged by cleaning up with fine grade emery paper, the rest were far too rusty. The baits themselves have fared much better and a wide range of coloured grubs are perfectly usable. A good clean in warm soapy water was administered as they were dirty with years of neglect. A swoosh about in the suds then dried off in some paper towel and they looked just fine. They are very small, only an inch long but I think they will be attractive to perch. I already own some bigger ones so I now have a good selection to pick from.
The tiny jig hooks are light enough they could be cast with a fly rod. I however am planning on using them on normal hooks on a drop shot set up. The baits themselves come in a range of colours with browns and oranges prevailing. They are split tails so should have a bit of action in the water.
I looked up Trout Magnet on line and sure enough they are still going strong. There is a short video on the website which goes into the detail of how to rig the lure. They fish these on the river suspended under a bobber on very light line (2 pound test).
I particularly like the fact they are so small. The run-of-the-mill perch in Irish canals is between a quarter and half a pound. Your average 3 inch bait is just too big for wee fellas like these but my newly acquired one inchers should do just fine. I have watched a few videos on drop-shotting and while the basics look pretty straight forward I am guessing there is more to it than meets the eye. My love of using maggots under a waggler will remain but the wee plastic grubs mean I now have an alternative for slow days of when I am low on bait.
A much-loved fly tying book which has been lost for ages turned up yesterday when Helen was doing some spring cleaning. It had somehow found its way into the bottom of a press along with some of her astrology books, disused scarfs and toys for the cats. Rescued from this ignominious fate, it has now returned to pride of place on one of my fishing book shelves. Yes, one of the bookshelves, there are a few. Let me state quite clearly that I am not a book collector. There are no first editions in my collection and nothing remotely valuable. I simply acquired various angling books along the way over the years and it adds up to a nice few by the time you get to my age. With modern technology I wonder how many younger anglers will enjoy the same experience of owning angling books or if there will just be digital copies floating around in the ether?
Between us, herself and I have filled the house with books of many kinds. Besides my fishing books my passion for military history, travel and nature means there is a healthy collection of those genres too. Add in Helen’s tarot, astrology and cookery books and it gets to be a bit overwhelming sometimes. There are books galore in the sitting rooms, in the bedrooms, on the landing, in the hall and kitchen. Only the bathroom is a book-free zone (so far). There used to be more! Over the years I have moved house/country often and along the way a chest of books and photographs disappeared. I was very busy with work at the time and failed to notice the loss for months but I miss those treasures from my past now.
The long lost book I mentioned at the start is a lovely volume simply entitled ‘Irish Mayflies’ by Patsy Deery. Gorgeous photographs adorn the pages and it is a pure joy to sit and read the descriptions of the flies and the notes about the fishers who invented them. If you enjoy making trout flies I highly recommend you buy this book even if you live far from Ireland, it is a lovely thing to own. For me it evokes memories of past glories during the mayfly seasons of yesteryear, great trout slashing at high-riding dries, greendrakes on the breeze or the fish dimpled surface on a calm day. The hatch is but a shadow of what it used to be but I was lucky enough to enjoy some spectacular days on Mask and Carra in the waning years of the last century.
I tend to trot out the same books again and again. Both Hugh Falkus books, simply titled ‘sea trout fishing’ and ‘salmon fishing’ are rightly seen as classics and I bought my copies many moons ago and still read from them on a regular basis. That the man himself has since been shown as none too pleasant does not detract from the brilliance of his work. Clear, concise, tempered in the forge of experience they provide anglers with a solid grounding for migratory fish angling. I know he fished on prime beats during halcyon times but still the concepts he wrote about generally apply today as well. Cold winter nights in front of a blazing fire, spent with a glass of something strong and one of Hugh’s books to ponder over are a great joy.
Before relocating to Ireland I used to buy books on Irish angling to get me through the long periods away from the Emerald isle. These are all well worn now after years of thumbing but I still love them. Malone’s book of Irish Trout and Salmon Flies was, and indeed still is, a particular favourite. Lots of variations and many very old patterns are in this volume and I found it fascinating that there could be so many flies with the same name. The complexity of some of the old salmon flies must have made them a real challenge to make. While I enjoy making and fishing with some mixed wing patterns I steer clear of the ones which demand the eyesight and dexterity of a jeweler.
Most of my books were bought from book shops or online and exactly where or when I bought them is not something I remember but some books are different. This one for example:
What makes this non-descript soft covered book of New Zealand fly patterns special is where I bought it. I was in Delhi with work ( I have been lucky enough to have worked out there a few times). I had a day off so met up with a mate and we spent the day visiting museums, eating amazing food and walking the dirty, over-crowded but endlessly fascinating streets of the Indian capital. We ended up taking a tuk-tuk to a book market where you could buy just about any book in any language and in any condition. The thing was there was no order to any of this, just piles of books of all kinds to rummage through. Books in Russian, Japanese, Mandarin or any tongue you can imagine littered the market but I stumbled upon the New Zealand paperback and was delighted to buy it. Just picking it up reminds me of the afternoon heat, that poor woman picking over a pile of rubbish looking for something to eat, the black kites wheeling in the hazy sky and that unmistakable smell of Delhi. I admit to falling in love with India, I miss it terribly and want to go back again despite the awful things you see there. Maybe next year………
Most of my books are either fly tying manuals or cover game fishing but there are a few dedicated to the rough and tumble of sea fishing. I love an old book called ‘The Anglers book of Sea Fish’ which I remember buying from an angling book club in the dim and distant past. This large format book contains virtually nothing about how to catch the fish but it has glorious photographs of the different species and it for this reason I adore looking at it. Sometimes you need lots of information but other times just staring at a good picture is sufficient.
I think you will have gathered by now that I love books and fishing books in particular. Is my generation going to be the last to enjoy a love affair with the written word or will physical books make a comeback? I don’t think they will. Chopping down trees to make books is going to become a no-no in the near future (book paper needs to be made of virgin fibre to give it bulk and opacity). With so much of the planets resource under pressure and diminishing on a daily basis reading books for pleasure is going to be a thing of the past. I will hang on to my collection, enjoying them and reading often until my eyesight fails me. Then I hope to pass them on to someone younger and who will treasure the books as I have. like all my other fishing gear, I hope someone else get enjoyment out of them once I depart this mortal realm.
Perhaps in a small way I am contributing to the demise of books. Here I am at a computer writing down my thoughts and ideas in a blog instead of in a book. I must admit the idea of writing a book does appeal and it is something which I might tackle at some point in the future. I can’t imagine any publisher would take me on but self-publishing is common now and I will look into it later this year. Who knows, maybe in years to come someone will pick up a dusty volume written by an exiled jock in the book market in downtown Delhi!
So fishing is on hold indefinitely. Some anglers, lucky enough to live close to the water, are catching a few salmon from the Drowes and Delphi. Locals down Oughterard way are catching good brownies on the Corrib on trolled brikeen baits too. Apart from that it is all quiet here. Water levels are high so hopefully some spring salmon are nosing their way upstream, unmolested by us anglers. There were good numbers of salmon in most rivers last season and we have to hope that trend continues this year.
I will tie some flies and do some repairs but with the grass growing outside, birds singing in the bushes and the days lengthening it feels like time to be out on the water. I fixed three broken swimfeeders yesterday afternoon but it really just made the longing for the riverbank worse. The swimfeeders were part of a batch I bought online secondhand. It was a good selection of types and weights so it was handy to get me started. Some of them needed repairs and these three had somehow escaped previous attention so I whiled away a few minutes tying on a loop of 30 pound braid and a swivel to each of them. To finish them I wanted to use some silicon tubing to stiffen the new link but try as I might I couldn’t lay my hands on any. They might twist a bit in use but they are a nice size, small enough for everyday use and not like some of the huge, heavy ones I have in my box.
Next up I sorted though some plugs to put together a set to bring coarse fishing with me. I always carry a pike rod in case the roach are not biting. A small tin of metal spoons live in the bottom of the coarse fishing box, different sized Tobys and Atoms, but I think a selection of plugs would be handy too. I have a couple of spare 13cm original Rapalas so I pop them in an old blue plastic box. An 18grm Hi-Lo was lying around so it found a new home. There is a very nice X-rap too which could be a great lure for canal pike. Then there are some tiny wee rapalas which are as likely to lure a perch as a jack. That will do, I just wanted a few plugs to give me an option if metal spoons don’t work on the day.
In an attempt to cheer myself up I ponder over a map of the local area. I am looking for somewhere within 5km of the house where I could wet a line. I know there is nowhere with good fishing but I am desperate so perhaps I can find a few perch in one of the small loughs around the town. Lough Sallagh reputably holds a population of perch but it is surrounded by houses and the margins are dense beds of reeds, so it is no use. Mallard Lough is just on the 5km limit for me, just out the Newport road. I used to live out that direction and passed the lough every day but never fished it despite there being a ramp for launching a boat. Over the years I have heard differing reports about this lough. My angling mates would have all fished it when they were kids, cycling out there with rods strapped to their bikes. All they ever caught were tiny perch and minute jacks. A mate of mine from Westport had much better success a few seasons ago float tubing it with a fly rod and taking pike to double figures there. I have no float tube but I could drop the boat there for a day and see if there are any of these pike still living in the shallow, rocky water. I would not risk taking my engine with me, not knowing the lake it would be an invitation for disaster.
The far end of Lough Lannagh has a small population of Tench which I might try for once the water warms up a tad. I would be right on the 5km limit and so risking the fine if caught. I heard of one poor chap out Louisbourgh way who was a keen surfer. He just could not stand being cooped up any longer so he went to a local beach to catch a few waves and breathe some fresh air. The cops were waiting for him on the beach when he came in. That is how bad things are in the Irish police state these days. So the tench in Lannagh will have to wait until summer.
It looks like Mallard lough is my only option then. The weather is has been mixed lately with everything from snow and ice to balmy but windy days. Next month will see some proper fishing weather and I will venture out and try for a pike on Mallard then.
We got some snow here over the past few days. Not a lot of snow, maybe an inch or two but enough to make the roads treacherous and to push gas bills into the stratosphere by keeping the heating on all day. It’s February so we should expect some inclement weather I suppose.
I am making a few flies for Dr. John Connelly today. A wonderful angler and great naturalist, John lives in Pontoon and fishes the loughs around here as often as he can despite his 80 years. One of life’s true gentlemen, I had the pleasure of fishing with him and Derek Woods last year and I promised him then I would make some flies for him. Today seems to be the perfect day for that job.
I started off with my Fiery Brown, just the normal tying but with an added orange hen hackle and jungle cock cheeks.
Then a Katie Bibio which are always a good early season pattern on lough Conn.
A Bumble next, golden olive.
Raymond, that great killer of trout on lough Conn is next.
Green Peter, of course on size 10’s for sedge time.
A teal, Blue and silver in case he is fishing for sea trout…..
Maybe a Yellow Stimulator too, good during the mayfly
I make a few others and chuck in a couple of salmon flies for good measure. John lives right on the shore of Lough Cullin and Conn is well within the dreaded 5km limit of travel so he will be able to get out fishing when he wants. I hope these few flies bring him a trout or two, the good doctor is a great man for winkling a few out!
OK, so the obvious schoolboy error here is I am a full 24 hours late in posting this! I was wrapped up at work all day then busy with household stuff when I got home yesterday so it is only now I have a spare minute or two and can post this to you all. Just imagine it is yesterday!
This date was always one of the major highlights of the angling year for me when I lived in Aberdeen all those years ago. 11th February was the opening day of the salmon season on the river Don. I was very lucky to have easy access to some of the prime water on the lower river and for a few seasons before I moved away from the area. A time of chasing pretty girls, drinking beer, riding motorbikes and catching salmon, what a life! In those marvelous days of my late ‘teens I enjoyed some amazing sport.
As a lad I had fished the local association water which back then came as far down river as the road bridge at the end of the Upper Parkhill beat. While the occasional salmon might make its way that far upstream in the opening weeks it was the hard fished beats from Stoneywood to the sea which offered the best chance of a springer. As luck would have it, I began my working life in Mugiemoss papermill and that factory backed on to a short but very productive stretch of the river, including the famous Saugh pool. The Saugh had been created by a pair of weirs which were part of the scheme to provide vast quantities of water for the mill. These weirs also had the unintended effect of creating a thermal barrier for the migrating salmon. Fish swimming up-river would halt in the Saugh pool and wait there for the water to warm up before continuing their journey. Thus the pool would literally fill up with prime spring salmon.
For the weeks before opening day my fellow anglers and I would watch the pools to see if the fish were coming in. A four story building called the beaterhouse was where I often found myself working and on night shifts a huge security light shone down on to the pool. This was there for safety reasons but also to illuminate the whole pool to deter poachers. Not that the poachers took much notice and they were always very active at this time of the year. One night I recall being told to go and look out at the pool. Someone had seen some movement on the far bank and a few of us opened the door on the top floor of the beaterhouse to see a gang of poachers at work. They had equipped themselves with a very small dinghy which one of them had rowed across the fast flowing water, dragging a net behind him. The bold enterprise degenerated into farce though as the flashing blue lights of the local constabulary caused panic in their ranks. Someone let go of the rope which held the boat and it shot out of the tale of the pool, its occupant screaming blue murder as he disappeared into the white water and out of sight. We heard later there had been arrests and the unfortunate boatman had been recovered, soaked but alive some way downstream.
Most years we would see some salmon from our vantage point, the odd fish turning at the tail of the pool or a resounding splash as one showed in the neck. One season though we could not believe the number of fish that built up in the pool. It was like looking into a giant tin of sardines they were packed so closely together! There was a booking system for the fishing with only 3 rods allowed to fish on the whole beat at any one time. It was the second week of the season that year before I cast a line in the ‘Saugher’ and I managed a couple of fine springers but by then the shoal had largely dispersed.
The fishing itself was pretty ‘agricultural’ shall we say. This was not classic fly water by any stretch of the imagination. The mill owned the right-hand bank. The river poured over the two weirs (which were only 30 yards apart). A deep, fast neck of the pool dug in to the left bank and this had been strengthen by huge blocks of granite. The main current hugged the left bank and a big back-eddy was created on our side. The water was very deep in the middle of the pool and it shallowed as it flowed to the tail. The salmon lay in all areas of the pool depending on height. This was spinning water, pure and simple. In very high water the fishing was better from our side while in what would be classed as the best conditions the flow meant the opposition had the best of it. Strong gear was required and there was nothing subtle about the angling in the Saugh pool! Devon minnows and a wye lead 3 feet above it was the order of the day. The weight would range from 3/8ths to an ounce, depending on conditions. The bottom of the pool was very rough and as we all know, spring salmon fishing means scraping the bottom with your lure. Tackle losses were horrendous! It was nothing to lose 8 or 10 minnows in a session. Sometimes you might retrieve a minnow lost by another angler but it never made up for the immense losses. I used 20 pound breaking strain line but many anglers preferred 30 pound. This was long before Braid was on the market so this was thick, curly mono we were using.
A typical morning would start by signing in at the lodge. This was a security gatehouse where you solemnly wrote your name and angling club number down in a A4 hard-backed book. Pick up a key to the hut while you are there. The walk through the mill, dressed in waders and fishing coat, waving or chatting to fellow workers before descending into the bowels of the mill. Past the huge water pumps and out of the noise and smells of the mill by a door which led to a bridge over the lade (a lade is a man-made waterway for feeding water to a mill, its like a small canal). Down to the wooden shed which was used as the fishermen’s hut and open the door. Time to tackle up as the excitement rises within you. ‘The Opposition’ would be busy already on the other bank, two rods heaving their heavy tackle into the slack water at our side. What would they be like today? Sometimes there was great banter between both sides but there were often heater arguments too!
It is hard to describe what it felt like fishing the mill pools. The constant hum of the huge machines was only a few yards behind you so this no country ideal. The bed of the river was coated in thick, smelly, brown scum caused by generations of waste from the other mills upstream of Mugiemoss. Waste treatment in all the mills was rudimentary back then and the river stank, turned different colours and looked like an open sewer some days. The situation is much better now but back then it was amazing any fish at all could live in those conditions.
Two rods could fish at any one time on the Saugh from our side, a third rod could rotate or go and fish any of the other water. When it was your turn you started at the lower end of the neck and fished down, roughly one step per cast. The total fishable water was less than 100 yards in length. Cast square across, keep the bale arm open to let the bait sink as fast as possible, close the bail arm when you judged the minnow was near the bottom. Hold the rod high and let the minnow work around in the current until it was below you then wind in fast. You might change weight if you were sticking on the bottom or were too light and not feeling the ‘bump, bump’ of the lead/minnow on the rocks. ‘Stickers’ brought a fine array of cuss words and much tugging until the hooks pulled out, straightened under the pressure or the line snapped with a sound like an air rifle.
There was no mistaking it when a salmon took the bait. The rod hooped over and the reel screeched. ‘FUSH’ you would yell in your finest Doric dialect, indicating to the other rods they had to wind in to give you space to play the salmon. In such deep, strong flowing water a fresh salmon usually out up a terrific struggle. A large net was on hand but I often beached a fish on the fine golden sand bar near the tail of the pool. After reading Hugh Faulkus’s book I practiced hand tailing them too and really enjoyed that way of landing a salmon. With such a density of fish in a pool it was inevitable the odd fish would be foul-hooked and that led to some protracted battles. These days we release most of the fish we catch but it was not like that back in the 70’s. Any salmon landed were the property of the mill and had to be killed and handed over. I understand the fish were then sold. The fish were stored in a disused dog kennel near the lodge (they had a number of German Shepherds as security dogs).
Some days the opposition would completely out-fish us, their rods continually bent into another fish. There were days though when we could do no wrong and for whatever reason the fish preferred our baits. I have endless tales of derring-do from those far-off days. Some great characters fished there and got up to the height of nonsense. Huge catches, days when every single fish escaped, lads falling in, rows with the opposition, hip-flasks of whiskey to warm us up on freezing mornings, there was always something going on at down the Saugh pool.
It started fishing there back in 1976 (I joined the mill in May that year) and apart from one day many years later I didn’t fish it once I left Mugiemoss in 1981. During that time the mill water gave me a couple of 20 pounders, very many in the ‘teens and a host of smaller salmon to my rod. Now I look back on the killing of so many fine fish with regret but in those days we had not even heard of conservation. In our view, the bad guys were the netsmen who took a huge toll on the returning salmon. The nets have thankfully been bought out and anglers practice C&R but the salmon numbers continue to decline.
I don’t know who owns the fishing rights to the right bank of the Saugh these days. Granholm still have the left bank as far as I know. Mugiemoss mill shut down and the land cleared years ago. There are smart new house now where the massive machines used to rumble and thunder. With Covid-19 restrictions I doubt if any of us will see spring fishing in 2021 and the best we can hope for is we get access to some angling in the autumn. Our memories will need to tide us over for now and I have those in abundance!
After struggling through a tough week at work I am sitting here at the vice here making flies this weekend. For the past few days I have been battling with a computer which kept crashing, ‘Word’ that froze and ‘Excel’ which corrupted all my spreadsheets as I pulled together the documentation for a ISO45001 audit. Data was lost/corrupted every day and the whole thing was a nightmare culminating in a total melt down of the desktop on while in the middle of the audit itself on Friday. We scraped through but it was a stressful week. I could have really used a day out fishing this weekend but that was not to be. The 5km travel ban is still firmly in place here in Ireland so the best I can do is play some blues guitar and tie some more flies.
Normally I sit down to tie roughly similar flies. It might be a batch of spiders or maybe some shrimps for example but this weekend I just made what came into my head with no rhyme nor reason behind it. Sometimes it is nice to just go with the flow and see what happens.
My black winged olive. I tied this fly up years ago and it was a great pattern for the tail of a wet fly cast. Tippets for a tail, an olive seals fur body with gold rib, a black hen hackle and wings made from slips cut from crow or jackdaw flight feathers.
Coch spiders. Well, kinda! I prefer the paler Greenwell hackle for this pattern. Have not used these for ages but made a few up to try again. Tinsel tag (silver, gold or pearl), peacock herl body and long fibred greenwell hen hackle.
Blue Delphi. Usual pattern but with blue hackles to replace the normal black ones. sea trout like this one very much.
GRHE Bumble. A topping tail, hare’s ear/yellow seals fur mix (50/50) for the body with oval gold ribbing holding down a palmered red game hackle. A couple of turns of a yellow grizzle then three turns of a slightly longer blue grizzle hackle finish it off.
White IPN! Yes, I do make and use rainbow lures and this is as good as any in cold water. Not that I am likely to get the chance to use it anytime soon but I needed a few for the box. I use fire orange silk and leave some of it showing behind the bead in the hope it might suggest gills. White marabou and pearly tinsel chenille with a gold bead. Easy Peasy.
Rogan’s Extractor. Never a big catcher for me but it picks up the odd trout at mayfly time.
Let me see, what news do I have from around here? Delphi picked up their first and second salmon of the season last week. Obviously angling pressure is virtually nil but local rods had a nice wild springer and a rancher. My mate, Ben Baynes, has been elected to the chair of the East Mayo Anglers Association. This is a big job as the club have a lot of water and members. Wishing the big man every success in his new role. The weather is promised to be very cold this coming week so I guess we will just batten down the hatches for a while.
I try not to get involved in arguments about fishing. It is a gentle sport and no place for heated fights but if there is one subject guaranteed to raise hackles it is the choice of running line. Somewhat against my better judgement here are my own thoughts on the thorny subject.
I grew up in the era when there was only a very limited choice of line. Everyone used nylon, the only exception was sea anglers who used stuff called Dacron. Dacron has, rightly, been consigned to the dustbin of angling gear. It was not good mainly because it was so thick. I fished with for a few years back in the day but the claimed benefits of low stretch and good strength were comprehensively outweighed by the way it caught the tide and lifted you bait/lure off the bottom.
So nylon was your only option back in the 70’s and 80’s. Maxima was very popular with salmon anglers and while I caught more than my fair share of salmon it I switched to Stren when it came on the market. I don’t know if it is still available but I liked the golden yellow Stren and I can’t recall it ever letting me down. Then along came a new line – braid.
These days boat anglers are using braid more and more. Skippers generally hate the stuff as sorting out tangles with braid is the devils own work but some anglers love the bite detection and thinness of braid. I have used braid on my big multipliers for a few years now and aside from the afore mentioned tangle issue I find it excellent line. I still have nylon on my feathering reel though as constant jigging up and down seems to suit the stiffer nylon better.
I have flirted with braid on and off. I use it now on my trolling rods where I want strong line to cope with vicious takes and rough treatment when trying to prize baits from the bottom when they become snagged. Braid has been a godsend for this type of fishing and most of the other troll fishers I know swear by braid. By local standards I fish light with 30 pound braid on my trolling rods. Many of the lads use 70 pound! Would I go back to nylon for trolling? No, I don’t think I would. I have grown accustomed to braid and will stay with it from now on.
I have tried using braid on my spinning rods but have to admit I swapped back to nylon again. I didn’t enjoy casting with braid, it seemed to ‘dig in’ to the spool and any advantage I gained from low diameter was lost by the stickiness of it as it came off the spool during a cast. I reverted back to 15 pound nylon for my salmon fishing and have not regretted it (so far).
I wish I could say I like using the modern co-polymers, fluorocarbons, etc but in truth I have no faith in them. I have a habit of giving my line or trace a sharp tug before using it and when I did this with those ‘double strength’ and other new products they snapped in my hands. The only one I like is ‘Riverge’ which is horribly expensive but is an excellent product. I often see visiting anglers using extremely long fluorocarbon leaders when fishing the local loughs, maybe around 20 feet or more in length. This might be required on English stillwaters but I doubt they will bring you many additional trout here in Ireland. I personally use nylon for most of my leaders and am happy to stick to that. Many of the top anglers around here use a nine foot leader made out of 8 pound nylon!
Looking at my filled reels here is what is on them right now:
Both ABU Ambassadeur 7000’s – 20 pound nylon. Used for shore fishing
Daiwa PM9000H Fixed spool – 20 pound nylon. As above
ABU Ambassadeur 6500C – 18 pound nylon. As above
Winfield multipliers x 6 – 18 pound nylon. As above
ABU Ambassadeur 10000C – 50 pound braid. Used for boat fishing.
Penn Del Mar – 20 pound nylon. Used for feathering mackerel from the boat.
ABU Ambassadeur 4500CB, 5500C, 5000D’s and 6000’s – 30 pound braid. All used for piking, trolling etc.
Light fixed spools – mainly 6 pound nylon but lighter lines on some coarse fishing reels
Baitcasting reels – 6 pound nylon
Looking at that list there is obviously some rationalisation required. The 20 pound nylon on the big beachcasting reels is a hangover from a bulk spool I bought a while back. Similarly the 10 pound nylon I have habitually filled my 3500 series fixed spools could be upgraded to 15 pound to simplify things a little. The minor loss of distance would not be a big issue for me.
I have gravitated to braid on my trolling and boat fishing multipliers and nylon for everything else. I didn’t set out to do this, it just grew organically over time as I tried different options and ended where I am today. This may not suit everyone but it seems to work for me and I am happy to keep going like this.
For a few weeks now there have been rumors circulating in the county of strange goings-on in the cold waters of Clew Bay. The lockdown has meant that very few people can see what was allegedly happening but the reports were pretty consistent. Explosions of bait fish were to be seen, obviously being chased by predators. but what could the mysterious winter visitors be? Dolphins some people said but others were not convinced.
Today a good and trusted friend showed me a couple of video clips. He wouldn’t share how he came by them but it was very obvious where they were taken, from the salmon farm in Clew bay. There were two clips, each a few minutes in duration and of high quality. One was taken from a boat and the other was shot underwater. In both you can clearly see the culprits who have been harrying the bait. Tuna.
We all know that Tuna visit Irish waters and some specialist boats go out fishing for them. I have not heard of the tuna coming into the bay before now though. I have tried to upload both the clips here but so far only the underwater one has uploaded (I will keep trying). While it is wonderful to see these majestic fish it is heart-breaking to know they will soon be dead. The Japanese tuna fishing fleet is just off the coast, ready to sweep up the fish when they move slightly offshore. For now, they are feeding hard on small fish, probably sprats or herring fry. Why can’t we just leave these amazing creatures alone?