THE ULTIMATE ANGLING BUCKET LIST

It was around this time that I was introduced to wild fish
expert Dr. Malcolm Greenhalge, who at the time was still a
college lecturer, but about to retire as a fortieth birthday
present to himself to see if he could make a living out of
angling journalism.
Part of that plan included writing books, two of which were
already commissioned and required illustration with both
line drawings and photographs, which is where I came in. I
was given the job. And as he lived just a few miles down
the road from me, we also started doing a bit fishing
together, both for pleasure and for the camera.
Malcolm had somehow got himself involved with a new
single species specialist group based up in the Scottish
Highlands called Ferox 85.
Essentially, they were a bunch of fishery scientists working
at Fascally, studying such diverse subjects as whitefish and
char populations in Scottish waters, lead if that's the right
word, by Ron Greer and Alistair Thorne.
Malcolm had managed to blag a selection of suitable fishing
gear including echo sounders for them to use in some of the
most inhospitable situations you could ever wish (or not
wish) to fish in.
Malcolm Greenhalge, Ferox Trout
Huge, deep, cold, thermally stratified peat stained lochs, which when the wind blew, which it usually
did, could throw up breaking rollers equal to anything I would ever have to endure while small boat
fishing at sea.
Gradually over time, patterns had started to emerge. Things like seasonality, water depth, lure or bait
selection and the like. Yet still there were many freezing cold blank days spent getting battered by the
elements, interrupted infrequently by an occasion take or boated fish.
Collectively, they once racked up thirteen successive blanks. And now Malcolm was trying to sell this
to me as he'd been invited up to fish with them and thought I might want to accompany him.
So, on the allotted freezing cold wild day in April, we made the long trek up there to stay at Ron's house,
which as if to condition us for what was to come was also freezing cold, devoid of a wife to run the
place, and where we were served a huge equally freezing cold pie to eat as he'd forgotten to turn the
oven on prior to us going to the pub to get warm, as he normally didn't bother to cook.
Rannoch was our designated loch, fishing from two orkney longliners – Malcolm, Ron and myself in
one, with Alistair, along with a couple of the other group members in the second, fishing a patch of
water that looked like well stewed tea with huge rollers on the exposed side, and just about manageable
conditions on the other.
Thankfully, Ron decided we would work the sheltered margin, explaining the dead-bait trolling set up
that was to be my rod. A powan of around a pound was rigged up using a stiff wire inserted internally
from mouth to tail and bent to give it a banana shape. From the split ring holding the wire there were
two runs of trebles to trace wire in case a pike hold, one set inserted along each flank.
In the water, at minimal trolling speed on the outboard, this bait rotated in a huge vibrating circle, which
in the low visibility conditions would be crucial. Various sizes of flat D-shaped leads were also available
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