Thursday 5^th June

It was better and worse than Christmas. The anticipation was a lot worse than waiting for Christmas ever was, but unlike Christmas, we were not disappointed by the experience.

Eleven anglers from the club flew to Shannon airport and picked up three cars for the drive to Cahir, Co Tipperary, some ninety minutes away. I was having trouble getting the car into gear until someone pointed out it was a manual. Ah.

The weather had not been great and a fair bit of rain had fallen; not good news.

We got to the Wishing Well B&B about 1 mile from the town centre and surveyed the prospects. We had intended fishing that afternoon, but the river was running too high and coloured, so headed for the Galtee Inn for a steak meal instead. The sirloins are to die for, an inch and a half thick, from grass fed and well hung beef cattle. The Guinness was very good too.

 Friday

After a belting Irish breakfast, we set off to inspect the Suir at the Swiss Cottage beat. Although the weather was sunny, the water was the colour of rust and running like a train (not a British train). It was too deep and fast to fish, so we moved on to another beat of the Suir approximately 7 km on the N24 back towards Tipperary.

The water here was less coloured and wading was possible in places. Ken, Thorsten and Tim went on to the Aherlow, a smaller river to try that out. Later that afternoon Hughie took Geoff and Quentin to explore the tiny Ara.

Tackling up   Quentin casting

As usual, I wandered off for a mile or so to prospect the river. Much of it was too deep and in any case the bottom consisted of deep mud, making wading a non-starter. I moved back to the start and fished a #18 blue winged olive pattern from the bank, getting a take, which I missed. Spotting another rise, I cast to the fish and this time felt the fly rattle out of the trout’s mouth. I should have waited for it to turn back down before lifting into it.

Bob and Peter managed a couple of fish near the lane, but Neil was struggling to get any to stay on the hook. Quentin fished from the bank and despite his lovely casting style, was getting nothing too.

At the end of the lane there is a large pool with a few fish rising, including a large fish stationed just under an overhanging bush. Everyone had a stab at fishing for him, but he was almost inaccessible. Neil tried to outsmart him by going downstream and then wading upstream to cast a fly up to him. Sadly, he was also unsuccessful.

Neil after that brownie

Neil had a take or two from other fish in the pool, but again, none stayed on the hook.

Back at the B&B, Ken’s party had done well, taking four or five fish each. They fished the Aherlow by wading upstream and casting to rising fish. On both rivers, there were hatches of blue winged olives, tiny black gnats and spurwings.

We had dinner, (more steaks) at the Galtee Inn. Ken and I opted for an early start, so returned to the B&B. Others moved on to Carroll’s, also known as the Hill Inn and spent half the night there.

 Saturday

We were moving on to the Cahir House Hotel in the town square later today and somehow got totally disorganised. Eventually Ken went off to the Aherlow with Thorsten and Tim, and most of the others went off to the Suir. Neil and I decided to take it easy and save ourselves for the afternoon and the evening rise.  

Bob (the Dog) staggered in around 10 am having entertained the regulars at Carrolls much of the night with his singing. I’m told he can’t sing, but who was sober enough to tell?

Neil and I went into town and headed for the local tackle shop. It’s a tiny place in the town square, where we got lots of advice and bought some flies. I took a fancy to the ethafoam deerhair sedge flies. George the owner told me he would give me a refund if I failed to catch with it. He also recommended we fish the Aherlow or Ara as the Suir was still too high to fish well.  

We then drove along the N24 and stopped off at a bridge over the Aherlow. It looked a viable spot, but possibly difficult wading over a very rough bottom. We stopped off at a very friendly local roadside café for a cake and coffee and returned to the bridge. Looking over the parapet, we spotted a large otter on a rock. It shot off the rock and headed under the bridge, then doubled back underwater at great speed. We were a little stunned and elated at seeing it. 

Then Neil announced we would have to go back as he had forgotten his rods. Now Neil is a lovely chap, but he is deadly for forgetting things. I think it is a combination of work stress and excitement at being let loose to go fishing that overloads his neural networks. Whatever it is, he needs a gentleman’s gentleman to look after him when he is fishing.

It was about 3pm before we wet a line on the Ara. It is a tiny stream meandering through water meadows. A few pools held fish from 10cm to 30cm, but they lay motionless on the bottom. It was hot and humid and we saw no hint of a rise. I tried trotting tiny nymphs and buzzers past the slumbering fish, but got no reaction. We gave up around 5.30pm and headed back to the Suir at Swiss Cottage.

The lovely Ara

The Suir had settled down considerably and was clearing all the time. As I waited for Neil to tackle up, I spotted a rising fish from the bank. I had a blue-winged olive on and cast it a metre upstream of its position. I was a little short, but as the fly drifted past, the fish moved across and up to intercept it. I saw it open and close its mouth and lifted the rod into it. I felt that all too familiar rattle as the fly bounced out of its mouth. I’d done it again, forgotten to wait for it to turn down before striking.

The Suir , Swiss Cottage beat

We then walked a mile downstream and waded out, fishing the dry fly until 11pm. Again there were plenty of olives hatching and I tried to match the hatch. I got a couple more takes which I missed, before a miserable hatch of sedges started. Good opportunity to test out George’s deer-hair caddis pattern.

At first I got no takes, then a fish exploded at it and somehow missed the fly. I tried again at another rise, dropping the fly a foot in front of it. The take was savage and it took the fly deep down. Luckily I had a pair of long forceps and managed to retrieve the fly without doing any damage. The fish was about 15cm long and shot off after being returned to the water.

I won’t be able to claim a refund on the fly after all.

By 10pm I was beginning to shake with cold. When I put my hand in the water I was astonished to find it was really warm. I came out for ten minutes to warm up and talk to a local angler, then went back in until 11pm, when the shivering became uncontrollable. I then remembered we had not had a meal since breakfast and had fished for the last seven hours.

Taking off my chest waders I discovered the right leg was leaking. Not surprising when you consider the brambles I had crashed through earlier that day and yesterday. I had some UV glue which I used on the tiny holes I could see and it did stop the worst leak.

Back at the Cahir House Hotel we were disappointed to find we had missed dinner. Apparently it was very good. We did find a Chinese takeaway open, which saved our bacon and it didn’t touch the sides going down.

Sunday

Ken and I got up early and fished the same stretch as last night with Thorsten. We were able to wade upstream for a couple of hundred metres and had at least three fish each, but all mine came off. I was using another olive pattern with pink and sky-blue wings. The fish really love it, but I really don’t know what to do to get the hook to hold. It was another warm beautiful morning and I looked forward to the day’s fishing.

  The morning rise 

After breakfast, Ken headed back to the Ara, others slept late and Neil and I had a leisurely breakfast before deciding where to fish. Right on cue, my mobile went off. It was George. Did we want to fish with him this afternoon? What a daft question. We drove to his home in Cashel and went off to another stretch of the Suir. 

The river was narrower and fast running, but was deep and very clear. We were going to try upstream nymphing. Best done with a long rod, a leader the length of the rod and two to three nymphs. My cast was made up of a gold-head pheasant tail nymph on the point, heavy czech nymph on the bottom dropper and lighter czech nymph on the top dropper. The idea is to drop your team a rod’s length upstream and follow it downstream. To help the nymphs get down quickly, most of the line is kept out of the water to reduce drag, with just the tip submerged. 

George on another stretch of the Suir

Within 15 minutes George had 5 fish. Neil and I then followed him upstream. The takes were difficult to spot and some were mistaken for the bottom, but after a while we were striking at any hesitation in the polyleader. Soon after I had a nice fish of about 21cm on the heavy czech nymph and lots of misses. Neil also had a fish.  

One problem I experienced was the heavy middle dropper wrapping around the rod after each strike. As I was unravelling yet another tangle, a fish took the PTN which was dangling in the water a foot away from me. It is another of George’s recommended flies.

It was hard work wading upstream, waist deep against a fast current and we had forgotten our lunch, so we were pretty weary getting back. Neil stepped on the electric fence to cross it, walked forward a couple of steps and then took his rod from George, giving them both a shock. It was a good day with lots of tense concentration and yet another method of fishing the Suir.

My waders were leaking slightly in both legs now, but only enough to make my trousers damp.

This time we made it to dinner at the hotel and the steak was gorgeous.

I stayed long enough to enjoy two courses before heading back to the Suir for the evening rise.

It was a lovely evening and there were good hatches of olives, midges and later on a few sedges. Initially, Neil and I fished a team of nymphs, but kept catching the weed, so we moved on downstream and switched to dry fly.

I decided to fish from the bank as my waders were still leaking.

I had a couple of takes which I missed again. Then as the sedges came off in disappointing numbers, a good few fish started rising close in to both banks. 

Time for George’s magic sedge, I reckoned. It was already getting dark and I  cast to several fish to no avail. Then I spotted a rise 20 metres out and cast to it, there was a big splash as the fly passed over the fish, but it missed it completely. A little later, I saw it rise again and dropped the fly 20cm in front of it. This time it nailed the fly. It was not a big fish, about 17.5cm (7 inches) but was very fit and plump.

Then I saw two rises, one in front of me and another larger one close to the bank about 15 metres downstream. I tried trotting the fly downstream over the second rise, but it was ignored time and again, so I cast out to the fish in front of me.

Again, the fly was ignored, so I let it swing round towards the downstream fish. Just before it reached it, I tugged the fly underwater and pulled it towards me. There was an instant take and a better fish was giving me a decent battle using the current to put pressure on the rod.

It took a few minutes to bring in this 28cm (11 inch) trout. It was quite thin and took a while to recover, but did get away again.

Last brownie

I had another take using this tactic, but the hook pulled out of the next fish.

It was about 10.55pm and getting dark. As I made my way back up the bank, I stepped into thick mud and pulled hard to free my boots. As the second one came free, I realised the felt sole had been torn off down to the heel.  My companions were somewhat amused to see me hirpling back to the car like a goosestepping clown, the sole slapping against the boot with each step. I later found the other sole had been torn off completely.

Back at the hotel, James and Bob the Dog were surrounded by a bevy of local ladies and some of the others were quietly preserving themselves in Guinness and the excellent Tullamore Dew Irish whiskey. I joined them for a while, but headed for my bed just after 1am. Must be getting old or something.

 Monday

With my boots soleless, I opted for a lie-in. Ken and Thorsten were about the only ones to go out this morning. The weather was not nice anyway and they were back after a couple of hours. They had some good fishing with Thorsten taking a nice plump fish around 450g (1lb), but Ken’s waders were also beginning to leak and they were feeling a bit miserable with the persistent rain. 

The rest of the day was spent between the tackle shop and Irwin’s bar, before a final group meal at the Italian restaurant near the town square. It was a great meal in excellent company.

Irwins Bar, Lord Geoff, James, Quentin, Tim and Bob the Dog

Throughout the trip, the fishing was not easy, as the water level was reckoned to be a foot (30cm) higher than usual, but persistence, observation and some luck got us all some fish. The diversity and huge mileage of waters is a great advantage in fishing this area. Ken had found some good fishing despite the adverse conditions elsewhere. As an endorsement, the club is already booking a return trip this September and another next year.

  The group of tired anglers back at Shannon Airport