MARTIN McGuinness wrote a poem about it last year; others have laments. Not since Fionn MacCumhail singed his thumb on a salmon has there been so much waxing lyrical about the fate of an aquatic animal of the Pisces superclass.

Well, almost. It is seven long years since the sea trout "collapse" was first identified on the Connemara coastline, and longer still since anglers and fish farmers were set at loggerheads over the rod licence issue. Even now, after considerable State expenditure on scientific research, there is no consensus on cause and effect. In the meantime, there is good news from the West.

To appreciate just how "good", one has to understand the impact of the fall in recorded catches of the Salmo trutta. Until 1989, the life cycle of the sea trout was steeped in more myth than scientific fact. Game anglers engaged in anthromorphism. "Child of the tides" was how the Department of the Marine scientist, Edward Fahy, described a fish considered to be the Adam and Eve of the trout species with an ancestry dating back 10,000 years.

The fascination for Fahy, and for the many anglers who read his book, was the complexity of this life cycle. Returning from the sea in late spring and summer, adult sea trout spawn in the autumn in mountain streams and rivers. The young stay in freshwater for up to four years before migrating to the sea as smolts. They will return several times to spawn in freshwater; though longer living, their homing device is less accurate than that of the salmon.

In 1989 and 1990, the renowned Burnshoole catchment in south Mayo recorded a sharp decline in adult spawning stock, falling from over 1,700 in the early 1980s to a mere 32 fish. There followed campaigns. reports, conservation measures, and bitter accusations through the media. Bord Failte dropped sea trout fisheries from its international publicity. With the fall out from the rod licence war still palpable in Connemara, the culprit was identified as sea lice emanating from fish farm cages.

The aquaculture industry initially denied all responsibility but looked to both modern chemical remedies and ancient, terrestrial farming practices for a solution. "Fallowing" of sea sites not only reduced disease; it also reduced levels of lice.

Over in Newport, south Mayo, the Salmon Research Agency (SRA), which was originally set up with Guinness funding, was at the forefront of the research. In tandem with efforts to find the cause, remedial measures had to be addressed. The answer? A gene bank, if the sea trout was not to become extinct.

The Electricity Supply Board (ESB), which had a record of restocking on foot of hydro electrification, provided seed funds for research. This was uncharted territory for Dr Russell Poole and his SRA team. Reconditioning wild sea trout kelts, and rearing them in captivity as broodstock, had not been tried before.

Fishery owners were approached. Burrishoole, Erriff, Costello and Crumlin agreed to co operate, the aim being to build up the four stocks into a "Connemara broodstock bank". Three years ago, the programme boasted 10,000 eggs. Now, Dr Poole's team expects to record 1.5 million.

DEVELOPED ova were disinfected, planted out in hatcheries in these recognised tourist fisheries, and then introduced directly into rivers and lakes after some three or four months of growth. Out in Clew Bay, some 2,600 sea trout now hum in clear water cages. There have been some losses but the mortality rate is remarkably low at all stages, according to Dr Poole.

Earlier this year, for instance, Costello put out 34,000 fish, grown from 36,000 eggs. "It is probably the best performance to date."

Funded now by the European Regional Development Programme until 1999, the project has received assistance from the Central and Western Regional Fisheries Board, the Department of the Marine, Bord Iascaigh Mhara, BP Nutrition, and a local fish farm, Sea Queen. Understandably cautious fishery owners have been vital to its success.

"Our annual restocking is not going to replace the 24-25 million lost to Connemara since the collapse," Dr Poole says. "But it will prevent a wipe out."

The 100 million dollar question is - is it worth it? "If the collapse is not addressed, it isn't," Dr Poole says. However, he believes that the fish farming practice of fallowing has worked. The greatest risk now is local, and often uninformed, opposition to these new cage sites.

He is confident that the aqua culture industry is, by and large, trying to address the issue. A little more public understanding might help, he believes. Leaning over the netting to view his brood in their Clew Bay cage, he has even begun to resemble a fish farmer himself.