Errwood Reservoir Day Tickets Now Available at The Wine Shop

From 30th March 2010, anglers wishing to fish at Errwood Reservoir, will be able to purchase their tickets at The Wine Shop in Leek.

The reservoir occupies 85 acres in an area of outstanding natural beauty in the Peak National Park between Buxton, Whaley Bridge and Macclesfield.

Fishing rights to Errwood Reservoir include the three feeder streams that form the headwaters of the Goyt. There is ample parking and plenty of fishing just a few yards away. For anglers who do not enjoy a long walk, the close proximity of a gentle sloping bank is much appreciated. Friendship and a chat about angling supplement a fine fishing venue.

Regular stockings take place throughout the season of well finned, high quality Rainbow Trout from carefully sourced, approved suppliers. For the 2010 season it is intended to stock fish between 2 and 6lbs with a number of even larger fish to supplement each stocking. In addition, Errwood sustains a population of indigenous wild Brown Trout to 1 1/4lb. These are hard fighting, take a small fly at lightening speed and will test even the most experienced angler.

Please click here to visit the Errwood Fly Fishing Club website for more info

Day tickets cost £15 each for a 3 fish limit. Buy a bottle of whisky from us when you collect your day ticket and we'll put a dram or two in your hip flask!

Leonie and David

Islay Hogmanay 2009

We're sitting in the dining room of the CalMac ferry," The Isle of Arran", the smaller of the two vehicle ferries that service the Hebridean Isle of Islay. 

I've just polished off a huge breakfast and am sitting reflecting on the amazing eight days we've spent on the Hebridean island of Islay whilst the ferry makes it's two hour journey from Port Ellen to Kennacraig on the mainland.

Bunnahabhain Distillery, our home for the week

The Paps of Jura, the view from number 5, Shore Road, Bunnahabhain.

Probably the most surprising aspect of our holiday was the weather. It was perfect. We had clear blue skies all week and the only rain we had was as we left number 5, Shore Road, Bunnahabhain Distillery this morning.

It really annoys me when folk, (usually English folk!) Presume that when you say you holiday in Scotland, you spend the whole time being rained upon and in desperate misery....and that is just the summer. I've visited Islay on around 30 occasions in the last 5 years and I can honestly say that, on the whole, the weather is always much warmer, and sunnier on this wee Hebridean Isle, than it is back home in the Staffordshire Moorlands. Yes, the weather can be extreme, there will be gales of frightening wind speeds and torrential rain, stopping air flights and ferry trips, but these are days for spending in front of a roaring fire with a large dram and a good book, or for tying a few loch patterns for the new Trout and Salmon season to come.

Saligo

Our trip began on 27th December. We left Leek at 6am so as to allow plenty of time to battle through any snow in order to get to our 6pm ferry on time. We arrived 3 hours early, the only snow we encountered was on Shap where the M6 was down to one lane.

After a busy Christmas at The Wine Shop, we were determined to have a relaxing week and we packed the van with enough food and beer, wine, port and whisky to feed an army for a month. We found that we weren't dashing around the island, ticking off must visit spots as we have done in the past, but instead, visiting one place per day and spending a good amount of time there. It was a joy to be back in front of a huge fire each night with a large dram to hand...usually Glendronach 18 yrs old or good old Cask Strength Laphroaig.

Loch Gorm, looking much different to the last time I visited it when I fished it with Glen Pointon and Peter Dracup in September.

Our most memorable outings were to Machir Bay (Kilchoman) and to the lovely beach at Saligo where the huge Atlantic rollers crashed onto a deserted, white, Hebridean beach, devoid of any other people or even any footprints of visitors from earlier In the day. A truly magical place. The river that flows into the sea here is sizable (by Islay standards), and flows from nearby Loch Gorm. I look forward to having a few casts for Sea Trout in the summer months.

The lighthouse at Port Charlotte, overlooking Loch Indaal towards Bowmore

As ever the bird life was amazing. We saw many Buzzard, Hen Harrier, Curlew and on our walks on the "Peat Road" at Bunnahabhain, we were guided by a relay of eager Robins, much to the delight of the chasing Katie, our less than intelligent Flat Coated Retriever. There were not many deer to be seen and the closest I got to one was late last night whilst walking Katie on the beach in front of our cottage in the dark. I heard and then saw, a large stag skitter up the pebbles and rocks on the shore. I presumed that, food being scarce during the big freeze on the hill, he'd ventured down on to the shore to look for scraps among the seaweed, flotsam and jetsam.

Geese making their way towards Loch Gruinart

Islay is home to much birdlife. This pic looks over Loch Indaal towards Bowmore, the round church just visible on the sky line

I'm still on the Isle of Arran and we're just passing the island of Gigha. The weather, quite predictably, is becoming much more dull, overcast and grim, as the distance between ourselves and Islay grows.

In October 1974, the Fleetwood trawler, "The Wyre Majestic" struck rocks whilst navigating the Sound of Islay. There it has sat ever since, just down the shore from Bunnahabhain Distillery

We enjoyed many evenings with friends from Islay and it was good to catch up with a few glasses of wine and a large dram or two....by far the highlight of these drams being a Single Cask 12 year old, incredibly heavily peated Bunnahabhain which was simply stunning. By contrast, we got to taste Bruichladdich's brand new blended Scotch Whisky...."Jim McEwan's Symphony number 1"...for reasons of diplomacy, no comment!

Much of my time was spent plotting and planning my fishing trips to Islay in the season to come. Where will I try this season? With what flies and techniques? Last year I had great fun with wee dry flies, largely ignored by local anglers. Their preference tends to be traditional wets such as Soldier Palmer, Kate Maclaren (Green Tail rather than Yellow), Butcher or Peter Ross. In September, Glen Pointon and I were having great fun taking dozens of fish on the dry LTD ("Living The Dream") and the F Fly. I'm certainly looking forward to trying these again in the season to come along with a few terrestrials.

Many of the waters looked totally different to how they are in the summer months, mostly iced over and where they weren't the water was deadly still with no sign of life whatsoever. I can remember many times making a mental note not to fall in!

Looking towards Bruichladdich and Port Charlotte from Black Rock, The Rhinns of Islay in a stunning winter sunset

Yesterday, we spent the entire afternoon at Black Rock on the Shores of Loch Indaal, Leonie being lucky enough to receive a kayaking lesson from Islay Studio's Mark Unsworth, as we enjoyed a Kelly Kettle brewed hot chocolate on the beach. I'm not saying that it was t-shirt weather, but it is good for the spirit to spend a good few hours in the sun in the depths of winter.

Looking towards Bridgend from Blackrock

Leonie in a Kayake in Loch Indaal on the 3rd of January 2010, as Leek sits under a blanket of snow and ice

Mark and Leonie return from their trip

If you are into fishing, birding, walking or simply having a wonderful, relaxing time, I would recommend the Isle of Islay above and beyond anywhere else in the United Kingdom. Yes, it's heaven to the whisky enthusiast, but Islay is not just about distilling, it is an Island rich in flora and fauna, steeped in history and of incredible natural beauty. We're incredibly gutted to be leaving it today.

Another amazing sunset, this time at Kilchoman (Machir Bay)

Nothing but bugger all separates this Atlantic Shore from Canada. A very peaceful place to be

We're heading in to Loch Tarbert and the small port at Kennacraig. The weather is dull and we are faced with a boring motorway drive this afternoon. Tim has just called to say that Leek and the Staffordshire Moorlands is under snow and that there are abandoned cars all over the place. We've called a couple of friends for weather updates desperate to hear that conditions are too bad to continue our journey back, eager to get straight back on the ferry and return to Bunnahabhain, and Islay.

Roll on the next time we're "Westering Home" to Islay.

I am looking forward to fishing Dovedale though!!

Anyone wishing to join us on one of our whisky or fishing trips (or both), please get in touch.

Feel free to leave a comment.

Slainte

David

Looking for the Ladies in the Land of Lunkers

Sunday 11th October. It's my first outing since the end of the trout season and the session of mixed blessings, where I bagged a couple of monster trout and then promptly erased all the pics I'd taken of them. I'd been gutted. Anyhoo, Johnny (Colemans) had been in touch to see if I fancied a fishing session somewhere and I suggested Milldale as I reckoned that some of the other local rivers may still be out of sorts with the rain that we'd had of late. So, at 10.30 sharp, we met up at Milldale, tackled up, had a brew and a natter, then made our way down to the Dove.

The weather was a little dull and there was a fair mist of drizzle, but the weather man had declared that by 1pm, things should start to improve. It wasn't wet enough to bother us, and it certainly wouldn't do the river any harm, given that it was as low as I've ever seen it and could have done with a little bit of colour.

I decided to rig up with a duo setup. I've been pretty successful of late with this method and confidence is riding high. I had a few casts into the first couple of pools and caught a brace of wee Grayling and dropped one too...all was looking good.

Johnny and I made our way down to Doveholes where we had lunch in the caves and chatted about angling, football and various other things that blokes chat about, and we devised a plan as to how we'd fish the rest of the day out.

We decided to walk straight down to Ilam rock, resisting the temptation to stop to fish en route. I had a good look for fly life on the way, and there didn't seem to be a great lot going on. Rises were very few and far between, all in all, everything was pretty quiet. We crossed the footbridge at Ilam rock and couldn't even see the monster Grayling that chill out there. We made our way up the Staffordshire bank of the Dove from the bridge, an area that I've never fished before, and in my opinion, the most beautiful part of the LADFFA stretch at Dovedale. Here you can get away from it all. Few folk walk up that way and the main footpath on the other bank is far enough away for its users not to bother you. The walkers, dogs, horses and day trippers never bother me at Dovedale, no matter how busy it gets. I enjoy the odd chat with some of them, it often forces you to take a break and to move on to a more promising swim. Sometimes though, you just want a bit of peace...and this is where you can find it, along with some cracking fishing.

It's much more like a stream up there. I'd say it's about 10ft wide and there are lots of riffles. The water hurries along over the lush green weed beds, and here and there, a dark patch winks it's fishy eyes at you and beckons you to cast, whilst the spindly branches of the trees on the far bank reach down to tickle the surface of the water and await your tippet and flies with glee.


I lost many, many flies..and it's become clear that I need a new rod for up there. My 8ft 4wt is about 2 foot too long as I need only to drop a fly in to the river right in front of me to have a chance of a take from an unsuspecting fish.

I cast into a dark hole about 6 foot in front of me. Each time I cast, I only had about 5 foot for the balloon caddis to travel before I would have to perform a quick flick to avoid a huge tangle with weed and debris. The caddis disappeared, I struck, well, lifted and a fish was on, bam, bam, bam, and then off. I cast again, 1 foot, 2 foot, gone, and the fish was on. A lovely, although accidental wild Brown Trout of just under a pound.

Monday 12th October. It was cold in the night. Certainly the coldest we've had since summer.

When I woke this morning and looked out of the window, the weather was beautiful, the sun was casting long dark shadows from the trees in the orchard, but in between them was betrayed the sparkle of the first frost of the autumn. I couldn't resist supplying my fly box with reinforcements to compensate for yesterday's numerate casualties, grabbing my rod, reel and waders, throwing them into the car, and racing down to my favourite Dovedale...just to see how this sharp change in the weather might affect things...science really, a bit of an experiment if you like.

I love the view towards Dovedale as you drive down through Blore Pastures. The entrance to the valley reminds me of a portal into a different world, a lost world almost reminiscent of those remote places in Africa, where explorers have reported sightings of creatures reported to have become extinct years ago. I find the dramatic change of scenery incredible, the second you leave the car park and walk up the valley. It's a place that, despite the millions of visitors that it receives each year, has remained largely unchanged for hundreds of years. It's magical.

I fished the pools on the way up to the stepping stones but it was way to cold, the frost had obviously had a detrimental affect on the fish and so I decided to walk all the way up to the little pool that I'd been fishing yesterday beyond Ilam rock. That way, I'd have walked the whole stretch between the two days. I arrived at the wee pool and started to cast. Yesterday, I must have found the perfect spot to fish from, as I never got into a tangle once and I was very relaxed with my fishing. Today, however, I couldn't stop getting into a mess, losing flies and swearing, most of the time at the top of my voice, and it was just not working, just not right. It was a cold walk up to there too. I'd put my warm hat and gloves on, and I was togged up to the eyeballs, as were the walkers that I saw and said hello to on the way up the path.

I decided to turn around and to head back. All the while, the sun was starting to creep into the valley and things were warming up pretty quickly. The air temperature was rising very quickly and I noticed that loads of fly life was starting to appear, it was clear that there were multiple, localised olive hatches going on...and the fish started to switch on.

I can honestly say that I've never seen so many rises all year so far, and none so violent. These were mostly trout, and I got the impression that the cold snap had given them a sharp reminder of what to expect in the near future, urging them to feed up for the winter months.

Eventually I arrived at the pool where I had had great success in my fishing session with Matt last week. I cast into the riffle at the head of the pool, into fast flowing water a maximum of 6 inches deep, with my balloon caddis and pheasant tail nymph duo setup.

Suddenly there was a huge explosion of water, I never saw the caddis disappear, I just jumped at the sudden, violent activity. It was clear I had a right scrap on my hands and the fish gave me the right old run around. I'd accidentally hooked a big 2lb wild Brownie, and it was livid.

I played him into shallow water, unhooked him (he'd taken the caddis) and quickly let him go. I had a cast in the spot where Matt had hooked into a massive fish last week, that sadly got away. Suddenly it happened again, there was a huge splash and flashes of silver and a good fish was on, twisting this way and that and darting up and down the swim at speed. By this time, a good half a dozen or so walkers had stopped to watch me so the pressure was really on.

I was desperate not to drop this one...what a start to my winter Grayling fishing, and what a confidence booster this would be if I managed to land him.

I would say that this was a minimum of 2lb and what we now know as a Proper Lunker. It's the biggest Grayling I've caught...ever..and I was chuffed to bits. If this is what Grayling fishing has to offer...bring it on..I'm loving it.

Dave