Daddycool
IT’S always gratifying to “crack the code” on a difficult day’s fishing.
Especially if everyone else on the water has a blank – including two of your pals.
With the river out of sorts (again) we headed out to the Carman fishery in the hills west of Glasgow.
It’s a well-stocked loch of a manageable size with varied terrain, a bit of tree cover if the wind’s a problem and friendly, knowledgeable staff to keep you right.
The three of us had all had good sport there before with fine rainbows and blues coming to the net – one guy even caught a 6lb-plus tiger trout on his first visit.
But some days, they’re just not having it. And this was one of those days.
We’d set off in torrential rain and over four hours we got more squalls, blustery winds in all directions, flat calm and blazing sunshine.
We turned to the locals for advice. “They’re on the top, little CDCs will do the trick.”
Spotting a few large dark olives in the air, I put on an olive shuttlecock, olive F-fly and an olive Klinkhammer.
No dice, and as the hours ticked by I swapped them for different sizes and colours, all to no avail. Despite being told lures wouldn’t work, I tried a few on an intermediate line. Not so much as a touch.
Meanwhile, the other eight guys fishing that day were working through their own fly boxes. Buzzers, diawl bachs, boobies, blobs, hoppers – you name it, we tried it. And still no fish.
I had my back to the wind and a wooded area, hoping the trout would be feeding on insects blowing off the trees.
I’d seen the odd rise in one patch of water and kept putting dries over them but as the last hour came up, I was running out of options.
The fun only started when I put a foam-bodied daddy long-legs on the point.
I had a savage take on about my third cast but the fish abruptly came off.
When it started flinging itself out of the water, I knew I’d left a fly in its mouth.
Sure enough, the daddy was broken off, so I quickly tied on another as the sky darkened and it started pouring again.
Another strong take on the daddy followed and one good fight later, I had a rainbow pushing 4lb on the bank.
This fish – a long, slim trout – was followed in fairly short order by another nearer the 3lb mark, this one short and thick with a huge belly.
The second fish was the better catch because I’d seen it and cast ahead of it and, up until we left, they were the only fish caught that day.
Now I don’t lay claim to any great skill here. Usually it’s me who blanks. The moral is simple – persistence pays.
Oh, and lads – get it right round ye.