Dusk. Along the bank there’s a trail of worn grass beaded by patches of bare earth, where the fishermen stand and wait. “The tug is the drug,” says Jim Gregg, of the Six Mile Water Trust. This charity was formed in 2008 to protect the river after a catastrophic fish kill, when tens of thousands died. The anglers speak in wondering tones about the river’s recovery from that still unsourced pollution. “We call it the Phoenix river,” says Michael.
There have been other fish kills since. And now there’s more bad news downstream, where the Six Mile Water disgorges into Lough Neagh. For months, that freshwater “inland sea” has been laced with toxic algal blooms. Here, however, as darkness closes in, it is possible to believe that all is well. The river flows like black silk. A delicate V-shaped wash is agreed to be an otter on the move. Overhead, the flitter of a Daubenton’s bat snatches my gaze.
The anglers are out at this hour in the hope of catching dollaghan. This variety of brown trout, Salmo trutta, is endemic to Lough Neagh and its tributaries. Specimens can grow as large as 9kg. At this time of year, the adults are leaving the lough and returning to their native rivers to spawn. Preferring the cover of darkness, they lurk in gloomy pools during daylight. “They’re dour,” says Andy. The others laugh softly. The men show me their lures. Tiny feathery works of art weighted to sink below the surface, deep into the water column.
As stars emerge, the Plough stations itself above the nearby stone bridge. Reels crackle. Lines swizz. Ethan’s muted excitement announces a tug. His head torch glares. Braced splashing turns into a muscular blade of freckled gunmetal and gold as the net scoops. The dollaghan is laid out on the grass for a quick check and then released back into the water. Later, on our return across the bridge, we lean over the wall to look at the river. It rushes silver under our spilling torchlight. Suddenly there’s a dart between the lime-green tassels of water crowfoot. It’s a dollaghan – this big! – flickering bluish as it crosses an open channel to speed upstream.
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