Alex Jardine fights a hangover and not the easiest of conditions to try for a trout, sea trout and salmon. Read how he gets on.
When the term 'Grand Slam' is used in fly fishing, one's mind immediately drifts off and starts to imagine wading on pristine sand flats and tussling with incredible saltwater species like Bonefish, Permit and Tarpon. We fishermen are competitive souls and the idea of a Grand Slam gives us something to show off about to our friends and other like minded anglers. Back in September I was invited to my friend, colleague and sea trout guru Steffan Jones' wedding in the heart of Wales at a town called Llandysul, granted that it is not known for its pristine sand flats or overly exotic species but I packed the rods and went in search of a Welsh Grand Slam!
Llandysul is a modest town and somewhat of a culture shock for someone residing in the south of England; the town's people are friendly and will even greet you in English, their second language. This community still clings on to its Welsh routes, and as Steffan's father put it, "the Welsh will always offer a warm welcome", and that is exactly what I received as each person I spoke to proceeded to wish me luck with my fishing.
My goal, aside from the celebration of Steffan’s marriage, was to try and achieve the desirable, to me anyway, Welsh Grand Slam. This feat comprises of the three Salmonids in these rivers; Salmon, Sea Trout and Brown Trout, and my hunting grounds for the two day quest were the Llandysul Angling Club (www.fishing-in-wales.com) waters on the River Teifi.
Day one on the river I only managed to tick Brown Trout off my list. The fishing was tough, or maybe it was the slight reluctance of my hungover state to allow me to fish with any conviction. I would like to think that everything else was to blame. I probably should have realised it wasn't going to be my day when before I had even made a cast, in fact my first step in the water had resulted in slipping straight over and sitting on an outcrop of bedrock! From this unplanned perch I watched the river, a lovely glide with the odd insect fluttering up and off the surface.
Now, somewhat more careful with my foot placements, I fished through lovely looking pools; some with long sweeping runs, others with deep gullies and managed to entice a few small Browns. It was when a mink started working the water opposite me that I decided to call it a day and hope for better luck the following day.
That evening I received some insider information on where to go the following day. Steffan runs a small guiding operation in Wales ( www.anglingworldwide.com) and I managed to extract information from a couple of his guides who know the river inside out.
With renewed faith and the lack of a hangover, I headed to the river, and the beat that should be my best chance of my goal. I set the rods up at my car, just simple techniques; a nymph rig to target the Brown Trout and a single-handed rod with a slime line and an Ally Shrimp for the salmon. The Sea Trout I was going to try and catch with both nymphs and swung flies.
I walked through a canopy of trees and, like a light at the end of the tunnel, the river flowed with magnificence. I was greeted by a run that just sloped off to the far bank with some very likely looking holding spots. I started off with the nymphing setup, and almost straight away I was in to a good fish, it held in the run and threatened to head off downstream. After a minute or two it tired, and a lovely Brownie of around 1lb 8oz came to the surface and into the net. The Brown Trout here are as wild as they come, with beautiful markings they’re a golden buttery colour with deep red spots and white fin tips.
One down, it was on to the next pool. It was a large, round pool with a carving run providing the angler with great optimism. It was described to me as the best salmon pool on the beat. I eagerly fished through the pool and with great confusion I failed to even feel a fish, especially after the Brown Trout were so willing in the pool below. I went through the pool once more, this time with the nymphing setup. As I reached the neck of the pool, the line gently pulled away. I lifted. There was a sharp pull back. A fish then shot past me. Unlike the Brown Trout before, it suddenly jumped clear of the water. Not huge but also not a Brownie. This small Sea Trout, or Sewin as they are known locally, brought great excitement on my light line equipment. I landed the fish and admired its sharp features and silvery colouration; I was now two thirds of my way to the Welsh Grand Slam!
I fished on into the afternoon and the weather began to deteriorate, a sprinkling of rain progressed into a full-blown horizontal downpour. The only thing to do was pull my hood up and get on with it. I manage more lovely Brown Trout, most of which were a healthy size around the 1 lb mark, but still no sign of any Salmon. Much to my surprise I enticed another Sea Trout; it was hiding underneath an overhanging bush and provided another excellent spectacle. Even through the rain its jumps were causing loud splashes and great excitement. This one was nearly 2 lbs, they were getting bigger!
Now severely wet and still only two thirds complete, the time had come to make the last cast… and with the final sweeping roll of the rod tip the fly drifted through another likely lie, and was left untouched… Had I failed? Well yes, but did I mind? Not at all, the fishing had been great, the landscape spectacular, the weather perhaps could have been better but I was left inspired to go back and take the challenge of the Welsh Grand Slam again!
Alex Jardine works for outfitters Aardvark Mcleod