How I love March 15^th.  When I lived in the North, regardless of snow, ice, gale or whatever, I would venture out for the first cast of the new brown trout season.  It was like a first meal to a starving man and I could, at last, put the winter behind me.

Nowadays, with the availability of year-round trout fishing (if only for trans-Atlantic aliens) many don’t get the full relief effect of that wonderful spring day  Because the boats wouldn’t come out from hibernation until April, I would stand in freezing water, clumsily tie some favourite patterns with chilled fingers, and make that first cast with more hope than expectation.  It would always be hard work, but it was a poor opening day when I wouldn’t enjoy a meal of wild trout at the end of it.

Many think that opening day fish must, of necessity, be poor, thin, kelt-like things not worthy of the table.  I never found this to be the truth.  Feeding, for trout, doesn’t start on March the 15^th, and what you will probably find is that anything caught in March is more likely to be fish that were not only fighting fit, but hadn’t spawned in the previous winter.  These ‘maiden’ fish would make up the bulk of the catch, if not all of it, and had probably been feeding, off and on, throughout the better weather of the winter.

Of course, some lochs were better than others for producing prime trout in March.  In my Orkney days, Stenness and Harray were my favourite lochs for a first of the season fish, which was handy as at their nearest point they were only a matter of a few yards apart.  The tactics for Harray were to stand, with the wind at your back, well back from the edge and search through inches of water for fish feeding on shrimp.  Great patterns were long-shank Worm Fly, Invicta, Jersey Heard and Green Peter.  On Stenness, there was little change from standard tactics, fishing through the bladder-wrack with hideously bright patterns with lots of tinsel and materials of red, orange and pink.  The only nod towards the spring weather would be to fish areas where a reasonably gentle breeze was following the sheltered shoreline.

A tasty brace from the salty waters of Loch Stenness

I would always try Stenness first because if I was going to keep a trout for dinner, this loch produced the best eaters.  Harray fish were good enough but not a patch on those from her sister loch for table-worthiness.  Once a fish was caught and consigned to the bag, I could travel where the fancy and expectations of sport took me.

It was amazing how close-in those early spring grazers would feed.  There are those who think that deep water is where you should hunt for spring fish, but that is not the case.  Food production in the form of weed and algal growth upon which the small invertebrates feed is triggered off by weak, early season sunshine, and the less water this light has to penetrate the greater its effect.  Once the growth is underway and the aquatic bugs have started to feed, trout will enter ridiculously shallow water to take advantage of this cold buffet.

So, that’s what happens in the Far North.  How does that extrapolate across the nation?  Several rules for early season trout fishing are suggested by these revelations:

1. It is misguided to think that during the spawning period that all trout, even all mature trout, will spawn.  Nature doesn’t put all her eggs (no pun intended) in one basket.  At any given time only a proportion of trout stock will hazard the spawning burns.  Should a disaster occur then there will only be a proportion of the stock endangered.

A perfectly conditioned ‘maiden’ fish from L Leven in March 2012

The fish remaining safe and secure during the spawning season, commonly referred to as ‘maidens’, are the fish which can be expected to be most active in the very early months of the year.  Recent spawners will tend to be dormant until plenteous food is available, a period somewhat later in the year, coinciding with May or June.

2. Always explore regions where a good level of fish food can be expected.  In Harray these are the very margins where water temperatures and accessibility to good levels of sunlight ensure that invertebrate activity is assured; in Stenness, the weedy shallows are full of life; Loch Leven aficionados tend to head for the Hole o’ the Inch.

A ‘belter’ from the shallow water off the Gabions, Hole o’ the Inch
April 2011

The ‘Hole’ contains all the factors already mentioned plus one vital feature.  Because it is sheltered from most quarters, water temperatures in the early months can be a degree or so higher than that in the main body of the loch.  This slightly elevated temperature will almost always prompt early insect activity.  Last year, in late March, there were significant buzzer hatches in the Hole, and above average sport was to be found there through April and into May.

3. Another lesson learnt is avoid deep water in the early months, unless of course, that is where the food is.  Always explore shallow water before the deeps. Although the name ‘Hole o’ the Inch’ gives an impression of great depth, it is on the whole generally quite shallow, and on the slopes into what depth there is generally prove to be the best locations.

I expect to break my fast in late March, and it will probably be on Leven, but if I was back in Orkney I’d be out on the 15^th casting into 6” of Harray water, or crunching mussel shells on Stenness.

Stan Headley

P.S. Check out our latest Hooked UK episode from the North Esk opening. Click the link below to watch the full 30 mins

Fly fishing for trout has mostly been about quantity.  In some of the earliest recorded trout fishing competitions, mainly carried out on border streams and rivers, the weight to number of fish ratio captured was astoundingly low, with an average size of a mere few ounces.  It is obvious from these reports that anything, and I do mean anything, with spots was fair game.  Some of the fish recorded must have been barely parr.

Things have changed a lot since then.  The law, of course, has changed and it is now a criminal offence to kill trout of less than 9 inches.  But the motivating force still lives on.  Last season, on Leven, when things were particularly dour (round about July time) a year class of fish, averaging about 11 inches in length, surfaced in the area between the Reed Bower and St Serfs.  I was out on Leven on a regular basis during this phenomenon and quickly became aware of the situation.  The first time I spotted the boats gathering over these fish, I didn’t realise what was happening, but when I pulled up over the area I sussed it out in a matter of minutes.  Two at time; I was beginning to understand the almost unbelievable numbers some guys were reporting.  I dropped down the drift about two hundred yards and snagged a good fish of about 2½- 3 pounds.  To each his own, but I would rather have one fish over two than a dozen 11” fish.

Darren Woodmass & his 11lb ferox from Arkaig

Nowadays, with stocking policies being what they are, the bulk of fly fishing has become a numbers game.  This, unfortunately, does not transfer happily to wild trout fishing.  There are a few waters where reasonable quantities of modest-sized, sporting fish can be expected.  The Harray Loch, Boardhouse, Watten and Eye still produce good quality fish in large numbers.  These lochs are shallow, fertile, productive waters, and as such are not the norm in Scotland.  Many Scottish wild trout waters tend to be on the infertile side, and if its numbers you want from them, then don’t expect quality as well.

I have always said that I’d happily spend a fishless day waiting for that big ‘un, the trophy fish of a lifetime.  I understand that I’m in a very small minority, but there are a growing number of like-minded souls out there who believe that big is beautiful, first, last and always.  Salmo International will be catering for trophy trout hunters in the forthcoming season and I am pleased yours truly will be hosting the first of these adventures this coming spring.

There are two types of big fish waters – deep, infertile waters where trout grow big on an exclusive diet of charr and small trout; and then there are the shallow, highly productive waters where food is in abundance and big trout thrive on crustacean, molluscs and insect larvae.

The former exist throughout the highlands of Scotland, mainly in the form of hydro-electric dams, although a good number are natural lochs.  Big, pisciverous trout from these waters are often referred to as ‘ferox’.  Popular belief is that these fish can only be caught by trolling at depth.  While this is a popular method of fishing for them, there are lochs in Scotland where trout of this type are regularly, and daily, caught on fly, and not at depth either, but on floating or intermediate lines.  I know, I’ve done it.

A ‘small’ ferox from Arkaig

Lochs Arkaig and Lochy, up in Inverness-shire have been famous for well over a century for providing enormous trout to fly fisherman, and I am hoping to explore some other lochs which may well provide similar sport.

These trout can grow to immense size on a fish diet and fish of up to 20+ lbs have been recorded from Arkaig & Lochy, and the basic technique is traditional drifting in specific areas with traditional trout fly gear and size 10 & 8 flies.

Timing for this style of fish is critical.  The best times are from mid-April – June, and then September to the end of the season.  During high summer (if we get such a thing in Scotland) these fish are only catchable during the last hours of light.

The other loch type, as mentioned above, is totally different.  These lochs are almost always very shallow, fertile and very productive of fish food.  The trout they produce are magnificent creatures and can achieve double-figures in weight.

A 12 lb trout from a small, fertile loch.

Because they are small, fragile environments, I tend not to give their names away as they are very susceptible to over-fishing and abuse.  Their fish populations tend to consist of a small number of very big individuals with a reasonable number of modestly sized fish.

Again, the methodology is traditional gear, tactics and flies, but on many of these small waters boats are not available so a good set of breathable waders is a necessity.  Timing is again critical.  Almost all of these environments are prone to weeding-up, and once the weed has grown productive fishing is nigh on impossible.  Generally speaking, they give of their best from May to the end of June, which is a small window of opportunity.

Of course, there are always big trout in almost every loch trout population, but seeking them out is a hit or miss (with an emphasis on the miss) venture.  Loch Leven, for example, throws out some stunning fish, but you’d never know when one was going to come along.  Your next cast could catch an 8 ounce fish or an 8 pounder.  There is no sure-fire way to improve your chances of catching bigger than average fish.  The biggest fish will more than likely take the smallest fly.

So, how do you go about catching trophy fish.  Simply by going where they live will vastly improve your chances, and we know where they live.

So, who’s joining us……….???

You gotta know where they live.

Stan Headley

IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU READ AND WANT TO JOIN US IN MAY 2013 CHASING THESE BIG BOYS, THEN PLEASE CLICK HERE FOR FULL PACKAGE DETAILS OR EMAIL US AT BOOKINGS@SALMOFISHINGS.COM.  

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Lot’s of my pals and acquaintances imagine that I spend the long, weary winter days and nights tying swarms of flies. I’m not slow in setting them right.

I almost never tie flies in the wintertime. Okay, I rattle a few together for magazine articles, and do the odd, occasional demonstration, but I never tie out of inspiration or desire. I’m at a distance too far removed from fish or fishing to consider that much of value come of it.

The days before an important match or a trip to far-flung places I tie like a demented fool, and inspiration sleets through my mind like meteors through space. During the warm days of summer, ideas pop up like mushrooms and I can happily spend hours at the vice, putting form to fantasy.

You see, I’m not really a fly-producing assembly line; if I tie three of any pattern then I move on to something else. Three is my number – one on the cast, one in the box, and one for my mate (if it’s working). If I lose one – and I rarely do – then I can soon rattle up another three. I am really a pattern devisor. I believe that there is nothing which can’t be improved on. Nine times out of ten such foolishness is unproductive, but then there is that one time ………..

The Doobry

Most people get there inspiration from magazines, other people’s fly boxes or hurried chats in the car park. Mine seem to come out of nowhere. I can be lying in bed of an evening and, as sleep slips up on me, a material or colour combination can suddenly materialise in my head, and there’s nothing for it but to postpone sleep and stagger through to the vice. That’s how the Doobry came about. I was trying to work out why I wasn’t doing so well on a loch in Orkney when others were caning fish on Zulus and Dunkelds. Just as I was about to ‘drop off’ an image formed in my mind of a red tailed, gold bodied, black palmered fly with a mixed hackle of orange and black. I could see it, fully formed in my mind’s eye, and that was, as they say, that!

The Result!

Every man to his own, so if your idea of a perfect holiday is to sit hunched over a vice tying hundreds of Diawl Bachs, get in there. Oh, and send me a dozen, ‘cause I can’t be bothered.

Wishing you all a very happy, fishy New Year.

Stan