Our rather overloaded longliner wallowed her way from Dornie and along to Kylerhea. On board were 3 chunky anglers (Ian, Trev and me) and a load of fishing and camping gear, so my 25hp was definitely outgunned! Fortunately the tide was with us as we ran the narrows and popped out into the Sound of Sleat 🙂
Dropping anchor in around 200 feet a little way off Glenelg, we got to work. We’d caught a load of small mackerel off Eilean Donan castle so these were sent to the bottom and we settled back for some action.
Unfortunately, settling back was all we did. There was barely any interest at all the entire afternoon. I managed a nice run from a tope but it dropped the bait before I could set the hook. Apart from that – nothing, zilch, nada…
By late afternoon we’d had enough and thoughts turned to sorting out a base for the night. We stopped ashore briefly to collect wood for our campfire and then chugged down to the Sandaigs. Ian and I camped here last year so knew a decent spot for the boat and tents.
The sun had now set and the midges were playing, so Ian and Trev sorted out a smokescreen whilst I parked the boat just offshore.
It was dark by the time dinner was bubbling away on the fire, apart from the stars and an almost full moon. I checked the boat a couple of times as she dried on a patch of sand – I definitely sleep more soundly when I know she’s safe overnight! A beer to wash down (or wash away!) dinner and it was time to hit the sack.
Reveille
Next morning was clear, calm and beautiful as I kicked my companions awake. We rekindled the fire for midge protection and downed mugs of coffee as we prepared to head out again.
Today we headed further into Loch Hourn, trying a couple of spots I’ve not been to before. First up was a group of shallow reefs that sit bang in the middle of the loch, breaking the surface at low water. We chucked plastics, metals and sabiki style rigs at the place but it appeared largely devoid of life.
I picked up a modest pollack in the sub-3lb category and Ian had a couple of smaller fish. I also managed my first lure caught wrasse but that was more or less it.
Next up we moved to the southern shore of Hourn, anchoring up on shelving ground covered in prawn pots. Not far from a fish farm either, so it seemed a decent bet.
We waited a while, baking in warm autumn sunshine, and eventually spurdog joined the party. Big ones too – Ian and I both had ones around 17 -17.5 lbs and Trev wasn’t far behind.
Unusually, these fish showed up on sonar as we could see good marks of fish as spurries started to bite. Possibly these were small shoals of whiting or mackerel being attacked but individual fish also appeared.
We fished on through the afternoon but there was no sign of anything else apart from spurries.
Heading back to the Sandaigs as the sun set over Skye, we enjoyed the fabulous coastline on the north side of Hourn.
More campfire, more beer 🙂 Dinner tonight was steak and potatoes, burnt to perfection over the fire.
Day 3
We awoke to another beautiful, calm morning on the Sandaigs – but today we had to break camp before we hit the water. Packing away dew-sodden tents is hardly fun but we got the job done quickly enough and warmed our hands over the fire. A couple of mugs of coffee later we hit the water again.
First drop produced nothing except weed and a strong tide run, so we upped anchor and moved closer to Glenelg for another try.
Here there was less tide and less weed, but not much sign of fish either. It was starting to looking like a re-run of our first afternoon…
With only a solitary tope to show for the morning we decided to have a try at the Port Napier wreck. Neither Ian nor Trevor had seen this impressive mass of rusting WWII minelayer before so it seemed worth the detour for that alone.
I kept the boat from impaling herself whilst Trev and Ian lobbed lures, trying to catch any mines that navy salvage teams had missed. Fortunately, all they managed were a few smallish pollack and some faintly dodgy looking slime.
We made it back to Dornie just a little too early to get on the slip, so finished the trip with a tour down Loch Long as we waited for the tide to rise. By the time we hauled out Dornie seemed more like a river in flood, roaring along on one of the largest tides of the year. I was very glad the slip sits in a little eddy!
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