Chuck and chance it

With five weeks to fish on the river Spey, you’d think you would have at least one day with decent conditions; not so, rues Arthur Oglesby

It is generally accepted that May brings those ideal conditions for salmon fishing with the greasedline fly. I have just returned from five weeks on the Spey. It could be reasoned that, during those five weeks, there would be at least one day when all the signs of the zodiac would be in their correct orbit and we should have those ideal conditions for taking salmon on the small fly.

Most experienced salmon anglers know the type of day I mean. A nice falling river with water temperatures in the low 50s. A mild, humid day with odd bursts of sunshine. Good hatches of natural flies to induce the trout to move actively and the occasional sight of a settled salmon doing a lazy, porpoise-like, head-and-tail rise.

It is sadly true, however, that during the entire period I was on Speyside, there was never a day which matched my full requirements. There were periods of days when conditions seemed near perfect and it was at those times when I caught my fish.

The bulk of my time was to be spent in teaching others to fish. There were few entire days when I could fish the whole time. Instead, I had to be content with an odd hour snatched at the end of the day or a brief period around lunchtime. On arrival at Speyside, the weather was far from congenial. Water temperatures were in the low 40s; freshly laid snow covered the nearby Cairngorms and the odd snow flurries and biting winds did little to induce me to try the fly. The river was running high from the melting snow on the lower slopes and the fish — what little there was to see of them — were all running.

Fine fish

Under these conditions I feel at a distinct disadvantage. Were I to go fishing with a complete novice, who had reasonable casting ability, I would think that we should have equal chances of catching fish. Undoubtedly fish would be caught and, in fact, were caught. My wife hooked and landed a fine fish of 9lb on her very first day on the water; but it was very much a chuck and chance it game and I had little inclination to wet a line for the first two weeks.

Sufficient fish were being caught to indicate that, when the river settled, there would be good stocks. But the river continued to rise and fall with the vagaries of the weather and it must have been a little frustrating for the experienced salmon anglers on the water to have their eyes wiped by the locals or the complete novices.

The local, of course, will always score under such conditions. He knows the lies for every height of water and can pitch a worm or a spinner in the most likely place to take a fish. One man whom I watched,

when the river was 2ft above normal height, did nothing else but run a worm down the edge of the current at his feet. In the short space of a few hours he took three fine salmon.

By the beginning of the third week things began to look more promising. Some friends had arrived who had taken a private beat on the Castle Grant water and then, to our great dismay, a general thaw arrived and the tons of snow on the Cairngorms began to melt. The river rose yet again to nearly 3ft above normal height.

By the end of the week the river was still too high for ideal conditions but, by diligent spinning, my friends had taken a goodly number of fish. When I joined them on the Friday I was able to add another two fish to their bag and yet another nice fish on the afternoon on the following day. They finished the week with a grand total of 21 salmon and at last the river was beginning to fall.

Promising

Throughout the whole of the fourth week the river was still too high for ideal greased-line fishing, but we managed the odd fish by continued spinning. It was not until the following Friday — when I was to have a day on Lady Seafield’s private water — that conditions looked promising for the fly. The private water at Castle Grant consists of three magnificent pools, Polwick, Dunbar and March. Many experienced anglers regard Polwick as one of the finest pools on the Spey and at my first sight of it, it would have been difficult to discard their contention. It is one of those natural holding pools that can be fished without wading above the knees.

It is the unwritten law to fish it only with the fly. I had hardly extended my casts to the limit I was to fish when a lively salmon took the No6 homemade Jeannie I had on the leader. It was my first salmon on the fly this year and it fought with all the dash and vigour of a fresh-run salmon. When I hand-tailed it out at the edge of a sandy bay, it gleamed like a bar of silver and the sea lice were still on it.

I elected to stay on Polwick for the rest of the day. It is one of those pools which may be fished time after time without apparent disturbance to the resident fish. A troublesome cold wind seemed to take the edge off my enthusiasm and it was not until 4.30pm that conditions came more to my liking. Into the pool once more and I was suddenly into another fish, which I was also able to tail out at the same sandy bay. A handsome brace they made and I called it a day.

Fly water

During the early part of the fifth week the river was looking more like a fly water. It was still fractionally high for ideal conditions, but fish were responding much better to the fly.

Fish continued to be caught on the spinner, so there was still that element of chuck and chance it.

By Friday, however, the river looked inviting for the fly and I alternated with fly and spinner down one of the best pools on the beat. Strange to say I got no response to my fly, though other members of the party had great success.

Five weeks on a stretch of river during late April and May should at least have given me one day when conditions were perfect. Instead I had to be content with odd periods of a day when fish were inclined to move. For my five days’ full fishing and the odd hour snatched, I managed a total of nine salmon landed and one fish lost. About half were taken on the spinner and the other half on fly, but there was no formula to it.

The river may have been right on the following week or conditions may have changed so suddenly to bring too bright a sun or some other factor to mitigate against the perfect day.

“Polwick is one of those holding pools that can be fished without wading above the knees”

This article was first published in the 13 June 1970 issue of Shooting Times.

“It could be reasoned that during five weeks, there would be at least one day when conditions would be perfect”

“The first salmon that was caught on the fly fought with the dash and vigour of a fresh-run salmon”

“A general thaw arrived and the river rose yet again to nearly 3ft above normal height”