Sea River Hill: River Halladale

I’m not usually very lucky when it comes to competitions, but willing to support a good cause I entered the Flow Country Rivers Trust raffle on the north coast. Believe it or not I won three days fishing on the River Halladale, the 2^nd week of April – Delighted! A river I’d always wanted to fish, the Halladale flows 15 miles North from Forsinard to where it enters the sea at Melvich Bay, some 20 miles West of Thurso. With one of the estate cottages booked, I soon had girlfriend, dog, fishing rods, boots, waders, maps, whisky, food to feed the three of us for a month and half of majestic’s monthly wine stock crammed into the car, not forgetting, of course, enough Easter eggs to fuel us ahead of the six hour drive from Edinburgh.

Old netting station in the Halladale estuary

Arriving at location just before midnight and with the thick black night disguising our surroundings we really had no idea what we had got ourselves into! We both awoke to the sea battering the rocky north coast across the bay from our cottage, and a breathtaking view of the stunning sea pools on the river Halladale itself, which swept round the bay in front of the house before emptying its contents alongside a perfect white sandy beach… just a shame about the driving rain and thick sea haar. With the weekend to explore, before fishing started on the Monday, we remained car bound on Saturday, heading East to Thurso and John O’Groats before a long windy beach walk nearby. Sunday was glorious however, and we ventured west to the more dramatic landscape of Tongue, where we headed up a Ben Loyal and explored the local Rivers Borgie and Naver, the latter being an absolutely stunning piece of water that one day I hope to be able to cast a line on. We finished our day with a drink on the beach across the river from our cottage at what must have been an old netting station.

The River was lightly fished the previous week, and the book showed five fish. Two of them came from beat two on Saturday, which I was to be fishing on Monday morning. With just over a foot on the gauge then, I had hoped that the warmth of Sunday would have kept the levels up with snow melt, however I was slightly disappointed to find it had dropped away a fair bit. Saturday’s fish had come from the 'Run Out', a narrow spout coming out the back of a big deep slow pool, carved out by the only obvious falls on the river – Forsil. The pool had three or four croys and fished all the way down through each one. Thankfully the sun stayed behind the clouds and I really fancied my chances. Landing my fly in the slack water the far side of the final croy my line tightened for the first time this season and I lifted into a fish, which I was able to quickly release – a small, well mended kelt. Scrambling back over the top of the waterfall, I was able to fish the Forsil pool, with a rush of water at the neck followed by swirls and eddies, this proved a frustratingly difficult pool to fish. Somehow I did manage to hook something, which I had a good look at before it slipped the hook; probably a kelt, maybe a trout, almost certainly not a springer…

The river was not wide at all, and small double handers were the name of the game for fishing at this time of year, and even in low water the ghillie was fishing big flies. A single hander would be fine later in the year however going toe to toe with a 15lb springer in one of these small pools with a 10ft 7# would be most entertaining! I was also glad to have the double hander when the wind picked up before lunch. Being as far north as you can on the mainland really puts you up against the weather especially as the river is very exposed in places. My afternoon was fruitless, the wind had picked up, the clouds had gone and the sun ruined any chance I might have had.

A cast in Sandy Brae, beat 4

The next day was completely different, a perfect fishing morning which soon turned into a very warm and wet muggy day. I was on beat one – the lowest of the fishing above the tide and my best chance of a fish from the river which levels had continued to drop overnight. The pools in beat one were very different, from big slow pools with little flow, to narrow spouts there was plenty of variety. Connagil was the main pool, a classic long riffled pool with an obvious neck and tail. I found the other smaller pools very difficult to fish, with horrible back eddies, or very little flow – it was a million miles away from the classic big river fishing I become accustomed too and one that didn’t particularly suit my setup – spey lines would certainly be preferable to shooting heads and mono running line! I couldn’t help but think how good that beat would have been with an extra inch or six on the gauge, but the ghillie insisted that fish were to be caught in what I thought looked almost dead water. A valuable lesson, and one that shows how different rivers will hold fish in different types of water. They key here was definitely fly movement, but despite a day of stripping almost every type of fly I owned through most of the pools, I had only one knock for my effort which I’m sure wasn’t a Salmon.

With a six hour drive home, I had just a morning to explore the whole of beat four, which was by far my favourite beat and also the furthest from the sea. It was clear from the outset that this wasn’t really a spring beat, with a couple of obvious slower pools – namely the bridge pool, the rest were fantastic small pockets and riffles between weirs and obvious features. The river had come up a couple of inches after the previous days rain and it looked perfect. I could imagine once a head of fish had moved through the river system that all off these pockets would produce fish, and once the grilse were running there could be some fantastic sport. The top of the beat is marked by the confluence of the rivers main tributary which enters the river at the last main holding pool on the system – Cemetery. Unfortunately we were back to BBQ weather and having walked and fished the entire beat without seeing a fish I called it a day at lunchtime in order to make it back to Edinburgh in good time. Driving south down the Helmsdale valley showed us what we had missed on the dark journey north… the most stunning glen I have ever seen, with some seriously gorgeous looking pools on the River Helmsdale, Helen spent most of the 40 minute drive trying to stop me from driving off the road!

View back to the cottages from the tidal
water

Another blank trip, but given that it’s not really an early spring fish river, I did know what I was getting myself into. With a five year average of 900 fish for just 12 rods I could see the appeal of a week later in the season. With such great variety of water it’s the sort of place where you could stack up some serious numbers if you got some rain, but if not there is always a plan b, especially with Reuben on hand, an excellent ghillie clearly knows the river and isn’t afraid to try a number of new of different tactics. Thanks John Salkeld for donating the prize to the raffle and for the work that the Flow Country River Trust does. I would also praise the River Halladale itself, with a true example of a river that isn’t over fished, has excellent catch and release statistics and one that is a great example of how a hatchery can help boost a local Salmon population. Whilst the gorgeous little river didn’t produced a fish for me, it has taken me to another stunning corner of this country. I simply love the north of Scotland, it’s remoteness has captured Helen’s imagination and it was with heavy hearts that we both headed back to civilisation.

More information on the River Halladale can be found here - http://www.strathhalladale.com
Flow Country River Trust website - http://jamesfleming.com/FCRT/

One tired dog on the top of Ben Loyal, dreaming of the snipe she lifted on the way up!

River Halladale - April 2015