GO WILD IRELAND: In the first of a three part series on catching your dinner in Ireland, ELIZABETH BIRDTHISTLElands the king of fish on her first day fly-fishing at Delphi Lodge
THERE IS something incredibly rewarding about catching your own dinner. Maybe it fulfils something innate that brings us back to the hunter-gatherer, perhaps it’s the security of knowing the provenance of what’s on your plate, or maybe it’s the thrill of the catch – a battle of wits and strength in a climate that changes by the hour.
My first question to David McEvoy, a fly-fishing instructor at Delphi Lodge in Connemara tasked with teaching me (a woman devoid of patience) how to fly-fish in one day, was: “What are my chances of getting a salmon today?”
With a massive grin McEvoy explained that salmon do not feed in freshwater. Well, you could have knocked me into the river: what were we doing here in the rain and why do so many people fish for salmon in rivers if chances of catching one are so slim?
Having fished for mackerel since childhood, dinner was almost guaranteed. Mackerel were hungry. They were after their dinner, but so were we and we rarely lost.
Salmon fishing is different: it’s an art which takes years of learning. The time of year, the wind direction and the height of the water are all factors in choosing the type of fly – of which there are multitudes – to interest the salmon enough so he or she will bite.
Deflated after an unsuccessful morning, we broke for lunch. Sitting with other fishermen and women from all over the globe – some single, some partners, some fathers and sons – they all had one thing in common: a love of fly-fishing and the greatest respect for the king of fish.
It was not about the catch – that was a bonus, like an unexpected meteor on a starry night. It was about the serenity, the scenery and the escapism you’re sucked into while casting along the rivers and lakes in the Delphi valley. Prince Charles came here in 1995 to cast and paint, and here was an impatient novice sitting at the same table tucking into a bowl of carrot soup.
AFTER LUNCH Michael Wade, the lodge’s manager, offered to take me out to test the skills learnt that morning. The salmon were everywhere: some leaping and some lying low on the river bed waiting for another month or so to do what they had travelled thousands of miles to do – procreate. But none were biting.
I ask Wade if we could use the net to simply scoop one up and he soberly replies: “No, that’s not fishing.” How about getting into the water and staying still for a while to try again? No again, this part of river is the most important freshwater pearl mussel sanctuary in Europe. Mussels with pearls as well as salmon? The river was a veritable candy store and everything depended on a fly called “collie dog” to catch dinner, but it wasn’t working. All seemed hopeless.
We moved along the river, taking turns to cast in pools laden with salmon indifferent to us and any new fly that Wade attached.
Then the moment came: Wade had a bite and whipped the rod into my hands. Screaming with excitement, yanking, pulling and reeling, a struggle began with the silver mirrored fish. Alas, the fish escaped but I was hooked.
After many more attempts a small sea trout took the bait and this was worth the day’s effort, but with the catch-and-release system it was returned after a quick photograph.
We walked and kept casting for hours – learning new techniques all the time while Wade learnt that impatient people should probably not fly-fish. Then, just as we were giving up for the day, we got another bite. The excitement rose: could this be dinner?
Handing me the rod, Wade spoke calmly with instructions to hold tight while this beautiful creature performed acrobatic manoeuvres to escape his destiny. With wellies dug firmly into the bog, the battle began – this fish was going nowhere. After half an hour we had him in Wade’s net.
Back at the lodge we tagged, weighed and sexed the fish while studiously avoiding two French fishermen who told us at lunchtime they had fished for four days in vain. In an unwritten rule, you only take the first wild fish caught while the rest rejoin their peers.
I used to smirk with cynicism at those who revelled in stories of the-one-that-got-away but I now understand the great guidance, patience and total beginner’s luck that helped land this 4lb dinner.
Salmon go cook
WHILE poaching, grilling and frying cutlets and darnes are options for cooking salmon, sometimes the fish deserves to be served in its entirety if for nothing other than the grace it exudes.
A whole salmon stuffed with herbs and butter, then wrapped in tinfoil and cooked on the barbecue is marvellous.
The cookbook Bear soup and salmon mousse: a cookbook of the Alaska Department of Fish Gameoffers a novel option that for many was deemed an urban myth – dishwasher salmon. Take a whole salmon, stuff with herbs and wrap it well in foil. Place on the top drawer of your dishwasher and turn on the pot wash cycle. The fish is steamed, then baked and, by all accounts, perfectly cooked.
Fly-fishing from Galway to Waterford
Delphi Lodge
A stunning 12-bedroom Georgian sporting lodge with a 170-year angling history.
Nestled under mountains in Connemara, it offers a wet and wild fishing season from February 1st to September 30th.
Nearby rivers are crystal clear due to the double filtration of the two lakes feeding into the system. Fishing is limited to 12 anglers per day on a full board basis and experienced ghillies are available.
Fishermen and women dine together each evening at one large table recalling tales of the day. The average annual catch of 500 salmon is high due to the fact that the lodge operates a hatchery.
Some 50,000 smolts, created from ranched wild salmon, are released each year for an arduous journey to Greenland and the Faroe Islands before returning to spawn in Delphi. A three-day full board residential fly-fishing course for beginners is €750 with some of Ireland’s most notable fly-fishermen. Advanced and day courses are also available. The lodge is legendary for its wine cellar and high quality locally sourced food. delphilodge.ie, 095-42222.
Other options
Blackwater Fishing Lodge,Upper Ballyduff, Co Waterford (Ireland-salmon-fishing.net). Instruction: €50 per hour.
Clonanav Fly Fishing Centre, Nire Valley, Ballymacarbry, Clonmel, Co Waterford (clonanav.com). One-day package, including accommodation, costs from €275.
Lough Inagh Lodge,Recess, Co Galway, loughinaghlodgehotel.ie.
Budget
Oughterard Holiday Hostel Angling Centre, Oughterard, Co Galway (oughterardhostel.com). Accommodation cost from €17 to €23 per person sharing. Tuition per hour: €40 (adults), €20 (children).
Website
The Association of Professional Game Angling Instructors in Ireland, apgai-ireland.ie.
Salmon of knowledge
KNOWN AS the king of fish, this is an appropriate title. These fish migrate over 5,000km from the rivers and streams of Ireland to feeding grounds in the north Atlantic and back again to spawn.
Their capacity to return to the same stream where they hatched has captivated and mystified biologists for years. They exhibit a remarkable homing instinct, using the Earth’s magnetic field as an in-built GPS in conjunction with the chemical smell of the rivers and pheromones of other fish.
Before departing on their journey they undergo many physiological adaptations, such as rising to the surface to take a gulp of fresh air to give them buoyancy and changing colour to a silver hue. They return one to three years later – feeding only at sea – to the spawning grounds where they were hatched.
Exhausted and hungry, without food since their arrival in freshwater and low on energy from their bid to reproduce successfully, they are susceptible to disease and predators.
Mortality after spawning is significant, especially for males, but some do survive and start their epic journey again.
