Flyfishing in Connemara always brings a smile and excitement to my life, and after a warm summer in Clare, I was keeping all fingers and toes crossed for September’s Connemara trip. Although all my outings are always fun and clients go home happy, you always want the red letter day, that little piece of magic to send the client home with a memory they will always remember fondly. So the last trip of the season came and my client and I drove in convoy up the motorway through the Galway traffic and out onto the Clifden road. Galway to Clifden is a really epic drive, winding its way through the stunning Twelve Pins mountains, which hide the many hundreds of lakes comprising the fisheries of the west of Ireland. I haven’t been to Montana or Idaho (yet!) but from what I see on YouTube they look similar, maybe a bit more green here!
We arrive and check into The Station House Hotel in Clifden. It’s had a renovation in 2025 and is very classy and modern looking with soft, ambient lighting and decorated with a hint of Art Deco. I make sure the client is happy and I walk up into town and go about my jobs, buying snacks for the day’s fishing, checking permits, and I say hi to the guys at Stanley’s shop. I get away to bed early with everything prepared for the morning, dreaming of seatrout.
The next morning arrives and the weather is pretty awful. I get down for a coffee early to figure out a gameplan for the day and after a little bit I’m joined by my client. We chat about the potential of the day and what’s likely for the fishing. The wind is westerly which is good but it’s cold and wet. The forecast is for sunny spells in between the squall of wind and rain, which is promising. I guess every guide has his or her own interpretation of fishing and weather patterns, and you just never know with fishing and what the day will bring. Perhaps that’s the best thing about it. For me, there are windows for good fishing- when the trout are likely to be feeding or in a certain spot, when the wind drops a little and the sun comes out or when they swim up through the lake aiming for the river after a heavy rain. That’s what it’s all about on the lakes of Connemara-finding those windows. The fortunate intersection of those variables, out of the strong wind, in the calm spot, in the lee of an island, or arriving at the river mouth at the right time for the midge hatch . If you like the idea of an adventure and flyfishing that is both testing and exhilarating then Connemara is definitely a fine choice.
We arrive at Lough Inagh and have a coffee in the old bar with the ghilles who tell stories and chat about the weeks past fishing on the lake. Lough Inagh Lodge was built in the 1880s and has welcomed generations of anglers, wanderers, and dreamers to its fireside warmth. Its history whispers through every timbered room, reminding visitors that fishing here is more than sport—it’s tradition. July was good the ghilles say and I add that I had the first 3 seatrout of the season earlier in May. I was lucky they say, we nod and agree to head out. It’s 12C and windy as forecasted as we embark and no more than 1 minute in and heading north on the lake we see a ball of blue black cloud rolling off the mountain. “Button up lads” says the ghille and we are blasted sideways by the rain for a solid 10 minutes. We reach the north end of the lake and all becomes calm. We try a few small midge emerger patterns and have a couple of bites in the briefest of midge hatches. Fifteen minutes in and we have 2 lost, it’s a good start to get the blood pumping!
One of our favorite spots on Inagh is behind an ancient wooded island. These lake islands have been untouched for hundreds and maybe thousands of years and so retain the natural vegetation without man’s interference. They are so lush & green, and wildly beautiful. We make for our little spot behind the island in question, it is sheltered from the wind and has calm water as we arrive. The ghille says “try the Silver Daddy”, I tie him on for the client and we fish the sandbar for a little while. Not having much luck this time, I notice the client has been casting pretty much in the same spot and at the same distance. I gently advise to move his cast to the right 10 feet, after two retrieves there is a sharp tug and a solid bend in the rod. We give a shout of excitement, it’s a strong fish and the ghille says for sure it’s a seatrout. As we all know, hooking a fish and landing a fish are two different things entirely. I’m extra anxious as my client has come all the ways from Pennsylvania and has not had a seatrout yet in his 70 something years. We balance the battle by allowing the fish to take a bit of line and tire himself, a tactic that sometimes doesn’t work but he surfaces again and I have the net ready. He is a male fish of the shiniest silver which blends into brown patches along his flank- a sign he has been in the lake for a few weeks if not months. A very beautiful fish and the clients first seatrout in a lifetime. The fish is around the 2lb mark, and my client smiles and is quietly elated! We finally connect with one of those golden moments, the magic that is bound in memory and a story to take home to the U.S of A. We take a quick snap of the fish before gently allowing him to swim away safe and sound. A rainbow frames the foreground. We smile, in equal parts elation and disbelief. A magic morning indeed that will be talked about long after the season closes and a fine fish to sign in the old dusty book back at the lodge.
That my friends is only one half of our special day and I’ll write about the next part in a few weeks. I hope that whets your appetite for flyfishing in Ireland, and you will consider one of my guided trips in 2026!
Tight lines 😉