After 20 "fruitless yet enjoyable years" Stewart Calligan finally catches a salmon with a little help from his support team

“No man is an island” wrote the metaphysical poet, John Donne. Such was the case in my quest to catch my first ever salmon, 20 fruitless, yet enjoyable years had passed in my pursuit.
HIs first was camera shy but the two which followed were photographed and released.HIs first was camera shy but the two which followed were photographed and released.
HIs first was camera shy but the two which followed were photographed and released.

My fantastic team consisted of salmon-catching friend, Alan, who suggested trying the River Tweed; Jane Douglas-Home of the Lees beat Tweed fishing agency who arranged two days fishing for me at the last minute; her head boatman, Malcolm, who quickly advised what tackle I would need; the knowledgeable David and Steven of Hardy’s of Alnwick who set me up with a fast sinking line etc.

I met them at the covid closed Ghillies hut at 9am and also met the three other rods who I would ‘share’ the various Lees beats with. It was fairly decided who would fish where and who with. As I was new to the sinking fly line Paul took me in his boat below the weir for the first two hours.

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Although salmon were jumping all around us not one fancied my Cascade orange and yellow fly. I waded for an hour below the weir – still no takes. A pleasant lunch was had and I was biting at the bit to get going again. Malcolm took me out in his boat on the famous Temple pool.

The wind was getting up and after covering the whole pool I was not too optimistic when I felt a tug. I tightened the line and felt something tugging about 30 yards away.

Malcolm advised to let it go but keep a bend in the 15-foot rod, whilst he rowed to the side. Taking deep breaths, I gave the fish my full concentration.

It swam side to side and stripped off more line as it came nearer the boat. Malcolm was in the river in his chest waders with his knotless net.

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To lunge at a tired fish has produced many a lost catch but Malcolm had it netted.

My first salmon. Wow. An estimated 4lb cock grilse. I had read the ‘how to handle a salmon to cause least distress and damage’ and had this in mind as Malcolm levelled the camera. The beautifully marked grilse was having none of it and with a flick of its tail jumped out of my hands back into the river. My panic stricken face of not getting a photo of the very first salmon must have been self-evident as Malcolm reassured me optimistically that, tomorrow was another day.

Sure enough his formidable knowledge of the river produced two more salmon the following morning. Casting into a strong wind with Malcolm’s own tied cascade fly I had a 6lb cock and a 10lb hen within half an hour of each other. These were beautiful fish and both very photogenic.

Overall what a splendid result. My first salmon followed by two more respectable fish and all carefully returned.

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