Part of the fun of fishing around the west coast is exploring new territory from time to time. You need decent weather but there are plenty quiet nooks and crannies along this coastline. So, after a long winter I happily seized the opportunity for a closer look at Loch Nevis and Loch Hourn.
My plan was a longish run from Dornie down towards Mallaig, to get into Nevis and then Loch Hourn and have a look around. I elected to head south into Nevis and work back from there, with a couple of nights boat camping along the way.
My original plan was to camp on Knoydart near the entrance to Loch Nevis, so I stopped off to check out my options. All good on a nice wee beach, except for a light but steady swell. Nothing major, but enough to make me rethink a little, as I didn’t want to be exposed to any squalls overnight.
Sourlies
Still thinking about it, I headed along the loch to Sourlies bothy, which lies at the very head of Nevis. This had nothing to do with fishing, but it was almost exactly 40 years since I’d last set foot in the place. Pure nostalgia, nothing else!
I could stop at Sourlies but this meant being badly positioned for fishing and for heading north tomorrow. I decided to make it back to Loch Hourn, and spend two nights there instead. Working back from sunset, and allowing time to find a mooring, this meant I’d only a brief shot at fishing Nevis itself.
With zero information on Nevis, my choice of mark was inevitably a bit random. However, I tucked in close to the bottom of an underwater slope to 250 feet and dropped baits to the ooze below.
Some heavy squalls came and went over the next two or three hours, and much coffee was quaffed, but the fish remained completely unimpressed. Not a nibble 🙁
Returning to Hell
Time marched on and I needed to get going again in order to reach my mooring in Hell. (OK, the Admiralty name it Hourn, but Hell sounds better – I explain at the end of this post!). Not much of a wrench since there was nothing doing here! Bouncing along the light swell for another 90 minutes I reached Loch Hourn and a promising little bay to hole up in.
Scouting the stony beach and grassy shoreline I reckoned this would do fine for a couple of nights. Hauling my usual mass of food and gear ashore I set up my little tipi tent and generally sorted things out.
With the sun heading for bed and the light fading, I sparked a campfire into life and prepared dinner. Just my usual fallback tonight, steak and potatoes. Tasty, and easy to cook when you’re too tired to bother with fussing about preparing anything!
Exploring Loch Hourn
I awoke to a calm but grey morning, and a pair of otters playing around my boat – not that they hung around once they clocked my ugly presence on the shoreline. I bumbled around camp as a smirr of rain and a little breeze greeted my efforts to prepare breakfast. Finally sufficiently caffeinated, I hauled the Orkney ashore and headed out on the loch.
I’d sussed out two or three spots to try on Hourn, the first of which was only 10-15 minutes away. A few years ago I tried near here from the shore but hit nothing but snags on the retrieve – hopefully life would be easier afloat!
I had to wait a while but the fish did come on. Not frantic fishing, but a series of decent spurs came aboard. The biggest made it into double figures (just), but most were 6-9lb fish.
I also managed a nicely marbled thornback ray but no sign of it’s bigger brothers.
I could have spent all day here, but I wanted to try a few different places and get a better feel for Hourn. Up-anchoring, I shifted a mile or two before setting out my stall again.
Here I was within shouting distance of another bothy, this time at Runival. It was deserted, but I was good and didn’t go ashore, concentrating on my fishing instead…
…which was probably a poor choice. My total catch amounted to a single small crab. Still, I couldn’t complain about my surroundings – high mountains and some fine Scots pine. I could spot the odd deer hiding amongst them and keeping a wary eye me.
However, a couple of hours of this was enough. Heading west, returning to the main body of the loch, I hit a stiff breeze and a bit of tide. Nothing to worry about, but pretty frigid stuff. Crossing the loch I found a bit of shelter towards the south shore and dropped anchor on a likely patch.
There was a smattering of spurdog present here and I picked up a handful, although none over 6 or 7lb. The final straw was a magnificent braid tangle that had line floating all around the boat. At least it was old line, so I didn’t have too much hesitation in cutting it clear. The last thing I wanted was braid around my prop many miles from home!
Dinner – and a sleepless night
Back ashore I sorted out the Longliner for the night and then started to get dinner on the go. This time I was being a little ambitious, trying some form of chicken korma-esque camp cooking. And, to be fair to the cook, it turned not too bad at all.
All was calm when I hit the sack, and next morning was simply stunning. Just a shame about the bit in between! I awoke in the early hours to the sound of squalls battering my tent. Staggering along the bouldery beach in the rain I did confirm my wee boat seemed OK, but I’d a sleepless couple of hours until the winds subsided. A reminder that the weather can be pretty unpredictable when you’re surrounded by mountains!
It was still early as I packed away a sodden tent and prepared my getaway. Cruising slowly along in the sunshine, the north shore of Hourn looked very appealing. Perhaps some shore potential here, although not so easy for a tent to find space.
Sleat
Pushing on past the temptations of the Sandaig Isles, I headed to a mark on the Sound of Sleat. This was the only mark I’ve fished before on this trip, and I felt entitled to give one a try! Besides, I needed some breakfast and the place is a very beautiful spot to while away a couple of hours.
I duly had my calories and enjoyed my scenery – but remained stubbornly fishless. Since I’d one more place to try before I headed home, I didn’t bang my head against this particular wall for too long!
Port Napier Pollack
Sweeping back through the Kylerhea narrows I headed into Loch Alsh and the wreck of the Port Napier. I’ve never tried here before, and was a little surprised at the sheer size of the beast. She lies on her starboard side with the jagged remains of port side showing above the water. You can read her history for yourself, but she’s an impressive tangle of steel.
The wind and tide were just perfect for exploring her and I drifted gently along the full length of her starboard side. Pollack soon started to hit my leadheads and I pulled a few aboard. Mainly small fish, less than 3lbs, but all good fun.
A few drifts later and something a good bit larger hit me and put a lovely bend in my spinning rod. This fine pollack eventually graced my net and was a lovely finale to great little trip.
Finally, I feel I should explain the title of this post a little, as this trip was anything but hellish! Loch Nevis translates from gaelic as Heaven, whilst Loch Hourn is Hell. Hence Knoydart is often described as lying between Heaven and Hell.
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Hi Doug,
Ah, you’ve found one of my favourite bays for a kayak fishing/camping trips 🙂 I usually pitch on the end of the island as it’s usually a bit more sheltered from the prevailing wind. There is usually some decent spurs close by, well, more decent than most of the Etive pups anyway, and the cliffs at the mouth of the loch, on the south side, are worth a paddle, cuckoo wrasse are always welcome as they are so gorgeous, and some decent pollack there too. Like you, I’ve never had much up inside the inner loch though, just mini whiting and saithe, stunning views though.
I wasn’t aware of the Port Napier, but it looks like it could be a fun wee paddle, I’ll have to add it to my to-do list.
Hi Paul,
When I was checking out campsites for this trip I could clearly see a couple of kayaks and tents on that little bay, so I was pretty confident it’d be OK. You can never be sure until you get there though – one advantage kayaks have is that they can sneak ashore in places where I’d be reluctant to leave a boat overnight. I’ll be back again at some point!
I had perfect conditions for the Port Napier but I wouldn’t want to fish it in any significant breeze as you’ve got a good chance of being blown onto some metalwork. It’s certainly an experience, although probably quite a heavily fished one.
Cheers,
Doug
Nice scenery & nice fish, I’ve stood on the shore there & loved it. Looks a very peaceful camping spot too, shame about the night time weather, but at least you lived to tell the tale! Keep up the good work.
Hi Ash – definitely a very pretty loch, especially as you head inland, and I doubt it sees too many visitors except hikers and kayakers. I suspect the night time weather wouldn’t have felt so bad in the daylight or in more familiar territory but it was quite a contrast to the beautiful calm loch I awoke to next morning!
Cheers,
Doug
Sounds like an excellent trip Doug, showing what can be done with a bit of planning and imagination, and some helpful weather. Stunning pictures – always a joy to read and view. Hoping to be up there late this year, but I feel the weather won’t be so good, but hope to try a few shore pitches on Hourn north shore. Glad you explained ‘Hell’ too!
Hi Martyn,
There’s a good path runs along much of the north bank, although lining up a decent camping spot with a fishing mark might be a bit trickier. I’ve only been along there once, which you can see at the tail end of this video – https://youtu.be/tDJ9OjIyz6w – from about 13:30 onwards (not sure it’ll provide any enlightenment!)
Cheers,
Doug
Thanks Doug!
Hi Doug,
I know Hell well, and stay in one of the bothys nearer the head of the loch along from Runival.
We do much pollock, mackerel and sea trout fishing but have never had any spurdog.
Do you have any more specific locations where you caught them and any tips for a better chance of success?
Really enjoy your videos
Thanks again
Hi Richard,
Most of my fishing in that area has been in the Sound of Sleat between the Sandaig Isles and Glenelg and we’ve caught spurs from everywhere we’ve tried fishing – just not every time we’ve tried! Generally I’m dropping anchor in 150-200 feet and then fishing mackerel baits on the bottom.
I’ve only really fished Hourn itself once – on this trip – and tried 3 different spots. Just west of Runival there is a deeper spot charted at 39m and this was a complete blank. A little further west, opposite the boat house at Barrisdale, there is another hole at 49m and most of the fish came from here (I also spent longest trying here). The final spot was a rather random mark fairly close in and about 60m deep perhaps halfway between the farmhouse at Li and the place I was camping, at Eilean a Mhuineil. There were spurs here too, probably in similar numbers, although I didn’t fish it as long.
Spurdogs move around, so if nothing shows in perhaps and hour then try somewhere else. I tend to try the deeper holes for them but pretty much any sort of ground can produce and there’s rarely much need to go beyond 200-250 feet deep water. It’s probably best to avoid the stronger tide runs as it just makes life more difficult (although spurs don’t seem to care).
You want to fish at anchor with a decent sized mackerel bait and probably a short wire trace (I often use 100-200lb mono rather than wire, but the larger spurs found here may bite through mono). Other possible catches would be rays and skate, so be prepared for a large surprise! You can catch in midwater and on the drift but I find anchoring and fishing hard on the seabed is the most consistently productive method.
Sophisticated tactics are not necessary – the real trick is to find the fish in the first place. My guess is that most places in the outer loch will produce at times – after all 2 out of 3 rather randomly selected marks coughed up fish for me at my first attempt. In your position I’d try around the edges of the loch where the shoreline levels out in the 50-70 metre range – or perhaps the small ridge showing at 35 metres a little way north of Eilean a Mhuineil.
Good luck!