Fishing Report by Les Lockey.

3^rd May –15^th May 2026.

For the first time in over 40 years, I was able to spend a two week stay at Coldingham Loch and was joined for the first week by my fishing pal, Mike Warburton. The Coldingham weather gods, however, were certainly not smiling on us. Early morning frosts on most mornings were accompanied by bitterly cold, very strong and gusty Northerly winds which kept daytime temperatures stubbornly in single digits for both weeks. “Ne’er cast a clout till May is oot” was never more apt and this was despite almost cloudless skies and bright sunshine on many days and on those other days, sudden squally showers plus the odd clap of thunder did little to enhance the situation. Needless to say, these conditions had a significant impact on the fishing. Indeed, it was a moral victory if you could actually find somewhere safe to anchor. A quick glance through the returns book showed very meagre returns and quotes such as “a lovely day for December” and “I’ve never been so cold” told you all you needed to know.

During our first week, for the most part, Mike and I tended to fish what we felt might be the warmest part of the day, namely, between 11 and 4 and did our best to find some semblance of shelter at the top of the North arm tight in against the reeds. Fly hatches were few and far between, but when they did occur, they seemed to be very localised. Olives, small tan sedges and greyish olive buzzers were the main flies on the water during these short and sporadic rises but the fish proved to be very fussy indeed. I tended to stick with my old dependables, a flat daddy on the point and a yellow owl shuttlecock on the dropper, but on most days, my returns were well below par. Only when I changed to a small green detached bodied sedge did my fortunes modestly improve. Mike, on the other hand, went through his fly boxes determined to seek out the illusive killing pattern and to be fair, he was doing a lot better than me until a freak accident saw his confidence drain away. A good fish had taken Mike’s olive CDC shuttlecock and as the fish powered away from the boat Mike tried to put the fish under pressure. Suddenly there was a loud crack as the tippet snapped at the silver tippet ring instantly followed by a yelp of pain as the line recoiled violently somehow allowing the tippet ring to strike Mike on his bottom eyelid despite wearing a pair of wide framed sunglasses. By the time he turned round, blood was streaming down his cheek and almost immediately his eye was turning into a real “shiner”. I hate to think what the result might have been if it had been a hook rather than a tiny tippet ring, or if Mike had not been wearing his sunglasses. A salutary lesson if ever we needed it, to remember to wear eye protection whenever we are fishing.

Conditions improved slightly for my second week with marginally warmer temperatures, but still with strong and cold, Northerly, or North Easterly winds once again limiting suitable anchoring spots, but armed with my first week’s experience, I could now pinpoint areas where hatches of known insects were likely to occur and could plan accordingly. A typical day would see me start about 11am and anchored in one of two areas at the North end of the loch using the flat daddy/yellow owl combination until the olives started to appear. A quick change to a single CDC and Foam Dun (see fly of the month for June 25) produced immediate results although actually landing the fish was never guaranteed, as many fish managed to shed the hook long before getting anywhere near the net. So regular did this occur, I began to think the black coating on the hook was more Teflon than black nickel.

Tuesday proved to be a very interesting day, albeit that my good friend and boat partner for the day John Dow and I spent the morning in the lodge with several other angler waiting for the wind to ease enough to at least get the boats away from the jetty. A coupe of hardy bank anglers, (Gordon Boulding and his pal Darren) had braved the morning elements and returned early for lunch with impressive returns of 7 and 11 fish respectively using floating and intermediate lines and small yellow based lures. After lunch and armed with this information, John and I managed to anchor our boat a cast length out from the shore on the corner of Swing Gate and Boathouse Bay and with a small white cheeked cormorant on the point and a yellow peacock eye herl Diawl Bach on the dropper, (see fly of the month for May 23), I made my first cast and as I waited to let the flies sink, my line suddenly tightened as a powerful fish took my fly on the drop. This proved to be the precursor for an hour and a half of continued action with some kind of reaction from the fish on just about every cast.  I even managed to land a double hook up and the very next cast, both John and me were into fish at the same time, which with only one net in the boat, proved an interesting dilemma. Thankfully both fish tired about the same time allowing John to net his fish first and then skilfully slip the net under my fish to once again produce two fish at a time in the net in as many casts. Interestingly, boats anchored nearby on either side of us failed to have any success at all, proving yet again, just how localised the fish seemed to be. Under normal conditions this would not be a major problem, as you could keep moving until you find the fish, but when strong winds severely limit your anchoring options, finding the fish becomes a bit more of a lottery.

Thank you to Les for his report and the photos below that he took during his stay here.