I stood on the bank north of Arnarfell in the early hours of Monday morning. There was a slight northerly breeze, and it wasn’t particularly warm—just enough of a draft to keep a few flies buzzing around. I had been working the water with various flies for about two hours when I heard the alarm call of a Great Northern Diver. The bird’s concern was a dog running along the shore, followed by three men who proceeded to pitch a tent and begin fishing. They hadn’t been at it long when one of them let out a shout; I could see he had a fish on the line.
I must admit, I was gripped by envy. I thought to myself: ‘Oh, no! I can’t believe this. Am I really going to watch others catch fish while I go empty-handed again?’ Usually, I rejoice with fellow anglers, but having gone home without a catch just two days prior while others succeeded had clearly begun to shake my confidence in my own skills. However, around half-past nine, I regained my composure when a 1.1 kg snail-eating char took a Friskó fly. The Friskó was on a 2-foot tippet attached to a sink-tip line. Shortly after, I switched to a more traditional setup: a floating line with a 15–18 foot leader, with a gold-bead Watson’s Fancy tied on. That earned me another char, weighing in at 0.8 kg.
Around half-past eleven, I began thinking about heading home. However, I decided to try one more promising spot slightly further south along the bank. This was the exact place where I had seen those men become so animated over some fish two days prior. The conditions there are somewhat awkward; the bottom is rocky and there’s limited space for backcasts. Still, I managed to get my fly out decently—this time a Killer with a bead-head and a red collar. After just three casts, a 1.6 kg char struck, and a few casts later, another took the fly, weighing in at 1.2 kg once landed. A third char also went for the Killer, but she got away after a brief tug-of-war.
I consider myself quite fortunate to have only lost one of the fish that struck, especially since I had to wade each one to shore and tail them by hand—having left my landing net behind in the car.