Every year I look forward to a late-summer stravaig in the Scottish Highlands or Islands with a close circle of fishing friends. It has become something of a tradition: a week marked by high expectations, a sense of adventure, and the familiar mix of triumph and fair share of blanks, but most importantly, precious days spent fishing on the lochs with good company.
This year we were based in a converted farm house near Thurso in Caithness an ideal location for the lochs we intended fishing.
I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure I’d make it this year as my health hasn’t been the best and I had to weight up the pros and cons before fully committing. However I was encouraged to get on with my life despite my health woes.
Not everything went according to plan. A couple of friends had to drop out at the last minute for various reasons, and sadly, one of our group had to return home early during the week due to a family bereavement.
Still, those of us who remained made the most of the week, appreciating every cast, every walk across the moor and every shared story at the day’s end over a hearty meal and drinks.
Sunday
I started the week at a Forsinard forest loch under blazing sunshine, with the water lying completely flat and lifeless. Conditions were far from ideal. Very little fly life was visible, and only a single trout broke the surface all day. My boat partner managed to tempt a lively half-pounder, but apart from that brief excitement, the loch gave us nothing more. Not the most inspiring way to begin my week up north.
Monday
The mood shifted for the better on Yarrows, fishing from the boat on the Thrumster Estate. Vaughan and I enjoyed a fine day, with steady sport from start to finish. Between us we landed around fourteen healthy, spirited trout each that kept us busy. The flies of the day proved to be the trusty Blue Zulu and the leggy Half Ordie. A real contrast to my blank Sunday.
Tuesday
Plans to fish Shurrery didn’t unfold quite as expected. After the long walk in, carrying both the outboard and the heavy battery, we discovered the DFFA boat was missing. Fortunately, the estate owner, a very helpful Dutch gentleman, came to our rescue. He kindly offered us the use of his own boat and led us down the loch to his boathouse, even calling his gamekeeper for assistance. The keeper arrived with an agrocat, ready to winch the boat out and tow it down to the loch.
It was an incredibly generous gesture, but in the end we declined. It would have meant another long haul with the engine and battery, and with my health condition I simply wasn’t up to it. We thanked them both sincerely for their kindness, then made our way back. Vaughan salvaged the afternoon by heading out in his float tube, while I returned to our accommodation for much needed rest.
Wednesday
After the exertions of the previous days, I wisely took a rest day. Stroke recovery demands patience, and sometimes the body dictates a slower pace, even in the Highlands. The rest did me good and prepared me for the fishing still to come.
Thursday
I returned to Yarrows, this time in the company of John. The day began very quietly, and for a while it felt as though the loch might not wake up at all. But once things stirred, the fishing turned lively, and we ended up enjoying another excellent session. I brought around a dozen trout to the boat, while John out-fished me slightly with about fifteen.
Friday
My final day of the trip took me to the shores of Stemster, fishing on foot. It proved a challenging outing. I raised a few half-hearted splashy rises to my flies and only one firm take to a foam daddy which I felt briefly. John fared better, landing two fine trout, one of them around the two-pound mark, a proper Highland specimen.
And so my week ended as it began: with a blank. Still, between those quiet bookends were days of fine fishing and precious moments shared.
With a bit of luck, my health will be stronger by next season, and we’ll have the chance to gather again, perhaps at a new corner of Scotland chasing trout together.
