Every angler has one fish that stands above all others - the moment where preparation, persistence and opportunity align. Each year, the Farlows team spend countless hours on rivers, lakes and coastlines around the world, pursuing everything from wild brown trout to powerful saltwater predators. The Fish of the Year is not always the biggest, but the most memorable: the fish that tested skill, patience and resolve, and left a lasting impression long after its safe release.
From remote African lagoons to the unexpected opportunities of urban London chalkstreams, these are the stories behind our Fish of the Year 2025.
Lucy's River Madison Trout in Montana
LUCY BOWDEN, MARKETING EXECUTIVE
In 2024 I was incredibly lucky to visit Montana for the first time and in 2025, with my husband Howard working over in the USA, the opportunity arose to go again. Of course I jumped at the chance! As many know, July is one of ‘the’ months for fishing in Big Sky Country and it didn’t disappoint.
Three Dollar Bridge located on the Upper Madison River is world-renowned for its fishing. A bucket-list spot for many anglers, conservation efforts protect miles of public fishing access in the area. Note... the boulders are much bigger than they look!
We arrived early to a relatively quiet car park. Howard and I regularly fish together and strong rainbows and brown trout were the order of the day, with fish typically between 14-16 inches and larger fish of 18”- 20” caught often enough to cause some excitement.
Fishing began well with me hooking into some smaller rainbows and the odd brown - nothing to write home about in terms of size, but the fight on those little fellas is something else! Howard managed some larger fish, but who cares, the fun is in the sport after all!!
I made my way upriver, fishing as I went, trying to land my fly in areas that looked fishy. I began with a hopper, casting it out and letting it drift downstream, keeping enough tension not to miss any takes but enough slack to prevent drag. This is much easier said than done with such a fast river as the Madison!
Suddenly, out of nowhere came this giant head! Damn - I missed it! It being the largest fish I’d seen on the trip. I shouted Howard to come over, arriving to a rather overly excited Lucy recounting the moments beforehand for him to tell me to calm down and take a breath. Forever a competitive angler, the ability to remain calm in what, to me, were hugely stressful circumstances isn’t a skill I possess!
He suggested changing my fly. We didn’t have time to waste - I wanted to catch the monster I’d just seen but, as always, he was right - “let the water rest, don’t spook the fish.”
This time, a nymph - a different pattern at a different depth can often tempt a likely wary fish to take, otherwise continuous use of the same fly with the same drift will likely spook it.
I cast it out into the same small pocket central between two boulders and a good three metres or so into the water. Nothing. I did the same again and nothing. That’s it I thought, he’s gone.
Suddenly - BANG - what a take! Screaming (of course!) and with a huge smile on my face I kept tight hold, letting him run when he wanted but ensuring tension was there. I wasn’t going to lose him this time!
The Madison is a strong, powerful river and with its many rocky obstacles, the fight wasn’t easy. Finally, after what felt like forever, I brought him in and what a fish. A rainbow, probably 16”-17” rested in my net. I couldn’t believe my luck!
With a baby now on the way in 2026, I am fully ready to swap out my fishing trips for nappies and feeds for a while and feel incredibly lucky to have had the experiences I have had to date.
Wishing you all tight lines for the year ahead.
Rupert & His Son's Trout at the Sportfish Game Fishing Centre
In 2024 my Farlows staff fish of the year was a lovely hen salmon of around 16lbs from a Northumberland river. After a long summer drought in 2025, there were constant downpours in September which filled the rivers up there, so things were looking good for my regular trip up North.
As always, I was excited about the prospect of something similar, maybe even bigger, that might end up as my 2025 fish of the year. In the weeks leading up to my trip, a shot of me fishing one of my favourite spots there in super conditions was constantly going around in my head…
The reality was very different. The rain simply didn’t stop. The river was high, rising and chocolate coloured for all my days on the water.
Lovely though it was to be in a favourite salmon fishing spot, there wasn’t much fishing and I didn’t catch a fish. The weather can’t be controlled, which is always a gamble in salmon fishing.
So another cracking salmon isn’t my fish of the year in 2025. In fact, after some thinking, my fish of the year isn’t even my fish. In early Spring I took my twelve year old son, along with fellow Farlows staff Ashton and Richard (also with his young son), to the Sportfish Game Fishing Centre in Theale. Run by our sister brand Sportfish, they have two crystal clear trout lakes in a lovely setting.
We had the place all to ourselves for a few hours. It was a lovely day out, passing on our knowledge to our sons, with Ashton also helping to teach them, allowing their dads to have a few minutes fishing themselves (and teenage sons don’t always listen to their dads!). Both boys caught fish, my son a strong rainbow on a blue flash damsel. Seeing their enthusiasm and the excitement on their faces when they hooked up with a fish was brilliant.
I think actually I now find it more satisfying watching others catch fish, than catching my own. It’s really important that there are people, whether it’s family or friends, willing to introduce the younger generations to fly fishing, to get them to care about preserving our wonderful lakes and rivers, to immerse them in nature and give them a break from their screens, and hopefully inspire a passion that lasts a lifetime.
Ashton Pohl’s Gabon Tarpon - A Silver King in the Darkness
ASHTON POHL, SENIOR SALES ADVISOR
A journey to Gabon’s remote Setta Cama lagoon led Ashton Pohl into one of the world’s most challenging tarpon fisheries. After days of broken rods, screaming reels and missed opportunities, one final cast in the darkness connected him to the silver king. What followed was a chaotic beach battle, shared with friends under head torch beams, and the safe release of a magnificent tarpon - a moment that defined his Fish of the Year 2025.
Simon's Wild Brown Trout Caught Twice
SIMON TILBURY, GROUP HEAD OF MARKETING
My 2025 season had a few interesting “firsts”. Despite living in St Albans for 15 years, I actually got round to fishing the river Ver, the tiny chalkstream that runs through my home town. I walk past a bit of the river on one of my favourite dog walks a mile or so out of town and finally did a bit of research, arranged to fish it and caught a lovely 1lb wild brownie on a size 16 PTN.
My second “first” was using a streamer on my regular home stretch, something I hadn’t even thought about in 5 seasons of fishing there. It’s about a mile of small, wild chalkstream 35 minutes from where I live that I rent from the farmer. Not much bigger than the Ver, but equally unstocked and unkempt (despite a few annual river maintenance sessions). But that’s how I like it.
In August 2025 I was at a little pool that is best fished downstream. Having fished it using a PTN with an orange wool indicator, I was retrieving my fly when a huge trout came from under the weedy overhang and grabbed my indicator. I only carry a box of nymphs and dries so had no lures. I returned the next time to the same spot with a black woolly bugger.
Nothing happened. I moved 20 yards downstream and drifted it in the undercurrent beneath the weeds and suddenly had a ferocious take. 5 minutes of mayhem later I had a 3.5lb wild brownie in the net. Until then, I had only caught 17 fish mostly around 1lb all season, and was beginning to think the otters that arrived in 2024 were having a serious impact (4 seasons ago I had caught 60 fish there in the same time period). In September 2025 alone I went on to catch 21 fish, most over 2lbs and 9 of them over 3lbs, the majority on a black streamer. The big fish were still there, just hiding more than usual.
Streamers are fun, especially if your more traditional methods aren’t being productive, but it’s not the type of fishing that I love most on that river. Nothing beats stealthily wading upstream, suddenly spotting a big wild fish and planning how to outwit it. The excitement when you see it. The anticipation as you cast, not knowing if you’ll spook it or whether it will make the net.
When your fly drifts perfectly towards the fish and you see the white of its mouth. Those are the moments that I live for on that river, even more so now that they are less common than they were.
So my fish of the year, and also my third “first”, is stalking and catching the same 2.5lb wild brownie on two separate occasions on a small nymph. The first time was in early August on a GRHE, a few hours after I caught my first ever fish on a streamer. And the second was in late September on a day when I caught 6 fish on the streamer, saw this same fish in the same spot near the submerged wooden barrel and caught it again, this time on a PTN.
Richard's Beautiful Chalkstream Brownie
RICHARD MIDGLEY, SALES ADVISOR
On beat one the water is low, real low but my spirits are high, real high…I move forward and point my Dart - Sage 7’6” # 4 paired with a Rio Creek - a laser beam disguised as a fly line. A trout rises and with pinpoint accuracy I shoot my fly straight…into an overhanging branch! My tippet is wrapped around the branch, no longer fit for use, the fish rises again… testing me.
The pool and my tippet both spent, I move up to the next pool. I spot a fish or two, maybe three, a nymph is hastily tied on…a pheasant tail! After the last disaster a new casting technique is required, it’s going to be a “bow and arrow” cast. I’m poised heron like, the pheasant tail dangling with intent between thumb and forefinger, I draw the bow, release the shot and the hook flies straight…into my thumb. There are expletives. I’ve hooked many fish, I guess it’s payback time. There’s something karmic about angling, for me anyway.
I meet the keeper, he’s a different kind of sage to the one I’m clutching in my hand. Advice taken or advice ignored…? I know which way I’m going, and that’s south towards the steeple, beyond the belfry, amongst the trees, along the boardwalk, over the swamp and onto the bank. Beat four.
There’s more water now, I see trout holding forward against the flow. All self-deprecation can be set aside, beat four is a tale of triumph! I target a particular fish, my cast lands right on target, delivered perfectly like the “expert” my day job suggests I’m supposed to be…slightly upstream, a gentle twitch of the nymph, a split second, a heartbeat, a flash of silver…fish on!
The bend of the rod, the energy through the line…always thrilling. I’m having a dialogue with nature. I step off the bank onto a convenient wooden platform over the water and within a few minutes have a beautiful brown trout with a wonderful coppery complexion in my net.
Only a two pound, chalkstream stocky, sure…certainly not the biggest or most exotic fish I have ever landed, but right now, right here on the banks of the Dever, it is the best damn fish I ever caught, until I catch another…big or small…I love them all! I smile as it swims away with a splash.
Tom Clinton’s Urban Carp - Chaos on the River Wandle
What began as a summer afternoon targeting urban brown trout on South London’s River Wandle quickly descended into chaos when a powerful carp engulfed Tom Clinton’s streamer. Under-gunned with a 3wt rod and stranded atop a high wall, what followed was an improvised descent into the river, a frantic battle and a hard-earned landing. The pristine 5lb carp, caught against all odds, became Tom’s unforgettable Fish of the Year 2025 - proof that remarkable fly fishing moments can happen in the most unexpected urban settings.
Where Will Your Fish of the Year Come From?
Every angler remembers the fish that mattered most - not always the biggest, but the one that arrived at the right moment, in the right place, and stayed with them long after it swam away. Whether yours comes from a remote destination, a favourite local river or an unexpected urban encounter, the next cast always holds possibility.
We’d love to hear your story - share your Fish of the Year in the comments and join the conversation with fellow anglers who understand exactly what makes those moments so special.
