Eelmeetagain

IT’S a rare day when you wish you hadn’t gone fishing.

Last week, with a bit of time off, I ventured out for a cast on my local river.

The water was high (again) and I didn’t hold out much hope. But when I arrived at my favourite pool, sure enough, there was a salmon showing at the best “lie”.

Now, he’d been in a while and wasn’t going to be easy to tempt. Then again, the high tide had just turned and there was a chance he was leaping about because he’d been bumped off his spot by a fresh fish.

I’d an eight-weight switch rod with me and put some flies over him. All sorts of flies, from every angle and at all depths, until I’d lashed the water to a fine cappuccino.

No joy, so I headed up the river to suss out other options. I’d taken a wee threeweight out in case the trout were rising.

But the water was cold and there was a bit of east in the wind and I didn’t see a single brownie until dusk.

It was clear there was no fish bonanza in the offing but I persevered, casting mainly red flies over all the likely spots.

Even the secret weapon KIRKCALDY angler Cameron Spears started fly fishing as a boy then spent many happy years as a coarse angler before “coming home” in the last few months.

And it paid off when he landed this 15lb rainbow – the biggest trout of his life – on a black humongous at Parkview.

Congratulations, Cameron. You will shortly be receiving your fantastic prize courtesy of top tackle-makers Daiwa, our Fish of the Week sponsors. that did so well on the Tweed a couple of weeks ago was ignored, however.

As the evening wore on, thoughts turned to dinner and maybe a wee drink. Maybe two.

Heading home past my favourite pool, I stopped to see if my fishy pal was still putting on a show.

As I sat quietly by the water, a mink I’d seen a few times before popped out on a half-sunk log and started washing itself like there was no tomorrow. Why so fastidious, I couldn’t imagine – until it dipped back into the water and pulled out a very dead eel far bigger than the mink itself.

It swam across the pool just a few feet in front of me with the slain leviathan in its mouth.

It wasn’t hard to imagine the epic struggle the eel had put up before the mink won the day. Eels are hard to kill.

And if you’ve ever handled one, you’ll know why the mink had ended up a bit.. well, minky.

I went home knackered and fishless, but happy.

Then a pal called to see if I’d go down the coast for sea trout early the next morning.

I told him I was too tired – and I bitterly regretted it when he later told me he’d caught five fish that day, the best of them a hefty 7lb.

Of course, it turned out the lying swine was just winding me up and he hadn’t even got out of his bed.

But see if we HAD gone – you just never know...