FIGHTING OVER FISH

In 2018, I was prompted by a letter in The Field to write of an experience on the Rangitikei on the North Island of New Zealand when a brown trout of about 5lb grabbed the modest rainbow I was playing. In the event, after a while, the brown let go and I landed a rather battered rainbow.

I had a similar experience on 20 September this year. I was playing a grilse of about 4lb in Bruce’s pool on the River Borgie, Sutherland. I was in the process of beaching the fish on a shallow gravel bank, standing a few yards back from the water. The fish was emerging from the water, and had things gone as planned, I am confident that I would have unhooked it and returned it safely to the river. But such was not the case. Immediately behind the grilse emerged an otter, which grabbed the fish and swam off with it across and down the pool. Given that the hook held fast and that the otter showed no inclination to release its grip on the grilse, I was now playing both an otter, which can weigh up to 26lb, and the grilse.

Having reached the bottom of the pool, the otter, demonstrating commendable intelligence, turned and swam upstream, close to the opposite bank. It then disappeared under a willow, which lay flat on the surface of the pool. Here it stopped and I realised, with my leader emerging from a mass of branches, that the game was over. Maximum pressure applied caused the cast to snap and I never saw the otter nor the grilse again.

The return of the otter to our rivers and shores in significant numbers has been extremely welcome and a sighting adds much to one’s enjoyment of a day’s fishing, although not all coarse fishers would agree