Tales of woe

I was amused to read Tom Adams’ account of the highs and lows of salmon fishing at Soval estate on the Isle of Lewis [Letters, October issue]. One of my most treasured possessions is a letter from that fine fisherwoman

Molly Hide, telling me about her tales of woe on one particular day: “I hooked a salmon late that morning on Loch Valtos and after yelling at Donald to row (he was sitting mesmerised with his oars in the air) I was playing the salmon happily when, would you believe it, a blooming sea-trout took my dropper with the result that I caught the sea-trout (1½lb) and lost the salmon. Then, in the afternoon, what a terrible saga. I was fishing the bottom pool of the River Laxay using my old and faithful trout rod when I hooked a fish, which I played for a few minutes before it suddenly took off at 50mph up the pool. I clambered over the bank and rough ground… and got the fish under control again. When the fish was ready I found a suitable place to beach it. I got three-quarters of the salmon on the bank when, wait for it, there was an almighty crack… and my rod broke near the butt, the line slackened, the fly came out and the fish gave one very weak flip but sufficient for it to slide back into the water… It just shows you can never count on catching a fish until it is at your feet.”

Graham Riddick Tunbridge Wells, Kent