British Columbia Fishing Blog

 

In Scandinavia, the month of May marks the beginning of a season that is celebrated by every life form. The spring landscape is much more pleasant. The green fields are covered by wild flowers. The rocky shoreline is thickened with algae and other microscopic inhabitants. After a long, dark Baltic winter, people are eager to be out in the sun as much as possible by jogging, kayaking or simply relaxing in a park. It is a celebration that no one would want to miss.

While this is happening, another annual phenomena is not being unnoticed. The migration of garfish (Belone belone), which is either love or hate by anglers, usually starts in late April and tapers off by the third week of May. Not to be confused with North America’s freshwater gars, these garfish are in fact a species of needlefish that are pelagic in the Eastern Atlantic Ocean, Mediterranean Sea and Baltic Sea. They are loved because they are easy to catch and tasty on the dinner plate. Sea trout anglers tend to find them a nuisance because quite often they take over the sea, making it harder to target sea trout specifically.

What impresses me about this fishery is the large amount of people who take part in it. Last weekend, we spent an afternoon sitting at a popular spot in Øresund, the strait that runs between Denmark and Sweden, we found ourselves surrounded by families that were out for the same reason. Dozens of boats could also be found just outside our casting distance. A gong show, you may think, but it was in fact very orderly and enjoyable. This fishery is family-friendly due to the fact that garfish are very willing biters.

Nearby windmills, being put to work on this breezy day.

Øresund Bridge, connecting Denmark and Sweden since 2000.

Just about every fishing method works for garfish, so it comes down to what the angler’s preference. Floating a piece of herring is relaxing and suitable for kids, but it can pose a challenge on a windy day. Spinning lures can generate many bites, but quite often the hook does not penetrate through the fish’s hard beak enough so landing rate maybe low. Since I was introduced to this fishery few years ago, my preference is still flyfishing for them. Garfish do not discriminate, so even a piece of yarn on the line can entice them. There would not be a shortage of bites when stripping a size 10 orange fly just below the surface with a 4wt.

While one cannot expect reel screaming runs from garfish (after all, their average weight is less than a pound), garfish do fight reasonably well with leaps and dives mixed in between.

Today I decided that we should keep a few for eating. Danes enjoy eating garfish. They can be BBQed, pan fried. I have quickly discovered that killing these fish is a messy job. Their length is easily over half a meter long and the body diameter is no more than ten centimeters. Handling them is perhaps best described as snake handling. You grab onto their gill plates, they slap the rest of the body around. You grab onto the mid section, they slip away freely after a couple of wiggles. The line quite often wraps around their body and the hook can sometimes be hard to remove because it is so embedded into the hard beak. When the job of untangling, unhooking, dispatching was done, I was completely covered in scales, slime and the oily fish smell that I used to find when targeting pelagic species in Australia.

That being said, this is definitely a light tackle fishery that I wouldn’t mind putting up with for a few weeks per year. I think that I will go down to the beach and enjoy it a bit more tomorrow.

You may have noticed that there have been less activities on the website so far this month. The reason being that I am once again back in Denmark. The colours of Danish spring are much more vibrant than its grey winter. Here are some photographs that I wish to share with you.

The flight over, on Lufthansa’s 340-600 again, which are finally installed with PTVs so the flight seemed extremely short for once. Interesting landing, so hard that two of the compartments opened up two rows ahead of me and one smarty decided to unbuckle and stand up just a couple of seconds after the front wheel touched down so he could close them. Well, I guess someone forgot that the airplane was going from 200kph to under 100kph in a few seconds. He tumbled and rolled forward in no time. Luckily no serious injuries, except perhaps a few bruises and embarrassment. The seat belt sign is there for a reason after all.

I’ve become rather paranoid about my luggages so I stood and watched to make sure they were loaded. All ten rods made it without damages.

Sunrise. Our place is just a few hundred meters from the east coast so the view is pretty nice at 5:00am.

Downtown Copenhagen again… This photo would look better with lots of pedestrians in front of me I think. Normally the area in front of me is just packed, but I guess that I must stink or something, they all decided to take the longer route when I crouched down to take a photo like a typical Asian tourist.

Spring time means street performers.

You don’t really have to get too far out of Copenhagen to see big fields. This is the area where Nina grew up in, probably about 20 minutes drive out of Downtown Copenhagen.

Another field shot…

More field shot… plus local resident…

Close-up of local resident…

There are many little harbour/fishing villages along the coast here, which are really relaxing to walk around. The pedestrian streets are narrow and every corner is worth exploring. The houses are a couple of hundred years old. The exterior retains its historic look while the interior is completely modernized, making these some of the most expensive properties in the country. This particular village is just a short drive from our place.

Here are some bird photographs that I took while walking around the harbour.

These blackheaded gulls lose the black head in the winter. A few months ago I took a photo of them too in this blog entry.

Four hook-ups in one winter outing could be called a successful beach sea trout day. Finally it seemed like some progress after last Friday’s outing. Hoping to sustain some of that luck, I decided to have a beach marathon this week. From Monday until today, I tackled several spots on the west coast of Sjælland from dawn to dusk. Some beautiful waters were covered, but unfortunately the catching part was back to square one. The only action that I witnessed was a school of chasers that swirled in front of me today, at the exact same spot where I caught some followers back in December. Unlike that outing, these fish never came back for a second glance of my fly.

Today’s trip ended this winter sea trout hunt. Statistically, the catching and landing numbers have not been overly impressive.

• In total, just over 70 hours of beach fishing were done (these exclude the hours spent in the harbour and sloughs where five bigger post spawning fish were caught).
• 10 different beaches were fished, each averaged around 2km long.
• Out of 14 trips, fish were hooked in five of them.
• 10 fish were hooked, only 2 were landed.
• 7 fish were hooked on lures, 3 fish were hooked on flies.

Although extremely frustrating at times, these trips have been valuable lessons. Local knowledge plays a key factor in this unique fishery. The assistance of several friends and constant studying of maps, waters, wind directions yielded a few hook-ups, which are now good references for trips in the future.

Here are some photographic shots that were captured this week.

Sunrise from Klintebjerg, Northwestern Sjælland.

Up and down the misty beach. On a calm morning, the coast of Denmark is often blanked by thick marine fog. It is so thick at times that you would have trouble seeing where you are casting.

Getting ready for the cast.

Typical sea trout worthy coastline has a hilly background, with a mix of small pebbles, large boulders and algae bed.

Finishing the last trip with a breathtaking dusk setting.

Tuesday’s trip had frozen rocks, leaky waders and a lack of fish slowing my pace down. Dealing with frozen guides, slippery shoreline and numb fingers cut the number of casts by half.

 

Just when this winter’s sea trout hunt seemed to be over, the daytime temperature boosted up to 5°C today. With the sun shining and wind blowing moderately from the west, it could just be a banner day for sea trout on the Danish Coast. I decided to visit the Stevns region and tempt my sea trout luck once again.

I decided to explore a new spot near the chalk pit of Holtug (Holtug Kridbrud). The coastline of Stevns is made of both limestone and chalk around 65 million years ago. Chalk makes up the bottom part of the cliff while limestone makes up the top section. Because the soft chalk is slowly being washed away by waves while the hard limestone remains standing, cliff collapses often occur, especially after a heavy rainfall. Old mining pits for chalk and limestone can be found along the coastline, which are used as recreational sites today.

I arrived on the beach at 10:30am. Early start does not seem to be necessary, so far all the fish that I encountered have been in the afternoon. Several anglers were already working hard on the beach. Soon after I started fishing, one of them had a fish on. It was a small one, but a keeper. A few minutes later, the same angler hooked up again. The catch appeared to be much larger, as it took well over 5 minutes to bring to the net. A fat silver fish it was, looked to be over 4lb. Perhaps it was the location, because he and his friend were quite stationary during their entire trip. Nevertheless, the sea is big, the fish can be anywhere, so I thought.

I decided to take a walk and seek for other reefs. Perhaps they would hold some undisturbed fish if no one had fished them. Sometimes exploration pays off, sometimes it does not. In this case, I could not find waters that appear to be desirable for fish to hide in. I made my way back to the starting point after trekking for an hour, hoping to find a bite before I ran out of time. Daylight only lasts until 4:00pm on these winter days.

Somehow water gradually became murkier, which was not that unusual considering how much stirring takes place by the waves when it is windy. I worked across the beach systematically by taking a few steps after each cast. At one point, while staring at the lure as it approached me, I spotted a rather large sea trout darting out from the murky water but darted away as soon as it saw me. Instead of swimming away, it turned around and headed for the lure for a couple more seconds before disappearing. I estimated it to be 4 or 5lb. Maybe the retrieve was once again too fast? Even though there wasn’t a hook-up, the sighting certainly boosted up my confidence.

More anglers arrived in the afternoon. I counted ten, which was the most I’ve seen during my beach outings in Denmark. One angler decided to start working at a spot just 100ft away from me. I watched with disbelief as he hooked up on his first cast. It was a small keeper. Several casts later, he was once again into another fish. This time it was slightly bigger. Three more fish were landed nearby in the next hour or so. The bite appeared to be on, just not on my line!

The bites were quite localized, all coming from the same reef. Thankfully, several anglers packed up around 3:00pm, leaving an opening for me to sneak in. Within a few casts, I felt a tug but it did not stick. I continued reeling and expected it to return. A fish was on the line a few seconds later.

Understanding sea trout is indeed a frustrating process. It is almost impossible to entice a bite most of the time, but they can be tricked to take a lure or fly again and again on the same cast when feeding is vigorous. The second challenge is to make the hook stick when there is a bite. Although they are aggressive feeders, they seem to bite lightly. Bill and I had this discussion a couple of weeks ago. We both agreed that the bites should be defined as pecks. Most of the time it feels like a bump on the reef. Combining this element of surprise and cold winter days results in poor hook-sets if one’s not paying attention. It is certainly true in my case, as I had lost four sea trout in a row since Christmas.

This fish made a few rolls on the surface and came in rather quickly. It was not very big, around the same size as the other keepers that I saw earlier. It must be from the same school. I brought it into the shallows and had a good look at it without wetting my hands. While deciding whether I should keep it or not, it dislodged the hook on its own and swam away quickly.

The second hook-up came just several feet from shore soon after that. Like many other close hook-ups, the fish freed itself after a second and sent the lure flying back to my face. I immediately made another cast and hooked another fish just seconds after I started retrieving. A school of feeders was obviously milling around in front of me.

Once again, it made a few surface rolls before giving itself up in the shallows. It was a 17 incher at its prime shape. I decided to keep this fish for supper. Sea trout at this size is perfect as a meal for two people. At last, the losing streak ended and a long sigh of relief could be let out.

I quickly resumed fishing because darkness was creeping in. I decided to take a walk back to the spot where I sighted the large follower. It only took a few more casts before another fish was hooked. This time I managed to keep it on long enough before it leaped and spit out the hook. It was time to end the outing.

Although the landing ratio was nothing to brag about, today’s outing could be defined as a successful one in my journal considering that I do not even see a fish on most winter trips. Now that fish finding has been improved, it is time to work on the hook sticking.

It is dinner time!

In the last several weeks, while friends back in Vancouver have been battling with heavy snowfalls and unbearably cold temperatures, I have been enjoying “milder” weather in Denmark. At last, the temperature has dipped as expected. The daytime temperature is still quite high, around -5C, but strong wind always makes it feel much colder. Today’s outing tapered off with both frozen/numb feet and hands, which made the fishless day even harder to swallow.