British Columbia Fishing Blog

Most anglers travel aboard to experience good fishing. It is not a cheap process. The cost of transportation and accommodation usually limits the time one is able to spend on a trip. Adding the weather and other environmental factors, it further limits the chance of the trip of a lifetime.

While my visit in Denmark is primarily a personal one, I have used the opportunity to experience a variety of angling opportunities that are available in this country. The fishing is definitely not as good as what most regions of Canada offer in terms of quantity and size. In fact, many Danes have questioned why I come over to fish, when most of them fly to British Columbia to fish for several weeks each year.

Although it would be a lie if I suggest that size and number do not matter, my obsession in these explorations is mostly on new species that I may encounter. Being able to catch a new fish species is an exciting experience, whether they are big, small, or considered ugly or pretty. The large diversity of fish species makes this possible. Since my arrival in early May, I have encountered seven species, including a new one for the book – A tiny Atlantic cod that was by-caught while targeting garfish.

Another species that is on my to-catch list is the European grayling. Several years ago, we took a trip to the western region of Denmark and attempted to catch one. No grayling were sighted but we managed to find some brown trout and discovered the spring creek fishery that is only available in this part of the country. The previous trip was poorly planned. Without much prior research, I armed myself with a 6 weight rod and showed up with some enormous flies. Meanwhile everyone else had a 3 weight and flies that I needed a magnifying glass to see. One of my wishes has been to return with the correct gear so I could finally catch one.

This region, more commonly known as Jutland (Jylland in Danish), is slightly hillier than the area around Copenhagen. Groundwater-fed creeks can be found across this peninsula. Some have never been tampered, while others have been restored since being damaged by the agricultural movement in mid 1900’s. Habitat rebuilding and hatchery supplementing have brought most of these streams back to life with grayling, brown trout and salmon.

This week, we decided to spend two days exploring a stream in Southern Jutland called Grindsted, which is known for its grayling fishery. The trip did not turn out as smoothly as hoped. Both Nina and I picked up a cold just before it. Mother nature decided to make it more frustrating by bringing on the strong wind. The heat wave that we had earlier in the week abruptly ended. We seemed to have picked the coolest days of this spring for our only road trip. As if that would not be miserable enough, I realized that I had forgotten my Goretex jacket halfway into the drive.

Road trip!

Heavy rainstorms and pockets of sunshine dominated the sky as strong gusts moved the clouds swiftly across the land and sea.

It was not going to be a cheap excursion. Unlike North America, driving is considered a luxury that comes with a steep price in Denmark. Gasoline cost is over $2.00/litre, so people only drive if absolutely necessary. Our trip involved crossing the Great Belt Bridge that requires a toll, which is just over $40.00 each way! While these costs may seem unreasonable, they ensure that people would utilize the resource with moderation and the best public services would be provided.

Pay up!

Crossing the Great Belt Bridge was an adventure itself. We were lucky as usual, a heavy rainstorm hit us just before the crossing began. Combining the low visibility and strong cross wind, the little car ended up drifting from one lane to another without much control. The sweaty palms gripped onto the steering wheel tightly. “Has a car ever fallen off the bridge because of the wind?”, I asked when we reached the highest point. 

As mentioned in an earlier blog entry, freshwater fishing opportunities in Denmark are significantly more limited and expensive compared to BC. In BC, a basic annual freshwater fishing license gives you immediate access to hundreds of lakes and streams where the likelihood of catching multiple trout is big. Inexpensive conservation surcharges provide additional opporunities in quality fisheries. Stream banks in Denmark are mostly privately owned, so access to its stream fisheries often requires the purchase of a day pass if you do not belong to the club that rents the river bank. A day pass also does not grant you the right to fish anywhere as you wish. Limited river banks where fishing is permissible are drawn out on the map. For this particular river, the cost of a day pass is $20.00.

Once obtaining the passes, I was eager to make a few casts so it was a no brainer that I wanted to head to the river. I arrived at the spot that was recommended to me within minutes. The creek is indeed tiny. The width was no more than ten metres. The river banks are high and covered in tall vegetations. A closer examination of the creek made me scratching the head. The river bed is mostly made of sand and clay, while patches of weeds could be seen. The depth is perhaps half to one metre. The water was close to gin clear. Where would the fish be hiding?

A typical Danish stream.

I began walking downstream. The more I walked, the more baffled I became. Finally I came upon a bend, where the stream current seemed to vary slightly. I decided to sit and study it more. Suddenly a small rise appeared at the bend. A minute later, it appeared again. Shaking with excitement, I tied on a small dry fly and hoped that the same fish would go for another hatch. Standing further downstream, I casted up so it would drift into where the previous rise was. The wind was not making it easy. The fly landed too close to the bank in the first two attempts.

After some adjustments and a few curses, it finally landed at where I wanted it to be. It drifted through the run with no reaction. Several more drifts also did not yield the result that I was hoping for. Just as I was about to move on, one rose up to the fly but I had already stopped concentrating. It was a pathetic miss. I quickly flicked the fly back upstream. As if it was calculated, the fish came up again. This time, I was quick on the hookset and the new 2 weight rod was dancing in no time. It was a small fish, not much longer than eight inches. I was not sure what it may be. I saw spots on the back, was it a brown trout? When it reached the muddy shoreline, I was pretty happy to see that it was my first ever grayling. The horizontal line patterns, the unique dorsal fin, I’ve seen them in photographs many times, but it definitely look way cooler in real life.

With one fish brought to the hands already, I thought that the rest of the trip was going to be just as easy. I returned to our cabin for a quick supper soon after.

Nina and I returned that evening for the hatches. The evening time is known to be quite good as many fish rise for a good feed of insects.

I decided to tie a nymph on Nina’s line, so it would be easier for her to fish. She only casted downstream several times before missing a tug. A few casts later, the same fish darted out of the weedbed for another bite. This time it was not so lucky. The fish leaped straight out of the water and landed on a nearby weed patch.

 

It was yet another tiny fish, but this time it was a brown trout, which was also Nina’s first ever.

Our evening session ended much earlier than we had anticipated because the cold wind was no longer tolerable while being sick. Perhaps the second day would bring better luck?

The next morning, I ventured out alone at 10:00am. Although others have recommended me to only focus on the evening, since most hatches and surface feeding happen during that time. I wanted to scout the river some more and see if I could entice a fish or two anyway in late morning, perhaps by nymphing.

Perhaps they are hidden under the weeds?

Signs of spring.

I returned to the stretch of river where Nina hooked the tiny brown trout, because I also spotted a couple of fish that evening. As I walked along the edge, I inspected the water and looked for signs of movement on the river bed. Even though the water is only knee deep at most places, it was actually quite difficult to spot a fish. The tinted water only allowed me to see the bottom clearly at times. Weeds that are anchored to the bottom drifted from side to side, which could easily be mistaken as fish. It only took a short while before I came across some exciting discovery. At the exact same place where I saw a fish on the previous evening, I spotted it yet again. Not only did I spotted a fish, I stumbled across a dozen of his companions! It was a school of grayling, ranging from tiny fingerlings to fully grown adults. The large ones seemed to be at least 16 inches in length. They sat quietly on the bottom of a gully and darted in and out of the weeds occasionally.

A rather fishy looking spot.

There’s one!

I carefully tied onto a nymph that resembles a shrimp and proceeded to place it above the gully so it would drift into it. They should bite right? There is no reason that a fish wouldn’t take a food item when it is placed in front of its face. They do that back in BC all the time! Not so in this case. After numerous drifts and strips, the tug never came. I walked back downstream to check if they had moved. All of them were still at the exact same spot, behaving as if they were sleeping.

Frustrated, I walked further upstream to other spots and also found other fish holding in them. There were not as many, but they were just as inactive. The rest of the morning involved plenty of fish watching and no catching. I returned to the car around lunchtime and found three anglers enjoying their lunch by the river. They also reported a lack of catching. Too cold perhaps, one angler suggested. At least that was a bit of consolation! It always feels good when others are also not catching, because then the blame can be put on the fish instead of the angler.

A tiny dry fly on the 2 weight is a typical setup for this fishery.

Rainstorms rolled into the region that afternoon so we stayed indoor and sorted all the lovely scenery photographs that I had taken. Always bring a camera to fishing of course, it is a good time killer when there are no fish to catch.

After supper, I returned to the river and was determined to fish until sundown (11:00pm) so I could fool a riser if there was going to be one. The wind was still howling loudly and the air is as chilly as that morning. The chance of a strong hatch was basically slim to none, but it was worth a try anyway since I did not have another evening.

Like a dog sniffing his way back home, I sprinted back to where the fish were. They were still there. I flicked out a dry fly to see if any would be willing to take a bite. Each drift yielded the same result, these fish were not tempted.

Somewhat deflated, I decided to explore further upstream and came across a stretch of water that was heavily covered with trees on both sides. Perhaps the shaded water would hold some unsuspecting fish. I stuck my head out and stared for a minute. There were indeed several fish actively circling in the run. Optimism re-emerged, I positioned myself carefully so I could send the dry fly out without catching a branch or spooking these fish. Just when I was about to haul forward after the first back cast, I felt that dreadful tightening of the line. The fly was tucked away between branches, out of the reachable height. I immediately broke it off, as any attempt to save it would be useless. I tied on another and began flicking it out. The fly landed as perfectly as I wanted. It slowly drifted into the striking zone. Two fish suddenly swam around in a panic manner, they had obviously seen the fly. Despite of the commotion, none rose to strike it. Once it was out of the strike zone, I slowly picked it up and proceeded to flick it back upstream. Just as I was ready to shoot it out after two false casts, the wind carried the fly into the branch again! It is always the wind of course, or the trees have moved. No self-respecting flycaster would take the blame when the fly snags up on the backcast, right?

Heavily covered, a flyfisher’s nightmare.

By this point, optimism had turned into anger. Fly number two was now donated to the same tree. I retied and began sending it back upstream. This time, I paid great attention to the tree behind me, but had forgotten the overhanging one upstream from me. I overshot the cast and the fly wrapped itself around the branch! I looked on with disgust and broke the fly off, sending a pile of leaves into the water. Any chance of getting a rise had probably vanished with that performance.

Feeling quite hopeless, I decided to walk back downstream and continue further down to the stretch where I had not gone before. On my way down, I met a gentleman who has fished this particular stream for 30 years. We chatted briefly and I asked for some pointers. After all, local knowledge is the best one could ask for. He explained that the grayling population has improved tremendously in the last decade. Fish up to 50cm have been caught. Although the fish are plentiful, catching one is another story. As I had suspected, even with the access fee, angling pressure is quite high so fish become pretty educated as a result. A good day of fishing usually means catching a few fish. Coming from BC, that definition seems alien to me, since a good day of fishing actually means catching dozens of fish. Can you say spoiled?

After a quick chat, I continued downstream. The river became less meandering and vegetations along the banks were not as thick. Casting and fishing is easier in this situation, but would this less structured water hold just as many fish? Feeling that the air remained cool, I decided to switch to a nymph and casted as I walked down the river. After a dozen or so casts, I felt a quick tug and a tiny trout leaped out as I set the hook. It popped itself off as quickly as it got on, but it lifted the spirit slightly.

I continued on and took a peek over the steep bank at times. Soon after, I spotted a large grayling when I looked down. It was at least 18 inches in length. The grey body blended in with the clay background very effectively, making it appear and disappear under the dim light like a ghost. I rushed back up the river slightly, so I could position the nymph in front of this fish. Again, it was not so interested in my offering, which wasn’t too surprising.

A Nordic summer evening.

While still attempting to trigger this fish to bite, I heard a solid splash further downstream. I looked up and spotted the ripples from that rise. It was 10:00pm, perhaps this is when the evening feed begins? I retied on the dry fly and made my way down the river until I was ten metres downstream from the rise. I browsed through the water and found the entire river bed void of weeds except the edges. Where could this fish be?

Not knowing where it was, I casted blindly into the structureless water. I could not see signs of fish in the first several drifts, then suddenly a rather large brown trout darted out of the weed! It positioned itself in the middle of the shallow channel and slowly drifted backward. It was clearly aiming for the dry fly. I looked on nervously. Was it going to take it? As the fly reached its striking zone, this fish rose slightly but turned away just before it reached the fly. Even though the lighting was low, it must have figured out the game.

The evening session ended without much more excitement. Not a single rise could be seen. A few more grayling were spotted in the water, but they were just as tight lipped.

Grazing horses by the river.

The goal of this trip was certainly accomplished. Another new species is added onto my list. A few more catches would have been nice, considering the amount of expenses needed for the trip. Some say a memorable catch is priceless, perhaps I will think so in a few years from now. What this trip has made me believe even more firmly, is that British Columbia indeed offers the most productive freshwater fisheries at the lowest price. It is difficult to realize and appreciate this until you are given the chance to experience foreign fisheries and make comparisons.

It has been gusty along the coast for several days now. The wind finally eased up slightly and changed its direction today. This does not necessarily mean that the beach fishing is better. Whenever it is windy, seaweed tends to be washed up the coast so it would be tiresome to drag them up on every retrieve. Beside, garfish seem to still dominate the sea and sea trout fishing is only good late in the evenings. I was looking for a change of scenery and contemplated where to fish this weekend. We decided to slow the pace down slightly, by scouting out some smaller water bodies this evening.

Unlike Canada, the eastern part of Denmark lacks lakes and rivers so most of the fishing is done along the coast. Large lakes and rivers are typically managed by fishing organizations and a day fee is required. Although freshwater fishing opportunities are pretty limited, there are still places where you can enjoy it for free.

Little swamps and ponds can be found across this island, they are footprints of the last glaciation. Trout are absent in these tiny puddles, but they have an incredibly rich diversity of life. Small coarse fish such as roach and rudd make up the bottom of the food chain while large predators such as northern pike and perch keep the populations in check. Other fish found in them include tench, bream and a variety of carp species.

They are species that do not excite most anglers, but I really enjoy seeing new species that I have enver encountered before. While in high school, I briefly watched a few match fishing shows from UK and had wanted to catch these species. Several springs ago, I finally had a chance to do so, but did not have the right equipment for them. During my stay in Denmark this time, I have brought along some of the light tackle that I usually use for peamouth chub back home.

After studying the map, we decided to check out a swamp near Nina’s hometown, which is about 20 minutes of driving from Copenhagen. The swamp is tucked away in the middle of a large field, making it a pretty peaceful setting for fishing even though we are not too far away from the city.

The busiest traffic crossing in the area.

A protective parent.

I decided to set Nina up with a float rig. The thin float only takes two tiny split shots to balance, perfect for detecting bites from small coarse fish. The long spinning rod and thin line allows her to cast the light setup without much difficulty. Knowing that there could be pike or perch around, I chose to bring along my spincasting setup with my 1/8oz green spinners that have always been so good to me on just about all predatory species that I target.

Bait, whip and wait.

Several seconds after Nina’s float settled on the water, it dipped a few times. This is one appealing feature of the coarse fishery, the waiting game is always short! The fish are almost always abundant and never too selective.

She missed the first several bites by yanking the rod too hard. The float flew straight out of the water everytime. I guess that we had been fishing for garfish so much lately, it is easy to forget how soft the mouth of these fish is. With a bite of adjustment in technique, the first fish made its way to the bank.

She lifted it up by the line and tried to see what it was. It took awhile but we figured out that it was a rudd, which looks quite similar to a roach.

After letting it go, Nina rebaited and chucked the rig out. The float once again disappeared before she had a chance tightening up the slack line. It seemed to be a smaller fish as it came in quite swiftly. It was a roach, which was much more slender than a rudd. Two species in two casts, this was turning into a pretty good start.

Nina repeated this process for the rest of the evening. I decided that it was time to throw the spinner out after taking enough photographs. The swamp seems to be pretty shallow and weedy, so I had no high expectations. The first few casts ended with some weed on the line during the retrieve. Once I had determined how deep it was, I made some adjustment to my retrieve and that solved the problem instantly. The grassy bank on the other side actually looked very appealing. If a pike or perch was in this swamp, it would be over there. At least that was my theory. I made a few long casts and the spinner landed right by the weed patch. Still expecting nothing, I watched Nina’s float and chatted as I retrieved it. Suddenly I felt a solid tug. It was definitely not a piece of weed, but I hesitated to pull because my mind was still on the float.

Hoping that it would go for it again, I aimed for the same spot. I felt another tug after a few turns on the reel. This time, I set the hook hard. The light spinning rod was bent to the cork and I could felt some shaking at the end of the line. What could it be? I carefully guided the fish into the shallow as I only had a size 4 single barbless hook on the lure. The fish appeared on the surface of the copper-coloured water. It was a small pike! The fish was only perhaps 20 inches long, but I was very thrilled regardless. Nina grabbed the camera and prepared to snap a shot while I celebrated. The fish thrashed on the surface and suddenly freed itself. It sat on the bottom and jetted into the deep after several seconds. I was still pretty caught up with the excitement so was not too disappointed by the loss.

Two casts later, I felt another solid tug just as I started retrieving the spinner. The rod was once again being put to work. It felt just as heavy as the previous fish, but it fought differently. A good sized perch appeared on the surface after 30 seconds. Nina once again brought out the camera, but this fish was also camera shy. It dashed away after shaking the hook off without much effort. This catch and release method is working a bit too efficiently.

I proceeded to hook two more perch, but both also failed to make it to shore. I checked the hook for problems, but it seemed to be find so I guess that the angler was not so fine.

When I finally had a fish posing in front of the camera, it was much smaller than the ones that I had lost earlier. Aren’t the ones that get away always bigger? Nevertheless, it was a pretty fish. The green body, black bands, red fins are all classic characteristics of the European perch.

Brightly red fins.

A tiny northern pike followed soon after. This seemed to be a world of minis. Despite of its unspectacular size, this specimen was in very good condition.

Baby toothy fish.

I finished the evening with one more perch on my line. It was a slightly bigger specimen than the previous fish.

Meet spiky!

Unlike yellow perch in North America, European perch can grow up to several pounds in weight. Perhaps due to the swamp size, they are unable to grow much bigger? That is most likely not the case, because we did see some biggies rolling on the surface just before dark. For a scouting trip, it was certainly a rather successful one based on the number of species caught. Perhaps this swamp still has other hidden secrets, which we shall find out when we return in the near future.

After experiencing a different fishery in the Baltic Sea for two weeks, it was time to try something new. I mean, catching one garfish after another was great, but it was beginning to seem quite repetitive. I decided to check out the freshwater scene last Sunday. I recall fishing in one of the streams a few springs ago and seeing large northern pike exploding on the surface for food. At that time, I could only look on helplessly because I did not have the right gear. This time I brought some large poppers with me so I could tempt one or two of these toothy fish.

The nights are getting much shorter in Denmark. I had planned the outing for early in the morning, but sunrise was at 4:44am. Not being a morning person, I struggled to wake up at 3:45am and found the sky already quite bright. The drive was 30 minutes long and by the time I arrived, the sun was just rising in the horizon. It was a good thing that the river is quite shaded from trees, so I still had fair amount of time to bring a pike to the surface.

I quickly made my way to the river and found a couple of large fish rolling immediately. I was not sure what species they were. Perhaps they were sea trout, but judging by the time of the year, they were most likely large pikes. I began casting my popper and working my way systematically down the river. To make a long story short, my early morning effort was not rewarded. I ended the trip at 10:00am. The highlight of the morning was perhaps a herd of cattles that kept following me around by the river. Most river access in Denmark involves crossing a farming field.

What are they up to?

Deflated and tired, I returned home and was prepared to rest for the remainder of the day. I logged onto the net and found an email from Henning in the inbox. Funny enough, the email included an invitation to a pike fishing trip that evening. I was quite exhausted, but did not hesitate to accept that invitation. Henning and I had in fact not met. We corresponded by email because he also documents his fishing trips in a blog. Over the years, the internet has aided me to share my fishing experience with others in both Canada and Denmark. Many anglers often fear the damages that the internet may do to fishing, but I have found it to be more beneficial than damaging by creating a tighter network among anglers.

Henning and I agreed to meet at 6:00pm near the lake where we intend to fish. The lake is “private”, like most freshwater systems in Denmark. Fishing is only granted for those who belong to the fishing club that manages it. Members, such as Henning, have the privelege to keep their boats at the club dock and use them whenever desired. For non-members, they can pay around CAD$20 to use one of the club boats and fish the lake for one day. It is a slightly more expensive system than what is available in British Columbia, but it is still within reasonable cost.

The sun was still shining brightly at 6:00pm. It was rather calm, which is really unusual in this windy nation. We made our way out in Henning’s boat. Poppers rigged, it was time to nail some pike.

We rowed past an island at one point and it was just covered with blackheaded gulls. Henning said that these birds return each summer to feed and breed. They were very active and noisy. At times a bird would be interested in our poppers on the water surface but quickly turn away after realizing what they were.

The first three sections of the lake that we tried did not produce any risers except a couple of possible movements just below the surface. After a couple of hours, we reached a shallow bay where small fish were feeding on the surface. Perhaps there were bigger ones lurking beneath? They were indeed! Soon after we began casting, henning had the first chaser right behind the popper but he failed to connect.

I suddenly became rather excited. Being able to see a sign of fish always raises the confidence. I aimed for a patch of weed not far from his bite. While still chatting with Henning about his miss, a large fish suddenly thrashed over my popper. I yanked the rod but also missed the fish! Now the excitement really started just when the sun set behind the hill.

We casted to the same spots repeatedly, but these fish seemed to have learned quickly. They never came back for another gulp. Henning rowed the boat out of the bay slightly so we could drift back in and give it one more try. I decided to switch the popper to a large spoon. Perhaps a sub-surface lure could tempt the same fish. I aimed for the area where Henning originally missed a fish. It only took a few casts before we had another sighting. While retrieving the spoon back to the boat, I watched it in the water as usual. In a split second, I could see a large pike emerging behind it. Both Henning and I screamed, I guess he had seen it too. I felt a slightly bump, but it never commited to a bite.

Hope began to diminish as the sun disappeared. We slowly rowed toward the dock and made a few more stops for some casts, but it seemed like all the fish had gone to bed. We ended the trip at 10:00pm and there was still enough daylight for us to make our way out of the forest.

Although no fish were connected, it was another new, different and exciting fishery for me, with another fantastic fishing company. For several years now, I have been seeking for these toothy predators. When I first decided to target northern pike, my presumption was that they would be much easier to catch than salmonids. After many attempts, it has become quite apparent that it is more challenging than I had expected.

It seems like when I have had enough of catching one garfish after another, I decide to give it one more try. I had originally planned to switch my target species to sea trout this evening but decided to go back to the usual spot instead briefly. The garfish were plentiful as usual. The size 4 single barbless hook that I switched to seemed to keep the fish on much better than the small treble hooks that I have been using. Here is a series of photographs from this evening, taken by Nina. Perhaps it is finally time to start chasing other species.

The biggest challenge that I encounter when planning a fishing trip in Denmark is the weather, which seems to be constantly changing. The wind direction and strength shift by the hour, rainstorms roll in with only a few minutes of notice. Early this morning, a rather large thunderstorm passed by and woke me up. It was a photo opportunity not to be missed because I rarely see lightnings around Vancouver. After a few dozen tries, I managed to capture this lightning shot in the dark.

The evenings have been quite pleasant lately. The light southerly breeze is quite tolerable, especially when the temperature is hovering in the mid to high teens. Seeing that garfish are abundant to the point that every cast would result in one bite after another, I thought perhaps evenings may bring out other species when these long needlefish go to bed.

We went to a nearby beach at 8:00pm, giving ourselves a couple of hours to find a few tugs before dark. Armed with the video camera, Nina kept the film rolling while I brought in one garfish after another. The bite went on for about an hour and died down suddenly, which seems to be pretty normal as it gets dark. Seeing that we had captured enough footages (please look for the video later this summer), I handed the fishing rod to Nina so she could make a few casts.

She found the bites pretty quickly. The rod was kicking just after her second cast. It did not behave like a garfish. This fish kept itself in the deep and put up a rather good fight as Nina reeled it in. When it surfaced in front of us, both of us shouted out at the same time, “It’s a cod!”

In the last couple of years, we have been told that cod is a pretty common species in the coastal fishery. This was our, or should I say, Nina’s, first cod in Denmark. Although not very big, it was worth celebrating. We took a couple of photographs before letting it swim away. This little guy will eventually grow up to its potential size, 40lb, at least that is our hope.

There must have been a school of them, because we managed to connect with two more cod and miss many other strong tugs. The light spinning rod definitely kept the action pretty fun even though these fish were no more than 40cm long. Perhaps I should return next time with a stiffer rod and heavier lures to target larger specimen in the deeper sections.