Icy determination of Scots salmon seekers

This is a very thick fly line, originally designed to tow oil tankers in to Aberdeen harbour. Salmon anglers have adapted it to enable them to cast flies, tied around bits of old copper piping, at sufficient speed to punch a hole in one of the afore-mentioned tankers. All this is undertaken with fishing rods that are unnaturally long and operated with two hands instead of one.

The object of the exercise formerly eluded me because it all seemed to no avail; no-one ever caught a salmon. Now, after a week in the company of salmon fishing fanatics, all is clear. Spring fishing has nothing to do with catching salmon. It is simply about a group of friends meeting together in stunning surroundings, hurling Skagit lines to the horizon while risking hypothermia. They then meet together in the fishing hut and ponder upon the reasons why they have not caught any fish. Once I understood, I could accept that spring salmon fishing is, indeed, an honourable pass-time. The group of fellow anglers were wonderful company.

Next on the "learned list"; not all Scottish ghillies are miserable old codgers. Some of them are very young. Simon, the ghillie on our beat still has hair, lots of it. To be fair, he's not miserable either; generous to a fault, I'd say. He even lent his pastel blue long johns to Mark, whose extremities were traumatised through immersion in ice melt. In fact, Simon's enthusiasm and encouragement is an important element that enhances the whole angling ritual. "Ye'll catch na fesh sitting aroond in the hut" being a typical early morning motivational address. "Yon Skagit things are fe them that cannae cast" also seemed to be interpreted as helpful. In fact, Simon proved his latter observation by consistently Spey casting across the river with a conventional line into the teeth of a nasty northerly. As part of my learning curve, I discovered that good ghillies are worth their weight in spring salmon.

The next revelation was unexpected; salmon fishers are human. I had assumed that immersion in icy water had no effect upon proper spring salmon seekers. On the contrary, when Jamie's neoprene waders sprung a leak, blood seemed to drain from his face, and goodness knows where else. Judging by the way he walked, some of the unseen bits were undergoing some kind of cathartic, or is that Arctic, experience.

I had expected to meet resistance to my suggestion that these dedicated salmon fishers turn their attention to the brown trout in the river.

In fact, they were not difficult to persuade. The brown trout revealed themselves even on the coldest of days, when the snow fell for hours on end. Some huge fish were seen lunging at the March brown flies that were blown along the river by the biting Baltic blast. No true angler could resist the opportunity.

I think it was Willie who declared that he would "have a crack" at the trout. "After all" he remarked, it's probably our last hope of a catch this week.

The outcome of our assault on the Spey trout will be revealed next month.

Flies dressed by Stephen Cheetham 0113 250 7244. www.fishingwithstyle.co.uk

Roger Beck 01439 788483. www.beckfisher.co.uk

CW 1/5/10