I trudged through the hallway in my sodden socks, leaving a trail of brackish water as I went. The morning on the foreshore had been disappointingly goose-less. Nevertheless, today was a fishing day, and my luck could not get worse. Skeins had flown to the right and the left during dawn’s sporting adventure.
To many salmon fishers, Grimersta is known as the hallowed location of the most salmon caught in a single day by a single Rod. The entry reads: “28 August 1888, A P Naylor, Loch One, 54 salmon (331lbs), seven sea-trout.” To those of literary inclinations, Gimersta was the haunt of Ted Hughes. To me, Grimersta was where my grandfather taught me not only to fish but to enjoy the art of sitting in a boat with nothing but the company of a friend, a gillie and occasionally an obliging salmon.
And so at breakfast I sat, listening to the humdrum of the party excited for the day ahead, but deep
