This turned out to be a lot longer than initially intended but I think it’s worth spending a bit of time debunking the recent utterances of one with an interest in trying to change history.

B&T is not on Facebook and never uses it to post even if someone points out an interesting item or article that might be relevant to the continuing crusade to ensure that the exact reasons for the LLAIAs demise are recorded accurately and that the passage of time doesn’t let the facts be twisted or re-imagined. Possibly a larger B&T readership would be attracted by a Facebook presence but B&T was always about reaching the limited target audience of LLAIA Members and local Leven and Lomond anglers who actually have the ability to influence things through using their votes at AGMS. While the viewers from the USA, Europe, Asia, etc are welcome, they don’t have any clout to influence anything Lomond wise. The trail of incompetence, self serving excesses and indifference of recent committees is already well documented and recorded on here, as are the identities of those who indulged their ability to be brutally ruthless.

I have retained all my correspondence from my first days of the SIWG and then my LLAIA Committee involvement. It’s a unique and incomparable source of the actuality of what occurred, dates, names, places and times. It clearly shows what occurred, without any room for doubt or to question events at length.

Its greatest strength is that even after twenty years, no one can rewrite history to give themselves a different role, or even to completely ignore their part in what’s happened and attempt to present others as being unnecessarily Bitter&Twisted in continuing to chart Lomonds descent into the abyss.

After my last post, which subsequently also appeared on Nicolas Valentins blog, @Nicolas.Valentin.10 it was pointed out to me that a name from the past had surfaced and was giving the impression that my continuing to harp back to things that happened years ago was being overly sensitive and that things would be better left to lie where they are. The author was Kevan Gath, once of VOLDAC, and when around the age of 15 or 16, twenty years ago, seemed to hold potential as becoming a decent Lomond fisher. He accompanied his father, Sid Gath, to many of the SIWGs early hatchery, catch up and stocking events. At the time both father and son were involved with another VOLDAC man, Stewart Inglis, and all three regularly turned up and volunteered for whatever needed done at the time.

However, for some undisclosed reason, things soon changed.

This is a copy of the post, below, by Kevan Gath

Kinda wonder why Peter keeps banging on to be honest, the bitterness obviously runs deep, he was a decent enough angler to be fair but we all know the lomond is finished, Ewan on my opinion was one of the best the loch will ever see.

WELL, the clue is in the name, Kevan, Bitter &Twisted makes no pretences about the reason for its existence. So, I’m surprised you would expect anything different. Bitter I still am, twisted I still am, and with good reason as I’m just about to explain. I’m astounded that you feel you are qualified to be expressing any opinions about the expertise involved in anyone’s Lomond pedigree. Yes, I was probably one of the better Lomond anglers of my generation, and would rank myself as the equal of Euan most days. Some days he’d catch more, and some days I would. But we both are on the exactly the same page when it comes to who ruined our Lomond system I assure you. We both also loved the Lomond system above all else, and intended to finish our days fishing there. Before, obviously your hero’s above improved the absolute sh*te out of it and crashed the pram. We still fish together, Euan and I, by the way, roughly once a week, so I’ll pass on the gist of your favourable appraisal of him. He’ll be chuffed I’m sure.

As to Lomond being finished, yes, that’s the overriding gist of the last ten years of B&T articles. It’s the reason it’s finished, those who are culpable and caused it and those who assisted that energise me now. I’m determined none of them will slip away and reinvent themselves and pretend they had nothing to do with it.

The reasons and results of my first involvement In LLAIA management are clearly laid out in my early post “#1995 – The year of change” as are the subsequent results of that involvement. It continued for 17 years, in company with a few others after that, until I stepped down voluntarily in 2011.

But through those 17 years we collectively faced, virtually every AGM and sometimes also at additional EGMs, a particularly unpleasant form of challenge to our leadership headed by Malky McCormick and a team of other continually changing opportunists including as permanent fixtures two individuals, your father Sid Gath, and Stewart Inglis, both VOLDAC  members at the time and who it seemed regardless of logic automatically commanded the support of many other VOLDAC members, yourself included.

Things with the LLAIA reorganisation, in the early 2000s seemed to be going well, progress on most fronts and new hope and enthusiasm within members up until then only accustomed to continually hearing of failures.

All good so far, you might think. But then, out of the blue, at an AGM, George (Sid) Gath and Stewart Inglis proposed Tommy Walker, at the time serving as LLAIA Vice chairman, as prospective new LLAIA Chairman, thus deposing Mike Brady. It was an ambush, there had been no prior notification or discussion and luckily, again unscripted, I had just finished a personal appreciation to the assembled hall on the night of Mike Brady’s many talents which I think was largely responsible for the surprise proposal being soundly defeated by vote. But the unexpected betrayal was worrying and led to Tom Walkers immediate removal from the committee and the constant close watching of Gath and Inglis thereafter.

It didn’t stop there. Every year following Gath and Inglis organised a challenge to Mike Brady’s leadership, determined to replace him and his remaining loyal committee with another of their own choice. It became more and more unpleasant to be on the committee as the years unfolded and with their every defeat came ever more violent and extreme future attacks.

After the first embarrassment the Gath/inglis duo became a rallying point for anyone with a grudge, a misplaced sense of importance, or a reason to want Michael, or me, gone. Malcolm McCormick was the main beneficiary of this and leant unashamedly on the Gath/inglis VOLDAC connection. This gave him the basic voting base for continuing takeover attempts. I, as LLAIA vice chairman and chief strategist was personally responsible for the tactics and organisation that ensured that Malky and his ever-changing mob of opportunistic diddies had to deal with a succession of bloody and comprehensive defeats. But the result from them, rather than acceptance and resignation, were ever more personal and unpleasant attacks both verbally and on line.

They spawned and supported the old Robbie Red Ball site which did untold damage to the LLAIA over many years until we eventually got lawyers involved and shut him down.

Eventually, however, we’d had enough and decided to voluntarily resign en-mass and to let the members have a taste of McCormick if that was what they wanted. By this time it was obvious to everyone except them that any committee they fielded would be padded out with malcontents and idiots rather than those with vision and authority. 

That’s why I was surprised when Malky McCormick decided to push on rather than admit what he offered was only further strife and confrontation. But Malky always had a good conceit of himself and although intelligent had never shown enough basic common sense to ensure his own safety. 

Cutting to the end game, Malky took over with his new committee and within weeks his assemby of the mentally challenged started to implode before his eyes. He couldn’t persuade anyone to take any position requiring hard work and application. His vice chairman pick, Sid Gath, only accepted after much cajoling and persuasion. Inglis accepted the secretary position and Ritchie Campbell the treasurer. But then, disaster after disaster unfolded, Sid lasted less than three months before a violent middleweight confrontation in VOLDAC premises with the new secretary, Inglis, fell foul of disciplinary proceedings. Sid resigned, ostensibly to continue with his first love, which was stated as the rejuvenation of the Fruin. Aye Right!!!  Sid was never seen or heard of again in any LLAIA capacity to this day. Has Anyone ever seen him on the Fruin, shovel and rake in hand?

Inglis then decided the secretary’s job was more work than he wanted to do and thought a sideways move to vice chair would be easier and more beneficial to him. Malky , sensibly, didn’t want him anywhere near that job and decided to appoint  Eddie Edmondton, scion of Sir Archie of Duntreath Castle, at the time passing himself off as LLFT chairman, to be LLAIA vice chairman too. Inglis took the severe huff and then started the internal disintegration which resulted in only Malky actually managing to serve his initial 3 year term in entirety.

But what a three years of destruction and vindictiveness it was. They demolished the hatchery and scattered the equipment so it couldn’t be rebuilt. Much of it went to Proff. Colin Adam’s at SCENE. They disbanded the bailiffs, they padded the committee with two owners, two LLFT reps, two course fishing reps and lost the autonomy of decision of the LLAIA overnight. This was retribution for finding that when they took over the £250K fund for buying fishing had already been expended by us and instead of a nice cushion they had to find their own money to spend.

The above summary is exactly why I won’t ever let go of this. Any time anyone thinks they can suggest with impunity that Lomonds demise was a sad but unavoidable accident, I’ll be here to put them straight. Malky, Inglis and Gath were the principal reasons that Lomond’s a basket case again despite all Mike Brady’s committee did all those years ago. It was always us who were LLAIA through and through and who walked over burning coals to resurrect it from bankruptcy in 1995.

People like Kevan might like to be allowed to forget their part in it and pretend to be blameless. Bitter&Twisted is here so apparently harmless attempts to minimise anyone’s involvement are refuted with authority and vigour and an unmatched recollection of the facts.

Over to you Kevan. Let’s have your version of the reasons Lomonds finished. But before you do, ask yourself where the Lomond would be today under Mike Brady and myself if your father and Inglis had kept their stupid mouths shut, and you had kept your adolescent voting paw in your pocket.

And to finish an already long post, a humorous and true story. Out fly fishing with John Brice in the early noughties, searching for wind at the end of the day we passed the eastern end of Inchlonaig. No wind was forthcoming but there was a boat pulled in on the first gravel beach with a good fire going. Closer up it was Sid Gath and he could be seen lying flat out by the fire, obviously asleep. We headed in for the news and a heat, and boat pulled ashore beside his, crunched noisily up the gravel. Sid didn’t stir and it quickly became clear he was in, and not beside, the fire. We raced up and dragged him out, realising both of his wellies were melted and smouldering. Sid was half awake by this time and wondering what was happening. He was wet to the naval as we carefully prised the still smouldering footwear off with a wet towel and some nearby firewood.

The garbled story was he’d been trolling past the big rock and saw someone’s lost toby which he’d decided to salvage. In the process he’d fallen over the side up to his chest so pulled the boat ashore on the closest land and lit a fire to dry himself. He’d previously had a really good liquid lunch and was still feeling little pain and had fallen asleep trying to dry his feet, which somehow had finished in the fire.

We poured some coffee into him and got him into his boat and pointed on the right direction, hoping muscle memory and luck would get him back to Balloch before dark.

And I’ve often debated since that perhaps if I’d been 30minutes later would the fire have had enough time to travel up 3 feet of hollow legs and reach his ar*e where he obviously kept his brains.

Of such irreversible mistakes of the Good Samaritan sometimes hang the disastrous accidents of history, and what strife and unpleasantness could a blind eye have saved the LLAIA in the future.

P.S. if you read this Nico I’m happy to assist in any way, including as character witness in court AGAINST the honesty and straight dealing of Gareth Bourhill, or any other LLAIA official who may get involved. I might quite enjoy another visit to Stirling Sheriff Court. The Procurator Fiscal and I are old friends

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In the last few days numerous viewers have accessed this post, and as it’s been a while since I watched it myself, I tried to open the link I’d originally used only to find it didn’t work.

So I found it elsewhere and repost it here again.

Those were the days! Salmon in the spring, on the fly, deliberately targeted in the exact same way that it was done in the haydays when there were no outboards, nylon, carbon or CCR.

Enjoy!!

Prompted by my surprise at the number of recent views of Euan McGrandles “how to fish the golden sprat” post, despite the fact that any reason to use sprats of any colour on loch Lomond passed long ago. So long ago in fact that the need for possessing sprats of any colour is long past.

What bin, therefore, should be used to dump fifteen glass jars of preserved natural sprats, all colours, all shades, all sizes and all totally obsolete and useless for the purpose for which they used to be supreme. There were jars of light and dark golden, purple, red, green and a lovely shade of light pink which used to be known as “Tay Rose”. Which purpose was, in case there’s any doubt, the catching by trolling of early spring salmon on Loch Lomond, Loch Tay, and Loch Ness, and which once, not so long ago, were the salmon killing bait of choice used by virtually every angler who was serious about his Lomond fishing. That was, admittedly, before the invention of the lazy man’s sprat, the artificial lures like the early Abu Killers and Rapalas which required much less preparation and skill to use and which latterly gained a reputation due to ease of use against the difficulty involved in obtaining, preserving, properly dying and correctly mounting the natural sprat.

My first problem was which bin to put them in. Should they go in general waste, designed to take everything society no longer wanted?  Or the food waste bin (they were after all, still just fish). Or maybe into the glass and plastic bin, them all being in repurposed glass jars of different sizes. Or, as the jars were still full of a weak solution of formaldahyde preservative perhaps they should be classed as chemical waste and be personally taken to the local recycling dump. For many years all the jars had been sitting neatly stacked on a shelf in my outhouse, probably over ten years at least, untouched, unused and a constant and permanent reminder of the perilous state of Lomonds salmon fishing. I’d briefly contemplated offering them to anyone who still pretended to be fishing the loch, but being that it’s been years since any salmon was caught in the spring, and by that I mean in March, April and May, which were the main months where sprats were deadly effective, there didn’t seem much point in passing them on.

So, into the bin they went, now just a minor footnote from history, obsolete and essentially useless in little more than a decade. And now the method and the knowledge involved in fishing the sprat pass into history, recalled now only in print, and recalled by ever fewer anglers who can still remember how to lovingly mount the golden sprat on an early morning in April at Balmaha and to then go out with high expectations that a sea-liced spring salmon, in the teens of pounds would be the result.

Just how little time ago that scenario was a possibility, if not at times a near certainty, can be shown by the following.

In season 2015, coincidentally, and no accident, the last season the LLAIA expected returns from it’s own stocking and hatchery program, one Lomond and Balmaha regular had his first trip out from Balmaha in the first few days of the month of April. This was timed deliberately to coincide with the expected start of the traditional main spring run which daily till the end of May saw increasing numbers of large, fresh and usually sea-liced salmon running the River Leven off every tide. His usual set up was trolling with three rods out, invariably a carefully mounted golden sprat on both inside and outside rods and a 4 or 5″ Rapala on the short lined poker over the stern.

He hooked a sea-liced salmon that day, first time out, which was also the coveted first salmon of the season off the Loch, taken on the sprat. A good start, but not unexpected or in any way unusual in these days where salmon catches were increasing annually and chances of a fish, if you knew what you were doing, were high. His next trip, roughly a week later, and again a sea-liced salmon fresh out of the salt was hooked and landed, again on the golden sprat. Other boats were also getting amongst the fish by now and expectations for the season around Balmaha were bouyant. Looking at my diary I landed my first salmon that year, a sea-liced 11lbr caught on the gold sprat off Claddich Point only three days after Euan got his. And although I couldn’t manage his “fish a trip minimum” over the spring I ended up with five, the best a 15lbr, and lost one, the biggest, due to a “sharpes” ball bearing swivel failure.

To get quickly to the point, in this the last season before the present committee dismantled the hatchery and relegated the LLAIA to the ranks of those relying solely on CCR natural stocking, Euan McGrandle had at least one salmon in the boat (on occasions he had two) on every day he fished for his first 11 spring salmon fishing trips, and only on his 12^th trip did he actually come in without a salmon on the boards, but he’d lost one, the first fish he’d lost that season.

That memorable season was only, believe it or not, little more than ten years ago. And in that time under CCR natural stocking Lomond has collapsed and this year it’ll be lucky if Euans individual catch for the early season in 2015 doesn’t exceed the total number of salmon off the loch for a whole season. And it’s been ten years since there was a first salmon caught before June.

That’s how quickly Lomond salmon numbers have disappeared under CCR natural stocking. That’s how quickly the historic and deadly art of fishing the preserved, dyed, natural sprat on a homemade spinning mount has become something that is now so pointless that the biggest decision Lomond anglers have these days is which bin it goes into for safe disposal. And people need to be constantly reminded of what’s been lost, no, destroyed, or they’ll gladly forget their part in it and slip into glorious anonymity.

Truly, in the face of what were perfectly surmountable difficulties under any kind of sensible management direction, the LLAIA committee failed miserably to protect their members from the almost total destruction of their sport and the near extinction of Lochs Lomonds once envied salmon runs.

In all things controversial there are those who are culpable and there are those who are blameless. In this case the number of the culpable substantially outnumber the blameless. Everyone is culpable who supported CCR, who enforced it’s policies of non intervention, who advocated it’s use as a credible alternative to running a hatchery and stocking like the LLAIA had done since Henry Lamonds time, who believed the dross and drivel spouted by LLFT fishery scientists in the certain knowledge that they’ve never, ever, in forty years managed to increase salmon numbers by anything they advocated, who went on social media castigating anyone who resisted the silver bullet CCR was promoted as and then disappeared when they saw no improvement in twenty years.

The blameless are a much smaller group, many if not most of whom have been questioning from even before CCR was imposed, contradicting, asking for proof, pointing out that its never worked anywhere it’s been previously tried and that there were many more important things to address that would achieve massively better results. Instead of listening and debating, the culpable decided it was better to close down any CCR resistance by whatever means, including closing down forums, introducing lifetime bans, threatening and bullying and ridiculing.

And here we are now, no salmon, bins full of useless sprats, garages full of pointless boats, attics full of worthless salmon rods, reels and tackle, and the same individuals above culpable for the catastrophe are deathly silent. No more nightly Salmon Fishing Forum (SFF) visits to chant in unison “deid salmon canny spawn” . No more the strident nightly certainty that CCR would be the virtually painless and “hands off” cure that would allow those responsible to avoid anything that needed from them committment or innovation or capacity for original thought.

Right now, mid August, 2026, and there’s not even a starter thread on the SFF for Loch Lomond 2026. It’s dead out there, and Loch Lomond, once the cause of frequent temporary lockings of the topic and almost weekly bannings of individuals such was the ferocity and passion in debate shown by both factions might as well not exist such is the level of interest. None of the culpable recognise themselves now either, or want to be recognised by others and reminded and they certainly don’t participate in the SFF any more. 

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The attached amazing old photo was recently sent to me by Euan McGrandle who came across it by accident while looking for something else. It shows himself and his late father, James Mcgrandle, who fished Lomond through the 1930s to his sudden death around 1985. He fished latterly from Balmaha using his own 12ft Moorhen fibreglass boat, a boat many others then fishing thought more than a little on the small side for some of Lomond’s wilder weather. From memory it was a shade of light yellow externally and kinda’ mahogany colour inside. But it was sometimes hard to see the inside colour clearly because of the scattered array of silver scales left by the countless fish that lay within.

James was one of the famous McGrandle family of  4 brothers who all were notable Lomond fishers at the time I arrived as a novice in 1981. The “family boat” was a 16ft clinker built beauty by Kiers Boatyard at Balloch, which they named Kia-Ora, and it served all its life on Lomond until it went recently, having been retired, to be completely rebuilt as part of the apprenticeship boat builder scheme. All the McGrandles were approachable and keen to impart whatever knowledge they had about fishing on Lomond. They would readily show off their perfected techniques, frequently present their preferred tackle and flies as presents to the less fortunate, and generally did whatever they could to ensnare the unwary novice into the spell of Lomond and the history and heritage of the whole undertaking.

He was one of the first real Lomond hard cases (or so I thought) that I plucked up the courage to approach in my novice years. I saw his wee moorhen tucked into the lee of the Cemetery Bay on the Claddich shore one cold and wild spring day, and the sight of the fire already burning was irresistible (It was long before lighting a shoreside fire was a hanging offense).  I pulled in beside his boat and was welcomed by a mug of steaming tea as soon as ashore. From my reticent overture came an outpouring of sheer unbridled enthusiasm, from what was already a man past retiral age but who spoke and acted like one thirty years younger. Fire weren’t fires, they were “bawroasters”, salmon weren’t salmon they were “fush”, and numerous other local bastardisations only a Lomond fisher would recognise. In what I intended to be a short stopover for a heat and a pee, we ended up lying on the sandy shore for above two hours while he filled my head with all manner of stories of his and his brother’s countless triumphs. We eventually left together for Balmaha, after following his advice that the weather was making effective trolling impossible and we’d be better and safer back home and trying another day. 

Ever after, he never failed in a cheery greeting or wave if afloat and introduced me afterwards to all his brothers, many of the established locals, and, just as necessary, told me the ones to avoid. You never knew which McGrandles were going to turn up. They many times went out three together in the Kia ora, sometimes with their young family in tow learning the lore of Lomond and serving their time. They all knew their stuff, and all were mad keen and top-notch fish catchers every season. They all could troll and fly fish with the best, and had the opportunity of a Lomond system at the peak of its productivity where runs of salmon, and particularly sea trout, were the stuff of legend.

The photo shows just what could be done in a short Lomond day when you knew what you were doing and made the best of your chances. Euan is a couple of years younger than me and started his solo Lomond career roughly at the same time, although he had the advantage of twenty years of apprenticeship under the McGrandle family tutilage. Around this time we were both getting ourselves kitted out in the boat and gear stakes and he was getting a mirror image of Kia-Ora built by Angus McFadyen at Milton of Buchanan boatyard. We passed each other frequently in these early days but seldom were in company mostly because I was too focused on spending every minute afloat rather than wasting time blethering or in extended drum-ups (lunch breaks) ashore. We both had our successes and were seperately building our own reputations, but with a keen eye to the others successes. 

At this time, the 1980s, it’s impossible now to describe to those used to todays all but fishless situation, the sheer number of salmon and sea trout Lomond could produce. Days of multiple salmon into the teens and twenties of pounds were commonplace then to those with the skill, dedication, knowledge and opportunity. The real top performers were well known, and some were really exceptional fishers. A read through the printed reports for these years, which were produced monthly  in Trout and Salmon magazine, will fill you with wonder and disbelief. In these days I awaited the T&S monthly issue with bated breath to see what had been getting caught, and I religiously cut out the Lomond&Leven report and filed it away for future reference. I still have them all, some forty-five years later, as a historic reference to what Lomond was capable of in these years. 

And I also still have the old Lomond scrap book detailing catches from the 1930s till the late 19660s. So noone can question the facts and pretend it’s only wishful thinking and thib po ngs then weren’t really any better.

Some of the best anglers of these years almost lived on the loch during peak run times and they “murdered it” week in, week out. Fish arrived in small numbers in March, the first of the true early spring run, rising every week in numbers until by end of May the peak spring run arrived and the real big boys showed up. The summer salmon of June and early July were more numerous but usually slightly smaller, and the grilse runs through July and August were frightening. I’ve a series of reports from different sources from the mid-eighties which note, night after night, running shoals of grilse and sea trout “a quarter of a mile long” pushing into the loch on the nose of the high tide. Such was their attraction to the poaching element that these shoals were being “walked up” the tidal River Leven from Dumbarton to the “barrage gates” by the bailiffs (at that time an eight-man team) using torches to deter any attempts by the well-known teams of netters, jiggers, foul hookers, or other opportunists, etc. who congregated anywhere they thought they might “nip” a few fish before making a run for it. Many members complained about this torch lit walking up of shoals as it spoiled their own legitimate attempts at night time fly fishing and it was soul destroying for night time river fishers watching thousands of fish cruising past unmolested and into the relative safety of the loch above.

So, with this as a background, the catch shown in the photograph becomes less of a novelty, at least in those days. But it still serves to illustrate the momentous loss Lomond is to the angling community, locally and further afield. The fish shown are all in prime condition, fresh in and near or over double figures in weight. The sea trout in particular are typical of the fish regularly caught in the 1980s. Run-of- the-mill sea trout were the three to five pounders and anything smaller was classed as a “neb” and not really counted. They were different days then. Reputations rested on fish caught AND clearly displayed as proof. They were regarded as a food source and proudly distributed to family and friends, or local hospitals. They were almost never returned unless gravid and near to spawning. It was a badge of honour to be able to hold up a Lomond salmon, a clear demonstration of skill and perseverance and local knowhow. And for decades before and after the two great wars the number of fish taken by anglers, however prodigious, never made one bit of difference to the following years numbers. The serious industrial pollution in the River Leven killed many more fish every year than fair angling ever did and still they poured in all through the season. And not only on Lomond, but on Tay, Spey, Tweed, Earn, Teith, etc., the runs were stupendous, biblical, never ending. No matter the catches or the number of fish killed and counted in the beat catch returns, there were always more the following year, and the year after that.  Until gradually, sometimes after the UDN outbreak, there weren’t!!

So, although I’m sure there are those shaking their heads and decrying the fact that there’s dead fish being shown here in a photograph, I for one couldn’t give a toss what others think. Salmon anglers are not the cause of the salmon decline we see today. And it therefore stands to reason that they are never going to be the species saviours by returning all their fish as the sole means of recovery. This Compulsory Catch and Release (CCR) nonsense, cos’ that’s what it is, started to rear it’s head in the early 2000s, and has quickly increased its grip every year since, to absolutely no avail. Now, every salmon is returned by law, and what difference has it made, anywhere. Not a bit is the answer, and I challenge any angler, scientist, politician or other naysayer to provide evidence of anywhere CCR has worked, even minimally. So not only have anglers lost their rights to fish for salmon properly, and by that, I mean to catch, kill and eat, they have now lost the Atlantic salmon as a species as it’s rapidly becoming almost extinct in every river I know.

The individuals personal view of the contents of the old photograph will no doubt vary depending on the age, experience and outlook of the viewer. Those of the old school, of the age of plenty and seemingly perpetual runs, of the ability to fish unhindered by any  imposed restrictions on method, number of fish taken or of embarrassment caused by being an angler of reputation and ability will see only a great day enjoyed by exceptional anglers. Anyone who has only known the lean years of CCR and the compulsory prohibition on any kind of hatchery based enhancement may indeed conform to the view that the killing of any game fish is tantamount to self-harm and should be forcefully and resoundingly condemned. 

If by chance or selection you’re one of the latter school then in my opinion you are more of the problem than the cure. At what point do you, or any other adherent of any cause wake up and realise that if something’s been religiously undertaken for twenty years with no, absolutely no, benefit, it’s never going to work. Castigating those who had the ability, skill, luck and opportunity to record catches like the one shown doesn’t change anything. Adopting a superior attitude about C&R as if it was actually working is a common and ever more sanctimonious attitude. The LLAIA Committee suffer from this common affliction that basically lets them pretend their hands are tied preventing any other policy. That’s not the case, however, and it’s more a question of a refusal to admit they’ve wasted two decades backing the wrong horse, while I’ve spent two decades forcefully and regularly reminding them of exactly that.

It’s too late now for the Lomond system. It’s membership squandered the only chance they had by allowing a succession of complete idiots into a position of decision making they were obviously unsuited for. The disaster that’s unfolded was principally caused by Malcolm McCormick, Eddie Edmonston, Jim Raeburn, and Gareth Bourhill, all of  whom were in the position to have made a difference had they listened to seasoned advice and not to the crazy ideas that lived in their own heads, and also by every one of those who served on their respective committees and who allowed themselves to be intimidated into acquiescence and did nothing to stop their incompetence and inaction.

After I’d drafted the above I’d asked Euan to pass his eye over it and to check dates, etc. He kindly provided the paragraphs below, which he agreed I could reproduce here, which adds to the event and the historic accuracy.

**********

Had a couple of bits of information for the article which I added, but since you were interested in the photo I looked back my records and got the following.

The catch was made on Tuesday 16th August 1983. Wind from South West and day overcast but dry.

2 salmon were taken on tobies, one at Black Rocks and the second at the farm house on the ‘Fad.

I played both fish on the troll. But the rest were taken on the fly, mostly round Darroch and the top of the ‘Fad, one off Ireland and one off the Geggles. My contribution to the bag was hee haw. My dad was on fire that day but at least I got to practice using the landing net.

The bag was 5 salmon and 4 sea trout. The sea trout were 5, 8, 8 and 11lbs. The large sea trout is being held by my dad. The salmon weighed 9, 10, 11, 14 and 15lbs. The 2 larger salmon are held by me. The biggest one was on the troll, but can’t remember which of the other salmon was on the troll. I’ve no record of the flies we caught the fish on, but my dad loved Mallard and Yellow so suspect that would have been on the cast, Turkey and Silver probably on the tail and one of many possibilities on the middle. My dad had previously been out on the Monday,  landed a salmon and rose several others, so he knew there was a good head of fish in the area which is no doubt why he wanted to fly fish rather than troll. 

Very few people in Balmaha knew about the catch as my dad didn’t want to advertise the numbers of salmon round the islands but if someone had asked, he would have told them. 

E