Category: Fish and fishing


Our days here have settled into a familiar routine. If we had any brains we would be up at first light and looking for trout but this does not happen. We put the blame for this squarely on the shoulders of the Guinness brewery in Dublin. At dawn when the trout are active we are nowhere to be seen.

Breakfast is eaten at O´Connors just down the road from Mark´s place in Westport where we can steal a little internet and spend a little while in civilized company. This is where we are now. There is a toasted sausage sandwich in front of each of us, and a coffee to help kickstart the day. O´Connors is where we talk strategy and decide on a venue for the day´s fishing. Continue reading →

When it comes to trout fishing here in the west there is a choice to be made. One option is to fish one of the big loughs like Mask or Carra in the hope of picking up some potentially large trout while another is to head to one of the many small loughs which hold good stocks of feisty little fellas.

Having had a slow day on Carra the previous day, we decided yesterday that we would head to the hills and see if we could catch some of the small dark trout that live in the mountain loughs. Continue reading →

The pints we consumed were not celebratory as they had been the previous night but a consoling remedy after a day´s rejection by the trout of Lough Carra.

To be honest we needed little consolation. Everyone who plays the trout fishing game might expect things to be inconsistent, particularly at this time of the year but we were nevertheless surprised at how little activity we observed. Sean and Mark each had a couple of furtive rises but put these down to small fish but my own flies were untroubled over the several hours they were on the water. If we failed to catch it was not from lack of effort. We offered those damn trout everything they might have asked for, wets and dries and buzzers, and we drifted over very promising looking water. The weather conditions seemed fine. Who knows why things pan out this way sometimes. It is what it is. C´est la vie. Continue reading →

Every now and then my brother Sean and our old friend Mark arrange a little rendezvous in the west of Ireland to see if we can catch a few trout and yesterday we convened in Westport for this long-anticipated fishing trip.

Mark Twain once said that the worst winter he ever experienced was a summer in San Francisco and, while things are not quite that bad here, to begin to imagine summer weather in the west of Ireland it is helpful to consider winter weather in as a starting point. Continue reading →

Harry and I headed out on Rutland again today to do battle with the trout. It was a quiet day for everyone and the fishing people back at base told us that very few fish had been taken. Harry and I had one fish apiece.

Rutland is, very crudely, a V shaped body of water with one arm north of the other and so they are called the north and south arms respectively. On the far side of where they meet, again very crudely, is the club house where boats can be hired (there are 65 of them) and you can buy a ticket to fish it. The boats float (an important design feature in my view) and have an engine at the back. You need an engine here as it is a big water – 3100 acres. Continue reading →

I have just spent a day on Rutland Reservoir boat fishing with Harry Abbott. Harry used to be a mate of mine but today he caught loads of fish whereas and I caught nearly none and so now I hate him. If he were writing this blog he would be speaking about fish landed, others lost and a big lump of a trout that swam off and emptied his reel of fly line in a matter of a few seconds before the line parted. He has just headed off to bed and I bet he will be tossing and turning now and will have trouble sleeping as he relives the drama of those moments.

We never saw that fish but Harry reckons it was significantly heavier than his four pounder which was the first and best fish of the day. Continue reading →

Yesterday I received a short message by email and a single attached photograph. It came all the way from British Columbia and showed the irrepressible John Langridge holding onto the tail of a fish he had just landed.  This fish, a white sturgeon, was about the weight of me, my wife Catriona and our two teenage kids put together!

I have only a few details about the capture of the fish. It was taken in the Fraser River which is the longest river in British Columbia and took 45 minutes to subdue. It towed the boat along as if it were a dog being taken for a walk and was eventually landed a full mile from where it was hooked. Continue reading →

John Langridge has been catching some barracuda in the Indian Ocean these last few days. They are creatures of such menace that they have carved a certain reputation for themselves.

I have never caught barracuda myself but I did have the chance to see one firsthand, in its own element, back in the days when I did a lot of scuba diving. We were in the Red Sea and I was partnered with the divemaster guy on a “livaboard” dive boat. We had spent some time suspended just off a vertical rock face that plummeted into the abyss when the divemaster fella beckoned for me to join him in the open water. Continue reading →

We have family here at the moment and I have been unable to slip quietly away to the river for a bit of “psychological readjustment.” The result of this is that I have been unusually grumpy for the last couple of days. The weather hash´t helped. It has been punishingly hot and so we “retreated” indoors for much of the day watching Wimbledon on the telly.

While we have all been competing for the most comfortable spot on the sofa to watch Andy Murray, or arguing about whose turn it is to do the washing up, others have been “living the dream” and headed out to sea to do battle with giant fish. Last week Steven Lawler reported on a great big tuna a neighbour of his caught out on a charter from Sotogrande. He tells me that it took three of them an hour and a half to finally land it and they estimated its weight at 200kg. Continue reading →

I reckon God must be getting old. Old folks often feel the chill a little and like to turn the central heating up and that certainly seems to be happening here. The weather people say we are experiencing a little heat wave which should pass in a few days. Maybe. I figure it is just God twiddling the dials that adjust the thermostat.

On Saturday morning I collected Leo from a friend´s house in Fuengirola and took him to the river to see if the fish were up and about. They were, but they were sluggish, as was Leo himself after a night on the beer and just a few hours of sleep. Continue reading →