I have ( as I think I intimated in my last blog post) had a week off this week. I really needed a rest from work but in truth in many ways (physically at least) I have been working harder than ever, doing a lot of physical lifting and shifting in the garden as I build a new pond beside my new (nearly finished) patio. I am not building the Patio, that’s being done by ASAP Landscaping.
The old joint’s really aren’t thanking me but actually in many ways have been bearing up better than I could have hoped. Once I start though, I really need to keep going as stopping is fatal, I end up stiff as a board…..and let’s not start on about trying to sleep at night with the aches and pains afterwards.
Remembering my friend
On Friday I had a lot I could be getting on with, in this project but I had something much more important to do, and garden duties can take a breather. You see, last week ( Wednesday 15th), I lost one of my best fishing friends, Peter Forrest, who was a fellow committee member in SCAC. Friday (24th July) was to be Peter’s funeral but due to the COVID situation it was invitation only and limited numbers, so I couldn’t go to offer my respects.
I have known Pete for a number of years through the club and from attending outings, but really only got to know him reasonably well maybe this last three years, and I cannot tell a lie, I really liked him. A more likeable, modest, affable gentleman you could not hope to meet. I only fished with Peter on a true one to one basis a couple of times as Pete tended to fish with his best friend Bill at most outings, but I had the greatest of pleasure spending a day in Pete’s company last year on the clubs last outing to Lake of Menteith for 2019, and what ultimately was to be Pete’s last club outing. Peter had about a year earlier than that, shared with me the very concerning news that he had been diagnosed with Lung Cancer I think about 6 months previous ( this would be early 2018). While there are a lot more treatments for this, I think he and I knew how this was going to end. Funnily enough, it surprised me, as I don’t think I have ever seen Pete smoking and in fact, don’t think he had for years, but he told me he once worked in a cigarette factory and “fags were like sweeties”- his words.
As far as the club was concerned, we shared common goals and saw that some jobs just needed to happen, and Peter threw himself into many of the outstanding tasks that really needed someone to be able to attend to on week days. Due to his condition, which was at the time being controlled by new medical treatments, Pete had time and motivation to get the new boats to the loch and start looking at getting them usable ( balers and fittings) for the club. We also arranged between us boat maintenance, and a few other tasks. Pete also arranged the water’s stocking and club outings. He was a real workhorse but I guess knowing your time might be curtailed can drive you on, it gives you something to get up for each day and something else to think about. We would speak most weeks if not face to face then over the phone, and our blethers were often what filled the time of my daily lunchtime constitutional.
Towards the back end of last year though it became evident that his condition was worsening. Having recovered from his mid-winter issues somewhat, I met up with Peter and Bill at Orchill and spent a very, very cold day up there fishing in freezing fog. Bill had arranged access the boat for him and Peter as he was tiring quickly by then, but actually he did well, seeing the day through in what were brutally cold conditions and catching fish right up to the end. I saw Peter a couple of times during our early/pre season work parties to the loch for boat painting and launching, before fate dealt its cruellest hand by throwing the COVID grenade into the room.
Peter I think knew this season was possibly going to be his last chance to get some serious fishing done. I was delighted he went with Bill, down to fish some of the big water in England late last season ( I think it was Rutland they fished), slightly against the advice of the Dr’s but to paraphrase Peter, you need to go do stuff while you still can. They had a great time and Pete caught a peach of a Brownie on that trip in hard windy conditions.
But I think he knew 2020 was likely to be “it”. Pete loved the Lake of Menteith and was a regular attendee of their Wednesday night boat league, he also had gained access to the Birnam and Dunkeld club who run Butterstone Loch. (I am not sure but I think Pete had or had access to, a Caravan up that way). We had discussed plans to fish the loch this season as well as some interesting venues for club outings. Pete like me didn’t mind fishing new venues at all. I know he was raring to get out on the Lake again. All this was knocked into touch when that other big “C”, Covid came and lockdown followed.
We spoke most week’s on the phone and I could detect he was tiring. Just as lockdown started to ease a little and the shielding restrictions became less strict, I know Pete made what I think was to be his last outing on to the Lake with his son. I think it was the same day I fished Carron Valley this year. We spoke about 4 weeks ago on the phone. Pete told me then that he was given the very sad news he had until September “at best” but while it was clearly an emotional time he was still sounding as positive as you can be, tinged with the inevitability of it all.
I called him weekly and had really hoped the restrictions would have relaxed enough in time for me to be able to get round to see him but it wasn’t to be, I was calling him weekly the last few weeks ( usually a Wednesday as his treatment usually took place on a Tuesday and left him tired), but with the last few weeks of unanswered calls I knew this was not good. While it was very sad when Bill messaged me to say Pete was gone on the 15th, I can’t say it was a big shock, I knew it was coming.
Seeing a friend off.
I felt I needed to mark the day of Pete’s funeral, somehow and where better to go than spend some time at the Lake where we last fished? Peter loved the Lake and I think a wee bit of Pete will always be with me at the water now. In all ways, the fishing was totally secondary to just being there with some memories of happier times.
Funnily enough, Bill, Peter’s best mate and who was rightly invited to attend the funeral, had a similar thought to myself and went up to Orchill on Thursday evening as it was a place they fished together a few times a year. Bill caught a belter of a Brown Trout ( an unusual catch at Orchill at the best of times) that was 4lb on his last cast. Maybe Peter was looking over Bill’s shoulder there?
When I arrived at the Lake it was very bright sunshine and the water was nearly flat calm, as flat as the wake of boats leaving the beach will allow. There was nearly a “full house” of anglers and I think I only saw a couple of boats left on the beach later on. I headed up to the Malling shore where having read the report of this weeks Wednesday boat league, fish were caught that evening.
There was barely a breeze but what little there was, was pushing my boat into the westerly bank and the fringing lily-pads. I had a midge tip line on and a couple of Diawl Bachs with a foam bodies Daddy on point. When the cloud came over and covered the sun you would get a few fish showing here and there but nothing seemed to be getting caught on any boats around me. It seemed set for a tough day. I did notice the cloud thickening from the west and around 10 it came over and the fish came up with it. I had just repositioned the boat to drift in again and was totally convinced there were significant numbers of fish here if you could just get a wee break. With fish rising, I decided to switch to a floating line and dries.
The first cast with my new setup and the fly barely touched the water when it was snatched by a very powerful fish. After substantial acrobatics and not a little rapid line retrieval as I was far from tight to the fish as it took, I netted what was my biggest Lake fish to date, A long lean powerful Rainbow that I weighed in the net at about 7lbs but taking the 2.5lb weight of the fairly substantial net into account would have been a fish about 4.5lbs. It had taken a Yellow owl dry fly.
With that released and my flies sorted out it wasn’t long before I was stalking another fish. A Rainbow leapt from the water in the margins ahead of me then again, three metres to the right, and then again another three metres further right again, it was moving at a fair speed. I cast in the general vicinity where I thought it might be a couple of times and on the second or third cast it leapt from the water to take my fly and another lengthy tussle commenced with the fish leaping like a tarpon all over the place with cartwheels and everything.
I felt I was getting control ( and a few burnt fingers from the friction as it took off on powerful runs) when suddenly the line went slack, quite unexpectedly. Where was my leader? The welded loop on the end of my Cortland line had totally snapped off and the fish was away with all three flies and leader…..and presumably a small section of the fly line. I have had the mini-con or line loop that you put on some fly lines fail occasionally but this is the first time I have lost a welded loop…I must say I never fully trusted them anyway.
I didn’t have any super glue with me to fit a new line loop, so put that line away and changed to another floating line I had in my box. A Rio Perception non-stretch line. The wind then changed and it got I have to say much cooler and the fish activity stopped almost totally on top. By chance, I ended up drifting out by the Dog isle and definitely encountered a pod of fish here too. By now I was fishing a Cats Whiskers Booby on point and a pale olive Cruncher and Diawl Bach on the droppers. I missed one fish through inattention and there were a few difficult to see swirls at my fly ( there was by now a slight wave, more than a ripple).
Then bang! Another huge take and another lengthy fight with long fast runs and me pulling in line as fast as I possibly could before netting yet another personal best fish from the Lake for me. This fish was comfortably 2 feet long, and in taking the net weight into account weighed in over 5lb. It took quite a bit reviving it has to be said after the lengthy tussle and it was tricky removing the barbless pale olive Cruncher from inside its mouth but it swam off after a rest in the net.
What an exciting morning, but I wanted to take a break and remember Peter so moved round behind the island for a wee bit privacy and had a wee toast of Malt whisky for my absent friend Peter. I don’t actually even know if Peter liked whisky, I only ever seen him drink Lager but his dram went in the Lake where I feel a little bit of his spirit will always reside.
Farewell friend, you will be missed.
My condolences go out to Peter’s wife ( Linda) and family.
After my interlude I resumed fishing, I fished around Sam’s point, not seeing much, I then crossed over to the Butts where quite far out from the bank I had a few pulls and lost a fish through being too slow to realise I was in.
I had another drift around the Dog Isle and had some great fun follows with huge wakes behind the fly all the way in and a couple of pulls that never stuck and then finally as I was tiring I stopped at the edge of Gateside Bay heading to the Rookery where I hooked another Rainbow of about 2.5 lbs right on the edge of the water with an almost static line. I only realised I was in as the Booby ducked under. This Rainbow Trout showed signs of a previous encounter with a Heron or Cormorant.
An enjoyable day out. Did Peter’s spirit have some influence on my day. I am not a religious man at all, I don’t believe in God’s, invisible cloud beings or even fairies but it’s nice to think Peter was calling in a few favours for me this day and having a wee chuckle as he did so.
