Join James and Katie Harrold on a road trip to South Uist
It's 519 miles from Barley House to the ferry terminal at Mallaig. A further 60 miles across the mercifully calm North Atlantic to Lochboisdale on the Outer Hebrides island of South Uist.
I know, its a bloody long way to go for three day's fishing. In a tent.
The problem is as follows. South Uist is a relatively small piece of land, most of which is completely covered in a maze of interconnected lochs, tiny burns and shoreline. Add to this a “road” going straight up the middle and nothing either side but wilderness, a scattering of houses and the unique machair on the west coast.
With rare wildlife, unique historic sites steeped in history, wild ponies and some of the biggest and prettiest wild trout you’ll ever catch in Europe. See what I mean?!
The history of the island is also pretty amazing and kind of a big deal. Bhornais on the west coast was the largest Viking settlement in Scotland and the island is covered in their remains, chambered tombs and other archaeological sites. Cladh Hallan is the only site in the British Isles where mummies have been found and the remains of roundhouses in the area can still be seen today.
Then there is the Machair on the west, the low lying coastal plain with its continuous sandy beaches and incredible lochs, no more than a stones' throw from the sea.
For me, the diversity of the landscape is probably the most impressive thing about the island. Look west and on a sunny day you’d think you were in the Med, turn around and you’re confronted by the peaks of Beinn Mhor and Hecla and suddenly you remember where you are. With the national nature reserve of Loch Druidibeag in between, you really are spoilt. The topography of the landscape ensures that even if it’s been a bad day at the office and you’re a bit deflated there is guaranteed to be somewhere on South Uist to pick you up. If not, drive out on the Sgiopoirt road and see my new friends. Take them an apple or carrot and they’ll be most grateful, I’m sure they’ve been a sounding board for many anglers over the years!
Before I start, let me emphasise one thing. There simply isn’t enough research or planning you can do before making a trip like this.
I only had three days on the island and wanted to make the most of every single minute.
The weeks leading up to it were spent planning, researching lochs, best areas, access, weather, methods, flies and everything else which should see me do this trip justice. Sounds odd, but for me this is part of the adventure, this is where I leave for a few hours a week or a couple of minutes a night after putting the kids to bed, tie a couple of flies, browse a map or read an extract from a book. It’s like fuel for the main event and I love that stuff.
A quick four hour ferry crossing and we were there. Husband and wife, angler and gillie. (oops!) The sun was setting in front of us as we drove up the ramp and onto terra firma. The island was eerily quiet and the most life we saw was half a dozen sheep as we made our way south west to the campsite,
A combination of excitement and one of the eeriest feelings I’ve ever had came as we followed a camper van on the narrow single track road heading south west to the campsite, a scene from a popular horror movie sprung to mind!
I won’t bore you with how difficult it is to erect a tent in the wind, or how little sleep we managed that night, or even how Katie had TWO sleeping bags and was still cold as the anticipation of that first morning on the water overshadowed everything else.
Like a kid on Christmas morning I awoke early and annoyed Katie immediately with my enthusiasm to get in the car and leave the tent to South Uist's finest easterly.
We had a rough plan in our minds of where we wanted to fish, the content we needed from the trip and what we wanted to get out of it but it's funny how that all goes out the window when you get overcome with the excitement of a new challenge in such inspiring places. There are two things I’ll never forget about our time on Uist.
The first is the wind. A blustery easterly battered us for the duration and peaked with 50+ mph gusts. You’ve not fished in the wind until you’ve fished on South Uist.
The second was the first cast I made into Outer Hebridean waters.
We arrived at Loch Toronais. Famous machair and beautiful and regarded by many as one of the best angling club lochs and full of features with its rocky, wiggly shoreline and bays.
It was still pretty early and fish were showing. I sat down in the heather, composed myself and opted for a couple of dead certs that I hoped would fool a fish or two.
You couldn’t have written it. My first cast landed out into that choppy machair wilderness and after a quick straightener and a couple of tweaks I felt that familiar feeling reverberate through the senses. No disrespect to the species, or their habitat but I’ve fished a fair few Scottish lochs now and I know they are all different but there is usually one constant. The average wild loch trout is modest, absolutely beautiful, full of character and each and every one of them makes me smile, but usually modest. This fish, the first fish on South Uist was not one of those.
An angler can tell from the first time he feels the fish through the rod and line, whether it be the frantic little jingle of a 6oz hill loch trout or a deep thud on the bass drum of a larger resident. This was a definite thud, a procession of thuds and on the third, as the rod was bent double a shake of the head and it parted company, leaving me shaking and wondering what could have been. Loch Toronais you’ve got me forever now! Luckily everything was still intact and after another couple of casts another take, slightly smaller fish by the feel of it but strong nonetheless and very wily. As soon as it was hooked it swam as fast as its motor would allow straight towards me and no amount of gathering line, lifting the rod or stumbling backwards was going to keep up with it and it too was gone…clever, clever fish!
I loved it, although in that first hour I must have made contact with at least six good fish and not managed to land one of them, it was getting comical and my gillie, camera poised was not impressed! The following fish however did hang on and what a fine sight it was, my first South Uist brown trout, a lovely fish of about a pound and a half and an exceptional fighter, so strong it had my arm aching, yes really and not even a 2lber! Caught on a Blue Zulu and actually showing a mysterious resemblance to the fly with a mauve and almost steel blue tinge to its flanks.
Looking back, that first morning was probably as good as it was going to get in terms of conditions over the next few days. By lunchtime the wind had picked up dramatically and the sun shone without a cloud in the sky.
A couple more hours and a few more dropped trout and it was angler 4, Toronais, probably 12. With my first South Uist loch under my belt I was feeling relieved, challenged and very excited about what the island had to offer over the next couple of days.
We decided to travel a couple of miles north to Loch Druidibeag and try and get out of the wind. There was a road skirting the loch with a little walk down the hill to the water's edge and more importantly a little windbreak from the persisting gale which was trying its hardest to send me into the drink (which it did on a couple of occasions).
Druidibeag is part of the island's nature reserve and such a diverse habitat for all that inhabit the water, banks and numerous islands. It’s pretty shallow, which makes life difficult when it’s bright and that was evident when fishing.
Lots of splashy takes to the infamous Blue Zulu, usually when lifting off close to the bank as if the fish were having a last ditch attempt to grab the fly before it was too late, even if they were blinded by that horribly bright yellow thing above them.
I managed a few fish from the sheltered bays further round the loch and again, missed just as many. I could’ve happily spent all three days exploring Druidibeag and would’ve been quite content getting to know this endless piece of water.
I knew this was quickly becoming a recce trip and that South Uist had ignited a lusting that would last a lifetime. This was potentially the first of many visits to this wild island.
We headed south back to the campsite, stopping occasionally along the way to admire the view or peer into the roadside lochs.
The tent started calling to us. Not because of its unrivalled comfort or the thought of an evening meal out of a tin, but because we were both wondering if it would even still be attached to terra firma. Thankfully it was, just, and after a few minor adjustments to guy ropes and pegs she was all ready for the night ahead.
I think we both saw every hour on the iphone clock that night and prayed for a reasonable hour to arrive so we could get out of the noisiest sleeping environment imaginable and into the waders and boots. After a quick slurp of hot coffee flavoured liquid it was in the car for day two.
Windy?! I’ll let you decide. We drove out of the campsite and stopped on the shore to get something out of the boot and couldn’t open the car door. I love a challenge!
The sun was shining and it was actually a lovely day, not anything like perfect for fishing but for everything else in life, windsurfing, flying a kite, generating electricity; it was perfect! It was our intention to go back to Toronais, the first loch from yesterday but after a quick look, the wind had taken its toll and the water was almost rusty orange in colour so we headed north to a selection of lochs hopefully a little more sheltered from the wind. Tuirc, Loch a Mhuilinn and Loch an Iasgair two of which were in a little basin and a little less likely to be battered by what would now be considered a serious gale in Norfolk. We tramped around all three, didn’t get a touch and didn’t see a fish. A seriously lovely place to be and I wouldn’t want to blank anywhere else in the world. You cant help thinking that little lochs like this don’t get fished much, you never see any evidence of human presence, footprints or litter (apart from the stuff that has blown of people's roofs!) and its places like this that can throw up some real surprises. My morning's fishing however didn’t throw up any surprises other than the fact that I was surprised I didn’t even see a fish.
On to the next area, the wind farm lochs. We called in to see a local guide and now South Uist resident Andy Coyne and his wife. Andy had been enormously helpful when planning the trip and answered countless emails regarding what was now essentially his back yard. We had a quick cuppa and talked all things piscatorial.
What Andy doesn’t know about the fishing and lochs on the Uists and Benbecula isnt worth knowing and his help was invaluable. The wind was the obvious problem during our short stay so he pointed out another couple of lochs on the map to try and we set off towards the wind farm track and the mighty Loch Caslub.
Read anything ever written about this loch and words like, Legend, Monsters, Unknown and Dour frequently come up. It is known to be very hard, but also to hold huge fish and although not likely to throw up many days when you would fill your boots, the potential for a real fish of a lifetime can come from Caslub.
It seems very fertile, with plenty of marginal weed, plants and fly life. It also runs directly into the sea at its most easterly point so there is a good chance of sea trout in some areas.
I was excited as we walked down the surprisingly lush, grassy bank to the boggy shores of this legendary piece of water. The guide books say NOT to wade and after being only ankle deep you can see what all the fuss is about. Caslub has a very soft marginal fringe, like quicksand. I didn’t dare go above six inches deep as I knew from the feel of the stuff that anything more could mean getting messy, wet and more than a stern look from my gillie! I walked around a little westerly bay and down a fishy looking narrow channel which joined the main loch to its little arms and then it happened. I cast my duo of Caslub temptations across the wind as far as my fast little rod could manage and started a quick, jerky retrieve. A bang on the business end sent images of 5lb wild behemoths flashing in front of my eyes and the sort of runs that leave you trying to think back to the time you tied that backing knot. Alas, this wasn’t going to stress any knots or break any records but it was a fish on the notoriously hard Caslub and the first of the day and I was happy. A beautiful little half pounder.
I cast again and again but with no reward and we kept on walking and fishing all the way to the end of the loch. Tempted to go further down and to the sea channels we were put off by both the wind and the prospect of trying other lochs in the area, of which there are many.
Next came Lochanan Ruadh an Ligidh, a sheltered loch out of the wind and shallow in the south east corner, with a little weed starting to show. First cast moved a fish and on the second it took. The mighty Blue Zulu yet again proving that of the six or seven hundred flies I had brought with me, only one was needed…and I was down to my last two!
A few more casts later and another, similar in size to the first and really pulling.
I clambered down the south end of the loch expecting fish to be held up in the shallow, fertile, weedy water but didn’t move any. You could easily lose yourself for a whole day loch hopping in this area and if it hadn’t been for what was now getting on for unfishably windy, I would have happily stayed until dark.
Wanting to try and experience as much water as possible we quickly moved on to the last loch earmarked on the map, Druim an Iasgair.
Iasgair was probably the most appealing loch given the conditions. There was an old farm track which leads right to the end of the loch and a little slope just before the water edge, so relatively sheltered. I jumped out before the car had even come to a halt as I had a feeling about this place. Everything looked right. The wind was blowing over the east bank and even though 50+ mph gusts were battering everything in sight, almost flat calm water greeted me as I snuck under the bank and got ready for the first cast. There was a little island halfway down the loch and plenty of little channels, bays and narrows to provide sanctuary for fish. My first cast left the rod tip, sailed into the air and was grabbed by South Uist's easterly, emptying the spool and landing into the white horses on the far side of the channel. A couple of short pulls later and the now somewhat bedraggled Blue Zulu was snaffled. This fish pulled back hard and although I assumed I could gain line quickly it had other ideas.
Couple this with a rod tip waving around in high winds and 20+ yards of fly line acting as a kite and this fish felt like a monster. I was also trying to catch the attention of Katie, who had decided to stay in the car and out of the wind, so I was playing a fish whilst gesticulating like a mad man for her to bring the camera.
I eventually got the fish to the shore and after a close range tussle, scooped the net under a fine Iasgair trout of about a pound and a half…Not a monster but compare it to a similar size from a farm and it's not even in the same league.
I fished on in this area of the loch and caught another few fish, all of a similar size. Baffled by the strength and resilience of these wonderful creatures we left Iasgar very happy with what was fishing in difficult conditions.
Phuirt-rhuaidh on the way home was completely different. By now the sun was really strong and it actually felt like being on a summer holiday rather than a fishing trip in the Outer Hebrides. Clambering down the roadside rocks and slipping into the crystal clear water made me want to chuck the waders on the bank and go for a dip! I resisted and got into a right old tangle on the first cast, wrapping my D loop round the rocks behind me.
A bold little trout leapt at my flies not more than 12 feet away, this looked promising. I skirted the roadside bank of the loch and managed to pick up a few fish, nothing over a pound but beautiful. These fish were completely different to the hill loch fish earlier, probably due to their size. Metallic colours and dark spots were replaced with contrasting bold colours and bright red spots, both were extraordinarily beautiful. After half an hour, a slip on the rocks and a wet leg I had banked four fish and it was time to call it a day. One more to go…
We awoke the next morning to a puncture, nearside front. The windfarm track the day before had taken its toll. Being the last day on the island and having not seen a garage or even a petrol station since arriving I was sure we would be spending our final day begging, stealing or borrowing to enable us to get the car back on the mainland in the morning. Luckily this wasn’t the case. To cut a long story short, we got enough air in the tyre to get us to the guys at Laird? Garage in Lochboisdale and after half an hour we were back on the road. Faith in humanity completely restored with the kind of friendly service that any company should aspire to?
We swung by Toronais…again. This place had me hooked, so I very optimistically wanted to see if it had miraculously cleared from the day before. It was still very windy and no was the answer. We knew Druidibeag was a good bet for getting out of the wind so we drove to the corner of the loch and Katie dropped me off to go exploring other parts of the island for a couple of hours.
I moved a larger than average fish at range after only a few casts which resulted in nothing but was good to see.
After what seemed like only 10 minutes Katie returned having found some lovely beaches and had a trip over to Eriskay? We wandered round to the boat bay and had six lovely fish in about half an hour, one or two were over a pound and fought like demons in the shallow water. By now I was scraping the barrel, my Blue Zulus were knackered and now more like a Zlue Bulu. There was something about them however which the fish couldn’t resist. That pearl rib and light blue hackle still just about hanging on for dear life made all the difference and they wouldn’t touch anything else.
We explored five more lochs that afternoon with three fish off Loch an Eileen being the last three of the trip. A wander into the hills resulted in a pleasant couple of hours in the wilderness and a amazing view of the south of the island but not a touch.
The sun was beginning to set as I made my last cast on the vast Dun na Cille and as I nipped off the flies and turned to head back to the car I had a feeling of enormous gratitude to the place I’d spent my last few days. The people were out of their way friendly, happy and content with their island life and part of me envied the simple pleasures that civilisation on the mainland misses out on.
There is a real sense of community in these parts and you can’t help thinking that a lot can be learnt from this way of life. It is the history of the place and the extreme environment which makes this lifestyle both idyllic and challenging at the same time.
I have enormous respect for the people of South Uist and the small businesses which operate on these islands.
The fishing was out of this world beautiful… The lochs, of which there are several hundred, are so diverse there really is something for everyone. Whether it is wading on the club lochs for brown trout or fishing the prestigious estate lochs for salmon or sea trout, South Uist is guaranteed not to disappoint.
A word or two about my findings…
I specifically set out to fish only the SUAC lochs, which covers most water on the island. There are a handful of Estate run lochs which require a separate permit and generally require fishing from a boat and the aid of a gillie to make the most of the day. I prefer roaming around, wading and fishing light. There were a few things which I genuinely could not have done without. The 453 OS map, either digital or old school makes getting around so much easier and pinpointing your location with the smartphone version is invaluable in unknown places.
Next was the Single Handed Spey line from RIO. Anyone who knows me will know that I rave about this line anyway. We sell loads in the shop and I recommend them to all my clients who are wanting to take up the sport. In the wind on South Uist it was invaluable. I would say that over 75% of my casting throughout the three days was roll or adhesive style casting due to the wind and when you get it right you can empty a spool (the wind also helps!).
Then there is my trusty old Vision Mag 9’ #4/5. I must admit, I did rather optimistically take a selection of rods and desperately wanted to use the new ONKI 10’ #3, but there was not a hope in hell it was coming out of its tube in those winds. The Mag is super-fast and teamed up with the Single Spey line in a #5 is a match made in heaven…But boy do those Uist trout know how to bend it double!
Next was a decent pair of waders and boots. I covered this in my piece about the Shetland Isles, but it is so essential to ensure you are comfortable and dry, especially when spending up to 14 hours a day in waders! And the Vision Hopper boots are a godsend and as comfortable as an old pair of slippers, enough said!
Lastly, a big thank you to my beautiful gillie who braved the wind and put up with my incomprehensive lusting for wild fish no matter what the conditions, time of day or tent threw at us… she has the patience of a saint, takes a mean photograph and would go back tomorrow if only to see those wild little ponies on the Sgipoirt road.
We fished 19 lochs in three days and caught a total of 33 fish. The weather made life difficult but it only makes me want to return next spring to see what this amazing island has to offer. Hopefully the fishing gods will have a slightly better forecast planned…
James Harrold owns and runs Rocklands Mere fishery. Please visit his website for more details
