Throughout the length and breadth of Scotland you will find literally hundreds of lochs, many of them sea lochs, each with its own peculiar combination of characteristics. But in terms of uniqueness if there is such a word, nothing comes even remotely close to Loch Etive. At first glance you would be forgiven for thinking of it as a freshwater loch as it wouldn't look out of place dropped in amongst the Cumbrian lakes. That is until you pick up on the sea weed and buoyed strings of the mussel and oyster farmers. Only then do you get the message. Of course, you could always drop down a baited hook. You'd very quickly discover it's links to the sea. But based on the geography of the area and in particular the entrance into the loch, you can't help but wonder what fish are in the place at all.

I've fished Etive on a number of occasions. But my last visit really epitomizes just what the place is all about. Dave Devine and I had driven up to Oban to fish for common skate with Ronnie Campbell. You'd think a charter boat fishing in the shelter of Mull would be able to find sheltered water somewhere. But as we headed out towards Lishmore, a bitter cold north easterly was being channeled down Loch Linnhe to the point where waves were actually breaking over the wheelhouse roof. Obviously we had to abandon the day. It would have been foolhardy to have pressed on. So we asked Ronnie about the prospects of going in to Loch Etive. This is a nice little fall back option he has up his sleeve. But unfortunately, it can't simply be fished from Oban at the drop of a hat.

Getting into Loch Etive means taking the boat through the Connel narrows, the swirling force of which on an ebbing tide in particular has to be seen to be believed. I've watched boats trying to push on through the narrow gap from the Connel Bridge. Even with the throttle wide open they still seem to be making no headway, and on some occasions have even had to turn back. So a trip into Etive needs to be carefully timed and planned. I think on this occasion Ronnie took the boat in when conditions were at their most favourable later that evening so as to be ready for an early morning start. One point he did make was that he preferred to make the journey through without passengers. Read what you like into that one. Having witnessed the whirl pools and overfall's from the bridge, I was more than happy to meet him at Taynuilt where incidentally small boats can be put in.

The sheer force of water at the shallow mouth of the loch begs a number of other questions, particularly relating to fish. Why for example would deep water species such as spurdogs which are abundant in the place want to negotiate such a tricky entrance. The same question can be asked about hake which while they are not abundant, have been taken to nearly 20 pounds. Thornbacks, cod, wrasse and pollack are also in there for the taking. I don't know about common skate and black mouthed dogfish, both of which are found in the deep waters of the Sound of Mull and the entrance to Loch Linnhe just a stones throw from Connel. I've not heard of anyone catching either. But then again, the skate you would need to fish specifically for, and black mouthed dogs are thin on the ground at the best of times.

Heavy tackle isn't necessary as you won't need big leads to take the baits down. But make no mistake about it, this is braided line country. With around 300 feet of water under the boat over what feels like a very soft bed, with mono you would struggle to feel both the bottom and the bites. You get those sorts of depths even when you head inland as we did. And still the wind was howling as the surrounding hills channeled down the loch with bouts of hail and snow periodically mixed in for good measure. I've had some cold days in the past where you think to yourself what the hell am I doing here, but this one beat them all hands down. Still, having traveled all that way from Lancashire we were determined not to go home fishless, which on Loch Etive, thankfully, would be difficult to do.

As I mentioned earlier, spurdogs are the dominant species, particularly in the deeper parts of the loch. I personally have never seen a big spur here. They all seem to be around the 4 to 6 pound mark. I suppose there are bigger ones, but by and large they look like pea's out of the same pod. One striking feature is their colour. While spurs elsewhere, even those taken in 500 to 600 feet of water out in the nearby firth are slate grey in colour, every one of Etive's spurs is black. This suggests either an across the board environmental adaptation measure which I personally don't buy into, or more probably an isolated inbred population in which dark pigmentation has become endemic. With the latter the more likely reason, it would be interesting to see the results of a genetic survey to put this suggestion beyond doubt, then look to see if potentially thousands of years of isolation has thrown up any difference between the Etive fish and adjacent populations.

Thats my scientific bit out of the way. Why these fish, or any other species for that matter would want to negotiate the ferocity of the Connel Narrows beats me, particularly as they wouldn't know that more favourable conditions were awaiting them inside. You would think that most would turn back. Thankfully however, they didn't, providing a useful any weather fall back. Squid seems to be the favoured bait for the spurs, especially when fished from luminous hokkai's which caught probably three fish to every one coming up on normal baited hooks. We also had a couple of small cod and a thornback for our efforts. It's difficult to say just exactly what else we might have taken as we stuck it out all day in the deeper water and had a very limited range of baits because we had originally set off with only squid and mackerel intending to fish for common skate. Perhaps next time we will take a planned day out with a more purposeful investigation in mind.