[Mike Barrio]

I was very sad to hear that Raymond Bisset passed away on Friday ( Nov 3rd )

A keen angler, Raymond was an active member of Inverurie Angling Association for many years, and was made an honorary member when he stood down from the committee.

Well known for his dedication as an independent councillor with Aberdeenshire Council (and its predecessors) Raymond also served as Provost and was, I believe, the first to hold that title.

I am sure that his passion for fishing was a key factor in the council's understanding of the benefits of angling and the importance of river management and conservation. Much of the local fishing that we enjoy today, especially on the club managed waters of Inverurie, Kintore and Alford, has been influenced by Raymond's hard work over the years.

Raymond will be very much missed in the community.

The New Season

Gosh!  The water doon here, it’s lookin’ sae bra’,
Swalt in the hills wi’ a puckle o’ sna’,
Jist waitin’ for fishers aroon’ Inverurie,
Dress’d in waders, big socks and a muckle great tourie,
Tae cast in their lures wi’ the earnest intention
O catchin’ a fish wi’ sic human invention.

Their spirits are up an’ their hopes are real high,
That fish in abundance will swallie their fly,
For there’s naething tae beat the real thrill o’ a fish,
A twenty plus pounder’s a real fisher’s wish,
So it’s oot with the rod, an’ the reel an’ the line,
Tae pursue this ambition some wid class as divine.

There’s a fair puckle loons thit can cast a guid flee,
Oot ontae the waater – or stuck up a tree!
Some are pairt o’ a club, Inverurie AA,
That’s the reason we’re staunin aroon here the day,
Fou we’re gaither’t doon here on the banks of the river,
Tae listen tae Graham as his prayer he deliver.

Noo, there’s Peter an’ Brian, an’ Steven an’ Sam,
George, Gordon, Jim, Colin, they’ll aa’ taak a dram,
File gossipin’ oan’ ‘boot the monsters they’ve hook’d,
Aye – bit sometimes the real truth they dee overlook,
For they’re fishers, ye see, wi’ a host o’ guid stories
O’ battles wi’ fish an’ some ither past glories.

Bit awa’ fae their stories they work as a team,
Tae nurture an’ nourish the game angler’s dream,
O’ fishin a river that’s crystal an’ clear
Fae man-made pollution, focht year efter year,
An’ they also maak efforts tae bring tae the fore,
An interest in fishin’ – for youngsters galore.

So tae aa’ buddin’ fishers thit staun’ here the day,
I wish ye tight lines as ye gang on yir way,
Guid luck on yir visit tae Ury or Don,
An’ as for these monsters, just bring them richt on,
So come end o’ October, fin rods are put bye,
Ye’ve enjoy’d a guid season wi’ catches richt high.

Penned by Raymond Bisset

Address tae the Salmon

Fair faa’ yir sparklin’ silvery face,
Great chieftan o’ the fishin’ race,
Abeen them aa’ ye taak yir place
Eel, perch an’ thairm,
Weel are ye worthy o’ a grace as lang’s ma airm.

The groanin’ net, aye there ye fill,
Yir back-fin shaped like mighty hill,
Yir tail thit helps tae power yir waey in time o’ need,
‘File oan yir skin, yir scales they glint,
Like silver bead.

His line, see skilful angler cast,
Upon a waatir unco’ fast,
Mendin’ its traivil thro’ the stream wi’ flees thit flash,
An’ then, o’ fit a glorious yark,
An’ mighty splash!

Fae bank tae bank, ye leap an’ sweem,
Ye bend his rod, his reel – it screams,
‘Till comes the time ‘fin tired an’ raxed wi’ sic exertion,
Ye offer up yir regal sel’,
For his assertion.

Ye lie upon a sandy shore,
Wi’ een thit’s fu’ o’ tears galore,
Ye ken yir journey’s end is near, a life noo wastit,
Hopin’ the kill is quick an’ clean,
Yir end thit’s hastit.

Bit mark that loon, an angler true,
A nature lover thro’ an’ thro’,
As gazin’ doon at sic a mairvil at his feet,
Says he – a worthy adversiry, aye –
Sae regal even in defeat.

Wis there iver a better thrill fir me,
A fresh-run fish up fae the sea,
A bar o’ silver flickerin’ in God’s sun,
Come on though man, ye canna’ halt a journey
‘Fore its done.

For this King o’ aa’ Kings, he’s traivell’t far,
Fae time he wis a salmon parr,
Gaen’ miles tae Greenland’s shore fae Scottish stream,
Then back again in twa’ years time,
Tae grasp his dream.

Which is – tae procreate his race,
Tae spread his seed wi’ pristine grace,
Ower redds wi’ waitin’ eggs in grave’lly beds,
Ensurin’ lots aa’ cocks an’ hens
In times ahead.

So Salmo Salar, I salute, a race like yours, sae resolute,
Yir aim – tae keep yir species tae the fore
Go! – continue on yir journey’s quest,
Let naething try or caase arrest,
Gaen forth an’ spawn a host o’ young galore.

Penned by Raymond Bisset

[Ivor Duffus]

I remember attending the the Don prize giving in the banks of ury with Duncan. Fairly sure we were both still school kids at the time. Probably late 70s it was called the smoker at that time.

Am sure Raymond read out some Salmon poetry or shouted it as I seen to remember. He was my headmaster at Kintore school for a couple years and would always help you if you had a problem.


RIP Raymond

[Mike Barrio]

I don't go back as far as the Banks of Ury Ivor, but I went to 'The Smoker' at the Gordon Arms a few times. I knew Raymond had been a headteacher, but not at which school.

I always enjoyed his Doric poems, he often gave me a copy and his permission to reproduce them on here 

[Ivor Duffus]

I forgot about the smoker moving to the Gordon Arms. Must of moved after the Banks of Ury was sold early 80s. I think the function hall was turned into extra rooms.

Tickets for the Smoker available at Jimmy Duncan grocery which was good because you could buy a 1/4 lb of sliced ham when you got your ticket. I think Jim boiled the ham in the shop.