Upper Scone Beat
It was the end of July and some of the lower beats on the River Tay had been fishing well. Decent numbers of fish were being caught in the Stanley area; which was encouraging for the time of year. We had not fished on the lower river since February, when my wife, Sam caught a nice springer on the Pitlochrie beat. Therefore, when a fishing opportunity on the Upper Scone beat arose both of us jumped at the chance.
Upper Scone is a famous lower Tay beat. Traditionally it fishes well in early spring and then again in late summer. Usually, the beat is at its most productive during the autumn months. The beat is situated at Stanley and runs downstream for approximately two miles. Upper Scone is split into two halves, with the upper and lower beats fished on alternate days. We would be on the upper beat, which meant that we would get to fish on the famous Horsey pool.
The lower River Tay had been fishing well
Saturday morning dawned warm and cloudy. The weather was set fair for the day but thankfully cloudless skies and bright sunshine was not forecast. The river had risen through the early part of the week and had now dropped to a nice height.
We were arrived at the fishing hut located close to the famous Stanley Mill. The two ghillies on the beat David Barwick (David B) and David Seaton (David S) gave us a warm welcome and soon made us feel at home. They seemed to be quite optimistic about prospects for the day ahead as the beat had already produced fish earlier in the week. We were the only guests fishing, so were lucky enough to have the beat to ourselves. David B suggested that we set up both fly and spinning rods to cover all options. I built up my fifteen-foot fly rod, coupled with a sink tip line. On the business end, I opted for a half-inch Cascade variant bottle tube. Sam decided to use a similar setup but her weapon of choice was a dressed size 10 gold bodied Willie Gunn. For spinning, I chose a 28g black Flying C and Sam put faith in her trusty Vision110, Western Clown. Over a cup of coffee, we hatched a plan for the day ahead and we were ready to tackle the mighty Tay!
The historic Stanley mill
The boat was moored close to the mill itself and so we had to walk downstream from the hut along a high wall, which formed part of the workings of the old mill. The place was steeped in history. I wondered what it would have been like to work in such a mill all those years ago. It was strange seeing the mill in modern times not being used for what it was built for. My nostalgic thoughts ended abruptly when I saw a large silver fish jumping downstream and a tinge of excitement trickled down my spine! I looked down into the waters of the silvery Tay while we crossed the river in the boat. The water was clear and overhead there was a blanket of cloud. Prospects for the day ahead looked promising.
Sam was going to fly fish from the boat in the morning in the lovely Cawnpore pool with David B, while I would fish Horsey from the bank under the watchful eye of David S.
As soon as we arrived at Horsey, we started to see fish move. Horsey is one of the more prolific pools on the lower Tay. It fishes well in the early spring and can hold large numbers of fish in the late summer and autumn. David suggested that I fished the pool down with the fly first. Horsey is a wide pool (as most pools are on the lower river) and has an excellent flow. The flow picks up towards the tail of the pool where fish often lie. The riverbed is mostly gravel with a few larger rocks, so the wading is not too challenging. On the far side of the pool, there are long shelves of rock, which extend out into the middle of the river and this is often where the fish lie.
Covering the likely lies in Horsey
I waded out to around knee depth and started fishing. My casting was not going too well but I still felt that I was covering fish. As I gradually worked my way down the pool, I saw plenty of fish. The fish appeared to be running hard but I was convinced that I would get a pull any minute. It took just over an hour to cover the entire pool and I must have seen over fifty fish. I could not believe that I had not made contact. David suggested that I fished down the pool again but this time trying the Flying C. He felt that I should vary my direction of cast with the lure incorporating some upstream casts. By now, Sam and David B had come downstream in the boat. We were both surprised to hear that neither of them had seen a fish let alone hook one. Sam fished the head of the Horsey Pool from the boat with her Vision 110, while I tried the Flying C further downstream.
Every so often she would glance downstream to see what I was doing. I think she was worried that I was going to hook a fish. I told her not to worry about me and concentrate on her own fishing! I must have been half way down the pool and was just contemplating changing my Flying C. I had cast my lure slightly upstream and was about to lift the rod tip up to cast again as the Flying C was almost at my feet. Suddenly from out of nowhere the rod nearly got ripped out of my hand and the reel started screaming. I had finally hooked a fish. The fish tore off across the river with savage power like a torpedo and I was left a mere spectator. Slowly I managed to gain some line on the fish but it stayed deep in the water. It felt like a decent fish. By now David S was by my side with the net. Upstream I could see Sam and David B keeping a keen eye on the action. The fish then came toward the surface and I saw a nice silver flank. I managed to guide the fish towards David’s net but unfortunately it was not ready. As soon as it hit the shallow water, it headed off downstream. I could feel the fish head shaking and I was convinced I was going to lose it. I slowly managed to coax the fish back to where David was waiting with the net and he made no mistake.
A lovely Tay summer salmon
As soon as the salmon was netted, the Flying C fell out from the fish’s mouth. In the net lay a lovely sea liced Tay summer salmon of around eleven pounds. After a quick photograph, the fish was allowed to return on its onward journey to fight another day. I looked up to see where Sam was fishing in the boat and gave her a big thumb’s up. In the faintest voice and with no conviction I am sure I heard her say “well done.”
It was now just after one o’ clock, so we decided to break for lunch. I have to admit I did gloat about the fish to Sam over lunch. It was great that she could actually see all the drama unfold before her eyes. She said that she could see the fish was shaking its head by the way my rod was bending and she just had her fingers crossed that I would lose it! I did not think this was very sporting of her. I therefore decided to take the opportunity, when she went to the car to eat her piece of cake. As you can imagine this did not go down well. In the one day, she not only had a salmon taken away from under her nose but also lost a piece of Victoria sponge!
After lunch, Sam decided to fish from the bank while I fished with David B from the boat. We started fishing in the Cawnpore pool while Sam went down to Horsey with David S. David advised me to persist with the black Flying C, as it had already been successful. Cawnpore is a lovely pool on the beat. It is quite fast flowing and the tail of the pool looks tantalising. It has large boulders under the water, which throw up mesmerising boils behind which the fish often lie. It was nice to chat to David while fishing from the boat. David is one of the longest serving ghillies on the river and it was amazing to hear how good the salmon fishing was on the Tay, in days gone by. It felt like a real education for me to have someone so knowledgeable in the boat to chat to and I learned a lot about the history of this magical river. I covered the pool to the best of my ability but did not see a fish. It was mid-afternoon so we decided to join Sam and David S in the Horsey pool.
The head of the Horsey pool
We anchored up at the head of the pool and continued fishing the Flying C. Downstream, I could see Sam fishing with David S. The thick cloud had now broken and the sun had just started to peak through. A few fish moving were still moving at the tail of the pool. David suggested that I try a ruby red Devon Minnow. I had caught fish on Devons before, so was more than happy to change my lure. We covered the top two-thirds of Horsey without a pull. I was relieved to hear that Sam had fared no better on the bank and this gave me great comfort. It was now half past four but David B still had one last trick up his sleeve.
He wanted to harl the tail of Horsey so the lures would be covering any fresh fish coming into the pool. Sam got into the boat and off we went. Above us, we could see the steep red cliff faces upon which many of Stanley’s residents lived. We were in quite a spectacular setting. David was manoeuvring the boat into perfect positions so that the lures were covering all the likely lies. Surprisingly, none of the harling rods buckled and after around an hour we decided to call it a day.
Harling at the end of the day
Back at the hut, we reminisced on what had been an excellent day. Both the Davids were great company and a fountain of knowledge. We felt that we had come away from the beat having learned a lot. The icing on the cake was landing a nice fresh salmon, which gave an unforgettable fight. I reminded Sam about how I had caught the only fish of the day. She did not bite, unlike my salmon. I think having a salmon and a piece of cake taken from under her nose by her husband on the same day was just a bit too much!