fishydreams

I doubt anybody would suggest that brown trout are among the intellectual giants of the animal kingdom but my brother Sean and I are both prepared to admit that they are a good deal smarter than either of us. It was predominantly the fish of the River Lee, one of Sean´s home rivers, that made us aware of our relative cerebral shortcomings.

There were no shortage of trout and many of them were jumping right out of the water as though fired by underwater cannons. We didn´t figure these ones were in the business of feeding at all and this behaviour remains something of a mystery to us. Projectile trout aside, there were good numbers of free risers and it was clear that the river has a healthy population of small to medium-sized fish.

It was not at all clear what they were feeding on. The occasional olive and sedge could be seen fluttering about above the river but the fish seemed to be taking nymphs or emerging insects very close to the surface and there was no obvious sign of a hatch. We fished for them with small dries and nymphs and covered no end of rising fish without eliciting any kind of response. We felt, not for the first time, that we were on a hiding to nothing.

As it happens we did each manage to catch fish in the fading light but these were token scraps thrown to us by the fishing Gods, perhaps as a reward for perseverance or maybe as an inducement to return in the future so that they could entertain themselves by sniggering once again at our ineptitude.

Some consolation came our way when we discovered that the fish in rivers throughout the country were up to similar tricks and there were no end of fishermen, just like us, watching trout rise all around but refuse anything tied to a leader. The trick, we later learned (on the morning I packed my things to head home to Spain!) was to do what we were doing but with much smaller flies and nymphs – size 20 tops. That is something to remember for next year and maybe we can whip up a few tiny patterns over the winter to see if we can do better in the future.

It seems to me that there is a pretty fine line between being very smart and very dumb. Trout are often called “educated” to comfort the disconsolate angler who has thrown everything at them and been refused. It is not an easy thing to take this. It is like putting on your best clothes, rehearsing all your coolest dance moves and then sidling up to some girl you are keen on and asking if she would like a drink and then suffer the indignity of watching her roll her eyes and walk off looking for someone better.

The fishing gurus don´t buy this “educated” trout claptrap. As far as they are concerned the fish are just being “selective” and not smart. They become so focused on one thing that they ignore a perfectly reasonable alternative like those yummy dries, emergers and nymphs that Sean and I had whipped up earlier at his kitchen table.

So how does it feel to be outsmarted by dumb fish? Actually it feels just fine! We managed a few fish in the end even if we manifestly failed to crack the code. There are no complaints from us.

There are worse things you can be doing than wading in a beautiful river during the last couple of hours of daylight.

The light was fading when we began to catch but the trout and we just released them straight away. They are as pretty as hell. This is a typical fish taken by Sean on the River Suir the previous day.

The Suir is quite a big river but we also manage to fool trout on the much smaller Shournagh despite the level being as low as Sean ever remembers it. This is a beautiful, intimate river.

And a wee one from the Shournagh. Sean had a nice fish here but it decided to leap back into the river as we were preparing to photograph it. So it goes.