2 October 2016 News/Editorial
My other kind correspondent, based on a few slightly better scores in some lower river beats on Saturday, asks “Has the autumn run started?”
Good question.
Which prompted the thought that if salmon go by temperature, both sea and ambient, to decide when to come into the river, the main Tweed autumn run might still be off Greenland or the Faroes.
As cruise ships power through the Northwest passage, as glaciers disappear and the Arctic ice retreats further and further inland, and as this September is set to become the second or third hottest September since 1910, it must all be very confusing for those creatures who lack a calendar.
Our friends normally come to stay on their way up north, for some stalking, at the end of August. No longer constrained by their children’s school holidays, they now come up at the end of September. On stepping from his car on arrival here on Friday, sun blazing, roses blooming, butterflies everywhere, grass growing, barely a fallen leaf in sight, my half (yes, half) brother-in-law said “Your garden looks just as it normally does at the end of August”.
And it does.
As the coming week settles into more dry weather, cool at night but benignly mild during the days, with a most awkward (for fishing) southeast wind, and as the river drops back inexorably towards summer level again, it is not yet going to be anything like proper autumn fishing. At least the water temperature is now somewhere near where it should be, in the late 40sF.
None of which answers my correspondent’s question.
Has the Tweed autumn run started?
There were some sea-liced fish amongst Saturday’s catch, but the majority were not, far from it.
What is going on? As far as anyone can see autumn itself has barely begun, let alone the Tweed run of proper autumn salmon.
The answer is……. I have no idea what is happening with our fish.
Nor, I suspect, have you.