River Tay - From Siamese carp to salmon in 48 hours!
After around twenty minutes, the long surging runs were beginning to take their toll on me more than fish in the forty-five degree heat. Thankfully the fish did, however, appear to be tiring. Finally, we got a glimpse. It was huge silver looking carp with bright big silvery scales and a large protruding mouth. Quite alien looking to any salmon fisherman! I finally managed to get the fish close to the bank and the guide expertly netted it. After weighing the fish and taking a quick photograph, it was released. It was a fifty-two pound Siamese carp and my biggest freshwater fish.
The weird but wonderful Siamese Carp
We were doing some lake fishing in Thailand and both my wife and I had caught a number of weird and wonderful species that day. It was the last day of our four-week holiday around South East Asia. We had travelled to Sri Lanka, the Maldives and then Thailand. We had done a lot of fishing through the course of the holiday and caught a number of nice fish including Giant Trevally, Dorado, Snapper to mention a few and some of them were caught on the fly. We were going home the next day, back to Scotland to face freezing temperatures and the holiday blues!
Prior to going on holiday, I had already booked a day's salmon fishing for the day after we got home on the Dalmarnock beat of the River Tay. My wife thought I was mad, as I would have probably been jetlagged and shattered. On the last leg of the fifteen-hour flight, it dawned on me that she might have been right. I did not admit this though!
On Saturday morning, I lay in my bed wide-awake, at 3am. I could not get back to sleep. We had arrived in Glasgow the day before and gone to bed as soon as we got home, which was a mistake. As my wife had predicted, I was suffering from the dreaded jetlag. To say I was not very enthusiastic about going fishing that morning was a bit of an understatement. I did however put on a front, saying to my wife that I was fresh, feeling fine and raring to go. She did not appear to be convinced!
It was the last day of February and the weather had been quite unsettled prior to us coming back from our holiday. There had been some snow, which had melted and river levels on the Tay had been fluctuating. The quality of fish being caught from the river was superb with a number of great specimens being landed that week. The weather was set to be wet for the day. The forecast was for light patchy rain in the morning, which was set to become heavier through the afternoon, with a temperature of just five degrees. Just slightly cooler than what I had been use too!
The Dalmarnock beat is a fantastic middle Tay beat. It is the longest beat on the River Tay and has an abundance of pools, which vary greatly in character. This allows the beat to fish well in all heights of water. The beat has some nice pools for fly-fishing as well as good spinning and harling water. There is good vehicular access, with a track running along the entire lower half of the beat. The charming hut has a wood-burning stove and is very cosy in the cold days of spring. The beat is under new management, with Colin Mcfadyen at the helm. Colin has vast experience when it comes to salmon fishing and has ghillied on the beat in the past as well as many other Tay beats. His enthusiasm is truly infectious and his knowledge is second to none. The Dalmrnock beat produced the first salmon in the UK this season, which was quite a mean feet.
Looking downstream towards the Oak tree pool
As soon as I got out of the car the icy wind hit me in the face like a brick. I walked briskly over to the hut not wishing to brave the elements any longer than I had to and into the warmth of the hut. Colin was there, coffee already made, with a big smile on his face. He said, “We will get him today!” Normally when Colin utters those words it fills me with confidence but because of the jetlag and cold weather I was less animated! The water was high but at a good height for the beat. I had booked the boat and conditions were ideal for harling. Unfortunately, the river was rising slightly after some overnight rain and snowmelt. There was another angler also fishing the beat. It was great to have a chat over coffee about how the season had been so far.
Colin was keen to start fishing so after putting on seven layers of clothing; I was ready to go! The boat was ready with the rods built up and outboard motor running. We were fishing a yellow Kynoch Killer a blue and silver Tomic lure and a Yozurri on the fly rod. Colin allowed me to choose a lure I fancied for the fourth rod. I chose my favourite Vision110, the Western Clown. My wife had already caught a salmon on opening day with this lure and we normally fight over who is going to use it, when we fish together! The water was looking enticing and looking down the beat at the pools, I began to feel a tinge of excitement running down my spine.
We went upstream from the hut to harl the Red braes pool. The Red Braes pool is a small pool by Tay standards. It fishes well at most heights of water and has a tantalising narrow channel at the head of the pool. The pool then widens out, with the main body of the pool having a good even flow. It has gained a reputation for producing big salmon over the years. We covered every inch of the pool sweeping back and forth with the boat to no avail. Colin then had an idea. He wanted to anchor up the boat at the head of the Fernie Haugh pool in a slow deep pocket. The water did look ideal once we had anchored up. We were fishing a deep pocket of water, with a nice uniform flow. This was just above some fast water and looked an ideal resting place for a fish that just negotiated the rapids below. I fished hard making a number of casts with my Vision110 lure, but the fish appeared to be playing hard to get!
It was almost 11 am by now and my body was getting accustomed to the weather. We then moved downstream to fish the Inch pool. This is a cracking pool and again the water is made for a spring salmon. It is very deep and slow on the far bank. The pool has a nice uniform flow and at the tail of the pool a small burn runs into the river. I have caught a number of fish from this pool throughout the year and it was looking in good order. We harled every inch of the pool with the same lures as we were using before. We did not even get a pull from a kelt. The rain had now started falling lightly. Colin suggested we fish the Sowerby pool before lunch.
Sowerby is a fantastic pool to fish. It produces fish all year round and in most heights of water. It has a reputation for producing big salmon. The beauty of the pool is that a long cast is not required as the majority of the fish lie close to the bank, sometimes no more than a rods length away. The pool has a narrow neck, which has quite a deep channel running close to the bank, where most of the fish lie.
We started harling at the head of the pool. Sweeping back and forth in the boat covering every inch of the water. The inside rod was only inches away from the bank and the lures were fishing almost underneath the bank itself. Looking down into the dark waters of the mighty Tay, you could appreciate how deep the channel was. Even only being a couple of feet from the bank there was still no sign of the riverbed. Colin and I had been harling for around ten minutes putting the world to rights, when suddenly from the corner of my eye I saw the inside rod buckle around and stay buckled. I shouted to Colin excitedly who told me to wait. It felt like an eternity before Colin instructed me to pick up the rod, but Colin just wanted to make sure that the fish was well hooked. The fish immediately came up to the surface and we could tell it was a good fish. Colin brought in all the other rods. Unsurprisingly the fish had taken my Vision 110 Western Clown. Colin slowly brought the boat into the bank and the salmon followed in quite a civilised manner.
The fight!
Once we got to the bank, the fish forgot about being civil, as all hell broke loose. The fish surged strongly downstream using the current to its advantage stripping line from the reel at will. It was clear that it was a hefty fish. I managed to put the brakes on by tightening the drag ever so slightly. For the next five minutes a game of cat and mouse ensued. The fish would slowly but purposefully swim downstream and then I would gradually bring it back towards the boat. Around ten minutes into the fight we got our second glimpse of the fish on the surface. It was an absolute belter and a silver bar of perfection. My adrenaline was pumping and suddenly all the effects of jetlag were forgotten. After another two runs towards the far bank, the fish began to tire. I managed to bring the fish close to the bank and get its head up on the surface. I began steering the fish towards Colin, who was waiting with the net in hand. The fish must have only been a couple of feet from the net when it turned and decided to swim off downstream again and roll on the surface. My heart was in my mouth. I have often found that when a fish does this it can get wrapped up in the line and invariably come off. However, fortunately, the fish then began to swim towards the net again. I kept the tension on the line guiding the fish again towards the net, which looked so small. Colin encouraged me telling me to keep the fish moving towards him. With one swift motion, Colin managed to net the fish and there were whoops of delight all round.
The eighteen pounder!
The salmon was a fantastic specimen. It was eighteen pounds in weight and very fresh. The fish was not sea liced, although it could not have been in the river for more than three days. The fish was unhooked easily and after a few photographs it was returned safely into the silvery waters of the Tay, to continue its onward journey. It was now after midday, so we decided to have an early lunch.
Lunch was a jovial affair and always tastes much better after you have caught a fish. The hut was lovely and warm with the fire roaring. Looking out from the hut window, I could see the rain getting heavier and the wind picking up. I was quite happy to spend another couple of lazy hours in front of the blazing fire in the hut. Colin was having none of it! He was focused on trying to catch another springer. We had only managed to fish three pools in the morning on the beat, which is 3.5 miles long. We fished the Burnmouth and Sowerby pools again but unfortunately history did not repeat itself. We then motored downstream under the A9 Jubilee bridge. We started harling just below the Clachtaggart stone (a huge boulder that is a well known feature in the area). The water was looking great. The Clachtaggart pool is deep with a lovely steady flow going down it’s entire length. It looked ideal water for a springer to rest. We continued to harl down the bottom half of the beat hitting all the likely spots. As the afternoon drew on, the rain grew heavier and the wind strengthened. Around four o’clock I could feel the dreaded effects of the jet lag kicking in again and it was getting colder, so we decided to call it a day. On the way back to the hut, the rain pelted down in the boat, our spirits however were not dampened and remained high.
Back at the hut we reflected on a fantastic day over a hot cup of coffee and biscuits. I had caught my largest February salmon. All Colin’s enthusiasm in the morning had been justified.
The release!
Driving back home I reflected on how lucky both my wife and I have been so far this season. We had both caught springers from the Dalmarnock beat and it was not even March yet.
At home, I am sure my wife got quite bored as I repeatedly recollected the day’s events and bombarded her with photos of my fish over a glass of wine. She was scrolling through the pictures on my phone and saw the photo of the big Siamese carp I had caught forty-eight hours earlier. She smiled and said that there were not many people who could say they caught a Siamese carp and a spring salmon all within forty-eight hours. I think she is right you know!