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Fishing the river you deserve - Wear, Liddell, Tweed and others

Our November 2002 contribution from Bill Drew

We can fish the river that is most convenient even if it means a 200 mile round trip. We can fish a water that matches our personality. We can fish a river because it is there and on our doorstep. We can fish a river that we can just afford. Alternatively like me you can do all of the above. Someone once described a river as being “good enough for who it’s for”, but ultimately I believe we fish the river we deserve.

I fish the Liddell four times a year. In a recent guide this major tributary of the Border Esk was described as a “Water”. This faintly critical branding is sometimes historic but often misleading. It looks, smells and sounds like a river to me. I have great affection for the Liddell and have had many pleasant days trouting but sea trout have been my specific target when on that river and I have never touched one. I should fish later so it is my own fault but it is pretty and light on anglers so I am relatively content. One eager beaver dashes from southern England, fishes into the dawn and sleeps by the river and is rewarded by regular finnock on the fly; same river but different results. We get the river we deserve. As I have discovered in this my first season after the big fellows salmon fishing is a lottery. On the Tweedwood stretch of the middle Tweed, on the 17th of October, it seemed as if my “ number” had at last come up. 2 months of near drought (the driest September in 16 years) had come to an end 5 days earlier. The water was thinning down nicely, the wind had dropped away and it was warm without being too bright. Salmon were running in large numbers. Some were a little black from river mouth waiting but many were fresh and silver. Remarkably all excuses had been removed.

I was rod sharing with Roger. John and Brendan who had organised the trip were on another rod. The well-negotiated price had still made my eyes wince as a fully paid up member of the cheap skate club. 4 other rods, each fished by a better-heeled gent, shared the 6+ pools, fly only in October.

I had a new rod. I was up for it and quietly confident. Kevin the gillie was positive, tempered with his refreshingly dry wit. Roger as usual was predicting doom and despair. He was right. The day ended with a 10-year record of 17 salmon. One top-notch punter had 5 in 2 hours and then called it a day. Another had as many and still time to cosy up with his girlfriend in the afternoon as they shared fishing. John and Brendan had 3 including Brendan’s first on a fly.

Bill and Roger recorded nothing. Granted I lost a fish but Roger never touched a blooming thing. At one point he had the couple on his right playing a fish and the gillie on his left apologising for accidentally hooking a salmon on a trout rod. Not a happy bunny.

Ally Shrimps and the Junction fly on sink tips or floaters did the damage to the fish but as Roger staggered to the car, a broken wreck, I mused , did we not deserve better. I had started by believing that I deserved a grilse at least. Fish everywhere and conditions perfect had simply addled my brain. It might be fishing Jim but not as I know it. It dawned on me that inexpensive fishing brings many problems but that is the fun of it. I began to hallucinate that I could win a trip to the Kola Peninsula and end up featuring on a photograph on the wall as “The only fisher to have ever had a blank week on this river”. When you have covered all the bases and removed all the barriers to catching fish you deserve success; usually you have paid for it. Hats off to those who can and do make the effort as skill and planning are usually part of the same package. On reflection all of the fishers at Tweedwood who experienced success deserved it more than we who blanked. A minimum of 5 years and in most cases 10 years hard graft had preceded the red-letter day on the 17th of October. There is beginner’s luck but ultimately most people get the river they deserve. Crudely an investment of £1000 + a year to fish a prime beat on the best week deserves some kind of a reward. The following week a torrent washed the Tweed into submission. Tweedwood recorded one fish for the week but the regular bookers of that week will be back next year and they will return until they get the river they deserve.

I won’t be there. I need a get out for my lack of fishing success. I am phoning John later to say that next October at Tweedwood is out for Roger and me. The beat is so good I would have no excuses and the thought of Roger foaming in a straight jacket after another humiliation is just too much responsibility. A golden day sometime in the next few years is beyond my patience, time available to fish and my pocket. In addition a blank without excuses is too much to bear. I will be back for a few days in May for high quality salmon fly-fishing and if I grass one I will deserve it.Two days later I had convinced Roger to have another bash. It was the climb back on a horse after you have broken both legs philosophy. Our host was Stuart of Darlington and the venue was the Wear. I seldom fish in England. I find that most fishers are English in England for a start but then so were all the salmon gang at Tweedswood. For once I decided to be unbiased. Before you complain I acknowledge that Scots can be pretty mercurial, superb hosts and miserable swines in equal measures. As always the Durham fishers just would not fit into my stereotypes and I found the Wear anglers to be as pleasant and hospitable a mob as you could hope for.

I also avoid English waters because of the bizarre need to buy a government licence. Now I am sure this is all very well in environmental terms but for me it feels like buying a pint and being asked to rent the glass as well. Again I threw caution to the wind and put my hand in my pocket to keep on the right side of the law. Licensed to catch and release I hit the water.

We were meant to be after sea trout and the odd grilse but I don’t think we deserved them. First of all the Wear is a multitude of rivers. The scenery was spot on and in some of the prime sea trout parts the pools were deep and languid, holding great promise for the early evening. Parts were muddy, others gravel. We tried other stretches that were rocky and rapid, planning to retrace our steps later to the sea trout pools. Then we kind of lost the plot and instinct took over. Quite simply we were taken by surprise and reverted to what we knew best.

We hit ideal grayling and trout water and it felt as comfortable as my own bed after a week away. I wandered into a pod of grayling and managed to lose 3 from my sea trout fly. Roger hooked and returned a trout. I went bonkers with a sudden hatch and rise and ended up attempting to catch grayling on a dry fly with an 8lb tippet and a weight 9 rod. I failed but then I expected to. As Stuart puffed out advice and humour with cigarette smoke he became a little depressed by our lack of sea trout success. I reassured him that it was not unexpected and we started to plan a return visit. Who knows what we will catch when we return, probably everything apart from what we expect to. We may strike it lucky but on that or a subsequent visit we will have deserved it.

Now let me know if you have the river you deserve and why on bill.drew@lineone.net

Bill Drew lives in the Scottish Borders and can be contacted at bill.drew@lineone.net