Booking back-end salmon days
Stunning autumn scenery, fickle conditions and fiesty fish combine to provide a fresh and exciting challenge as the season draws to a close
Sir Johnny Scott finishes the season with autumn colour and feisty fish
The transition from summer to autumn always seems so clearly defined in September. For the first couple of weeks, the countryside still has the heavy verdancy of summer and I have often sat on the edge of a marsh at the start of the wildfowling season waiting for the afternoon tide flight surrounded by gnats, the soporific sound of a combine harvester rumbling in the field behind me. By the middle of the month, daylight is half an hour later, the temperature has dropped, summer migrants – swifts, swallows, house martins – have disappeared. The first equinoctial storms strip the flowers off heather, hedgerows fill with ripening berries, the edges of leaves on broad-leaf trees turn yellow, bracken fronds begin to dry and curl up, grouse start to pack and salmon move through to the upper beats to spawn.
There is something utterly magical about fishing for an autumn salmon as the end of
the season approaches, mist lies on the water in the early mornings, leaves are changing colour, there is still a hint of purple on the hills and scarlet berries hang on rowan trees. As the muggy, leaden days of summer draw to a close bringing strong September winds and associated increased rainfall, river levels rise significantly. The scent of fresh water encourages salmon from around the coastal estuaries to swim inland to spawn in their natal rivers and there is no more exciting or magnificent sight than a glittering silver fish porpoising joyfully up river. Tragically, the autumn run of fresh fish coming into our rivers on every tide has dropped dramatically over the past four decades, the cause of which the Atlantic Salmon Trust and its scientists are desperately working to identify and reverse, but back-end fishing even for a gravid fish can still be the highlight of the season.
With the breeding season approaching, a cock fish gradually changes into his autumn
livery, particularly gravid fish that have been in fresh water all summer. The skin thickens and becomes leathery, whilst the greater part of the flanks turn to a deep, coppery red, with grey and yellow on the belly giving him the soubriquet of “soldier” up here in the Borders. As fat reserves will be low now, the arch of the back collapses and the body loses depth; the snout grows considerably longer and the lower jaw acquires a distinctive upturned hook or kype, which in some cases becomes so pronounced it protrudes above the corresponding recess in the upper jaw. This purely male characteristic seems to have no real function except, perhaps, as a visual deterrent to other males; it is useless as a weapon of attack or defence and prevents the jaw from closing, nor is it any use in constructing the spawning redds among gravel, as this is done exclusively by the hen fanning her tail. Whilst cock fish undergo a radical transformation, hens gradually become a dark grey colour with traces of
purple and blue along their flanks and gill covers, remaining otherwise little altered except for a steady expansion of the abdomen as the spawning season progresses and their wombs fills with ova.
fresh tactics
An entirely different set of tactics is required from the previous couple of months for back-end fishing: more than at any other time of the season rods must be adaptable and prepared to adjust flies and lines to the fickle behaviour of fish or conditions, which may change overnight. The early-morning or late-evening sorties armed with light gear after fish in search of oxygen-rich, fast runs, or attempts to seduce the lazy ones trapped
in pools with low warm water, are a thing of the past. A heavy fall of rain on parched ground up in the hills after a dry summer will cause a raging spate and the associated drop in temperature causes a frenzy of activity, especially in pools where fish are lying in decent numbers. A rising spate is full of debris, river trash and possibly soil from early ploughing, but once this has cleared fish will be in exuberant spirits, keen to move up stream and so a falling spate is the perfect time to fish.
During the spawning migration up river, both cock and hen fish become aggressive and territorial, snapping at anything that intrudes. Unless you hit an unseasonal period of low water, you should expect
to fish with a sinking line of a density determined by the depth of water and power of flow. There are several options regarding types of line available nowadays and it really depends on personal preference and conditions on the day. A skagit line is easy to cast if you are fishing from a boat; spey lines are preferred by people who like a long-bellied line that does not need to be retrieved so far in before recasting; and a shooting head system is nice to handle and adaptable to most conditions. As with everything connected with fly fishing, there are endless permutations but the ultimate aim is to frustrate otherwise reluctant fish into an aggressive response by invading their territory and getting a fly deeper and closer to them.
It goes without saying that if fish are going to see a fly in water stained by sediment, it needs to be coloured, with red, yellow and orange being particularly irresistible at this time of year. Among fishermen’s tales there is the no doubt apocryphal story of a rod eating an orange and a fish striking a piece of the peel tossed into the water. There are plenty of modern flies to choose from: Big Red Francis, Super Snaelda Red and Gold copper tube, or a Jock’s Shrimp to name a few are all good high-water autumn flies, but so too are some of the old, tried and tested traditional ones. The Jock Scott, invented by and named after Lord John
Scott’s gillie when he took the Makerstoun beat on the Tweed in 1850, is still a killing fly. No fly box is complete without the famous Willy Gunn, a hairwing version of a Thunder and Lightning, named after the Countess of Sutherland’s gillie on the Brora. Originally intended for spring fish, it soon became recognised as the most successful hairwing pattern ever tied for autumn salmon. Then there is the historic Collie Dog. I remember vividly my father in the rod room of the Oykel Bridge Hotel at the end of September
back in the mid 1950s, holding up a fly with silver body, long black hair – now goat hair, but originally a sheep dog’s – red throat and hackles, and saying: “When all else fails, my boy, there is always the Collie Dog.”
single hooks
Any fish caught are going to be released and rods will be using single hooks as they are much easier to extract than doubles or trebles. For a basic rule of thumb, water volumes determine the weight of fly: the bigger
the water the bigger the fly and different tackle is needed for fish moving between pools after a spate. Fish tend to travel close to the bank, taking the easy route upstream by avoiding powerful flows in sometimes comparatively shallow water, where one might have stood to fish a few weeks previously. Alternatively, they lie in sheltered resting spots off the main current at the tail of a pool, smooth flows or shelf at an incoming
stream. They are extremely territorial in these often gravelly runs, where they use the up current to keep them steady, and an intermediate line with sink tip to dangle a fly in front of them is ideal for this sort of water. Small flies tied on a size 8 to 10 hook with colour and movement for stained, murky water: a Stinchar Stoat, perhaps, with a gold body for a bit of sparkle; the ubiquitous Ally’s Shrimp; an Aurora Cascade; or an old favourite, the Garry Dog. For clearer water, a silver bodied Green Flee, a Yellow and Black Monkey or perhaps a Silver Stoat – early flies that have done me well during the back end
and have activated the angry response one wants. On overcast days, the natural fluorescence in a fly with a bit of white in it – whether a traditional jungle cock or a modern copper tube Black and White Snaelda, dropped over a known salmon lie and moved slowly from side to side will invariably annoy a fish enough to trigger an attack reflex.
Back-end fishing quickly disappears. The season for Scottish rivers such as the Borgie
and Naver, Helmsdale, Spey, Shin, Oykel, Aberdeenshire Dee; the Southern Irish rivers and, in England, the Dart and Exe are among those that close on 30 September. More, such as the Brora, Ness, Tay and its tributaries in Scotland, the Tamar and Eden in England and most of Welsh rivers close on or about the middle of October. The vast majority of the rest close at the end of the month, except the Annan and Irvine, which close on 15 November and the Nith, Urr and mighty Tweed on the 30th with the Cornish rivers, the Fal, Looe, Camel and Fowey closing on 15 December.
How best to organise some back-end fishing, if one doesn’t have a juicy invitation from some kindly owner of a stretch of water? Whether you are hoping to fish one of the big four or any of the smaller rivers throughout the UK and Ireland, online booking, advisory and information service Fishpal is the place to start. Fishpal has fishing available on hundreds of fisheries with 200,000 rod days through the season and plenty in the back end to suit all budgets, with a network of gillies, guides and river managers providing daily information on river levels, and what fish were caught when and where. They can book guides and instructors, hire tackle or Wheelyboats for disabled fishermen, provide links to accommodation and rod alerts to tell you if fishing is available where you hope to go – and there is always an expert contactable by telephone. Where would I go if I had the choice? Somewhere on the North Tyne, preferably the Haughton Castle Beat. The valley is stunning in autumn and the Tyne now indubitably the best salmon river south of the Border, a quite remarkable conservation triumph when one considers how dreadfully polluted it once was.
Fish tend to travel close to the bank, taking the easy route upstream