British Columbia Fishing Blog

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.

 

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.

The rain came down in buckets this morning at 7:30am but I was pretty determined to catch the morning tide after a week of brilliant fishing in the Tidal Fraser. We got out there and found the wind was just as strong as we had expected. An hour of fishing only ended with one herring that swam away freely so we packed our wet bodies up for a hot breakfast back home. Oh well, you can only catch them if you invest the time on the water right?

As if a coho salmon in the Tidal Fraser in April wasn’t odd enough.

After a week of fantastic and unpredictable fishing days, I was still very energetic because I knew this is not going to last much longer. This morning I got up for the early tide. Well, 7:00am, that is my definition of early. Mark and I went down to the river to fish the outgoing tide just after it peaked. Out of all the trips, I’ve found this type of tide seems to produce more than others. Not so today, we fished for a couple of hours and had enough of the cold wind.

Once home, I decided to visit Berry’s Bait and Tackle to stock up on flytying supplies and pick up a herring jig, just in case. After tying up some more minnow patterns, I returned to the river at 5:00pm but only to find the wind slightly stronger and colder.

Frustrated by the breeze, I fished the area for awhile before deciding to make a move to another area where I had some luck earlier in the week. The water was definitely murkier and I was anxious to find out if my size 6 fly would actually be noticed by the fish. The anxiety disappeared in no time, as I hooked up in the shallow water at where I connected with a coho salmon earlier in the week. The silver body leaped out of the water. Could it be…? It could! It was another coho salmon! In disbelief and panic, I began walking into the shallow mud bank so I could guide it in. In the meantime, the rest of the fly line had tangled around my feet. A stripping basket would surely be very handy at that time. The fish came in after a few typical coho rolls and jumps. I continued untangling myself while the fish turned to its side in the shallow water. Before I was able to clear up the mess, the fish had decided to do another dash and popped the hook off by itself. Oh well, it couldn’t be kept anyway but I would have liked to take a closer look at it.

So, visibility obviously was not an issue, confidence is regained again. A couple of swirls appeared around me as the tide peaked. Excitement filled in my head while evening walkers wandered nearby, not knowing what they were missing out of.

I worked the same spot over and over again, hoping its cousins would be just as hungry. There were no takers and it was getting dark. Finally I decided to make a cast out into the main channel, just to see what would happen. After allowing the fly to sink and the line to swing with the current for over ten seconds, I began retrieving slowly. A few strips later, I felt a light tug. A hook set was followed by a solid bend in the rod. Fish on! A silver body flashed and splashed on the surface. I could barely see it in the dim light. It rolled a couple of times and came in without much more struggle. What is it? A coho? A cutthroat? A pikeminnow? None of the above it was. I could only identified it when I picked it up. It was a herring! What a beautiful fish! Those shiny, large scales fluttered in the dark. I released it once I took a photo because I didn’t think that I would encounter more.

Taking my time, I adjusted my fly and untangled the line before making another cast back into the main channel. Another light tug soon followed and another herring was splashing on the surface again! This time I had realized that there was a school of them in front of me. I decided to keep this fish and made another cast out immediately. Ten seconds later, I was bringing in another herring. This went on for five more minutes, with five or six fish being brought in and numerous tugs missed. I kept two fish for dinner as I also enjoy eating them beside salmon and trout. It was all over in no time. Perhaps it was too dark, perhaps the school had moved on. I was left standing on the rocks, with herring scales all over my jacket and I smelled like someone who had just taken a bath in a tub of tuna oil.

Once again the Tidal Fraser River has entertained me by being unpredictable. With four species dancing at the end of my line in one week, I am currently in fishing heaven.