Cinderella Of The Streams

The underrated, enigmatic grayling embodies the spirit of winter and is at its peak during Advent, says David Profumo.

- David Profumo

GRACEFUL, inquisitive, moody and gregarious, with body details ranging from quicksilver to crimson, the European grayling is sometimes known as the freshwater sailfish and reputedly smells of thyme. for a countryman haunting the river in December, it embodies something of the spirit of winter. a relic of the Ice age, Thymallus thymallus (named after the herb) is a close relation of the formidable salmon tribe, but despite being badged with that sporty clan’s adipose fin, it was classified by the Victorians as a ‘coarse’ species and was regarded by generations of snobbish anglers as having been born on the wrong side of the piscatorial blanket. Wherever it was thought to be competing for food with ‘game’ species— or, worse still, gobbling their spawn—it was systematically culled as vermin.

The grayling was introduced to Britain from the Continent (possibly by monks) and is widely distributed across alpine, arctic and Scandinavian regions, where it thrives in chilly waters. Here, it now abounds from the West Country to the Welsh Marches, through the Pennines and Dales and up to the Tay system in Scotland. It’s absent from Ireland.

On the Tweed, it used to be netted out on some beats before Christmas. In the arctic Circle, where a closely related species sports a golden wrist to the tail, it was used as dog chow; the Inuit peoples called it Hewlock Powak: the fish with a fin like a wing, after its prodigious dorsal.