I had a crap day yesterday. Yes, I did get to do a bit of fishing (eventually), but boy was it hard work just getting finding a few fish. I guess we all have days like this but my orderly little life has largely shielded me from difficulties like this.
I had a solid plan to fish over in Keshcarrigan in Leitrim and was really looking forward to trying my luck at the marina there. It has been a dependable if unspectacular venue for me over the years and I have not yet fished it so far in 2026, so Wednesday felt like a good time to right that particular wrong. Stuff to be done around the house delayed my departure, but I was on the road by 8.40am, pushing through the misty rain in town and on to the N5. All was normal until I reached the village of Ballyvary where a Garda jeep was parked across the road and a burly officer was directing all traffic into the village. There was a lengthy delay as drivers stopped to query why they had to leave the main road and where the hell this diversion was going to take them. I knew full well that there were no roads which would rejoin the N5 anytime soon, but resigned myself to following instructions and the serpentine trail of brake lights in front of me. Only a hundred yards beyond the village the traffic ground to a dead halt and would remain like that for the next thirty minutes. Finally, the queue moved at a snails pace and wound on until I could see the source of the problem in the distance. The national school is between the villages of Ballyvary and Keeloges and here the school run had descended into farce. Cars could not get in to drop off their kids fast enough to prevent a tailback which now stretched for miles. I watched as each car would stop, the kids got out and messed about with bags etc, sometimes with parents getting out to pat little Johnnie on the head or adjust little Mary’s coat. Finally, I got past the carnage and drove off down the road in exactly the opposite direction from the one I intended. Exiting on to the N60 at Manulla, I felt drained already and was still only 5 miles from my front door despite nearly an hour on the road. Options to get to Carrick-on-Shannon and then on to Keshcarrigan were not great and I nearly turned back for home. Instead, I ditched Leitrim and made for Claremorris to try the lakes there.
The journey to Claremorris passed without incident and I pitched up in the nearly empty car park in a sharp shower of cold rain. Selecting just the 11 foot float road, I marched off along the path to my ‘usual’ stand on Clare lake. Water levels had gone down since my last visit and I was able to get on to the floating stand as normal. Once ensconced on the wobbly platform I set up with a waggler and baited up with double red maggot on a size 16 barbless, fished hard on the bottom of 6 feet of dirty brown water. The weather could not make up its mind what it was going to do. Flat calm gave way to blustery squalls, blue skies were interspersed with menacing black clouds. I fed balls of ground bait and loosed fed casters and red maggots over that. Now the pains of the driving were behind me I could settle into catching a few silvers……..
Clare Lake has been good to me in the past but today it showed a different side. Not so much as a nibble to my daintily presented maggots. Same went for the worm I tried. Maybe the depth was my problem? I shortened the drop and fished through the water column from a couple of feet right back down to over depth, giving myself a few casts before making a 6 inch change to the float. All this fiddling about came to naught and the day seemed to be going from bad to worse. Showers rattled through, adding to the sense of hopelessness. It was after midday by now and with the day slipping away I felt I needed to make a move.
I went back to the car via the wooden bridge where I had winkled out a few roach in the high water on my last visit here. The stream was back to its usual few inches deep but I tried to trot it anyway since I was there. No good and not so much as a nibble here either. I continued on back to the car where I swapped the 11 footer for my 13 foot match rod. This was important as Clare lake is easy to fish with the shorter rod due to its shallow depth. Mayfield lough on the other had is a good 12 feet deep, hence the change of weapon. Over the road and along the gravel path under a sky the colour of a robins egg I strode, a man on a mission! All the floating stands were empty. I had the whole lough to myself, but would I be able to work any magic on this day of disasters?
For some reason it seemed to take me for ever to get set up on the first pontoon on the west side. Maybe it was just my imagination but the relatively simple processes of setting up two rods went on for much longer than it should. Eventually, I had the little winkle picker out with a small feeder and a worm on a size 14 hook. A while later the 13 footer was rigged with a waggler and a 4 pound hooklength to a size 16 barbless decorated with a pair of red maggots. Setting the float to fish on the bottom, I fed the swim about three rod lengths out, using the last of the ground bait I had with me. After that, I pinged n a steady stream of maggots and casters, a few with every cast. A strong undertow was pushing water up the lake, making my float move steadily from my right to left side on each cast. By now I was seriously doubting my own abilities and for half an hour it felt like any fish in this lough were doing their best to affirm those sentiments. No bites here, just like it had been on Clare lake. Gritting my teeth I fished on, consoling myself in the knowledge it was grand just to be out in the fresh air.
When it came, the first bite was a miserable affair, the float very slowly sliding under as if the hook had snagged on the bottom. I lifted into something tiny and out came a vary small, but never the less blank saving, perch. OK, that was progress; maybe I was pulling a few fish into the swim now and my mood brightened accordingly. Not too long after that initial minor success the float was once again pulled under, this time by a nice 6 ounce roach. After that the catching picked up and a steady string of perch and roach kept me both busy and happy. I had landed a dozen or so fish before the first skimmer arrived, again a small fish but it was nice to see the immature bream joining in the fun. I have found it typical of a days coarse fishing hereabouts, the perch show up first followed by roach and a while later the skimmers come a long.
The Claremorris lakes are productive but the fish are small. It would be nice to think there was a chance of a good bream or roach but in practice anything over half a pound is killed by the fishmonger brigade for consumption or sale. Left alone, these rich waters are capable of producing excellent fish but I doubt we will ever return to that situation. Once in the groove, I was getting some sort of response with virtually every cast now. The perch all but disappeared and skimmers vied with roach for the red maggots on my hook. Activity slowed after an hour but I had done well during that spell. A heavy shower soaked everything and with bites diminishing I figured it was time to bring the session to an end. Waiting until the rain stopped as suddenly as it had arrived, I hurriedly packed up the gear and headed back to the car.
The final tally was 8 perch, 18 roach and 13 skimmers, none of them greater than half-a-pound in weight. It had been a case of perseverance over skill on my part. On another day I would have just turned back and had the day at home, but in the end I am glad I fished the Claremorris lakes instead. The storms which are due to arrive later today and continue for days to come will confine me to quarters and that gave me the determination to fish for a few few hours. The total lack of action on Clare lake is worrying. Has there been another spill from the water treatment plant in the recent high water? A few small fish were topping out in the middle and I could see no signs of dead fish in the margins, so I am probably being too pessimistic. I’ll put it down to just an off day due to the big changes in water levels.
The cause of the road closure at Ballyvary turned out to be a fatal traffic accident in the early hours of Monday night. It is sobering to realise how fragile life is, one minute you are just doing something normal and the next it is all over for you.
