Plan A today was to head to Germany to fish the river for the first time this year. I had hoped that the wind would die down today but I still could hear the wind howling this morning.
I opted to go for plan B which was fishing the harbor in the town I work. Main target was perch so I took my 4-weight superfine rod plus some small zonker streamers with me.
My usual good spots where pretty useless today, the strong wind had kicked up so much silt that visibility was minimal. I received not a single hit on the fly as I probed the walls and docks of the harbor. As a last ditch effort I tried the dead end stretch at the courthouse.
When I tossed a streamer near a bridge I saw fish following so my hopes where up. After a while I began to catch the perch, the majority very small but there where also some nice one among them. Not bad for a day with rotten weather.
Another bright sunny day in Rhode Island. As I put my rod together at the car park near the dunes I heard an ugly sound as I pulled the leader through the rings. El crudo had just broken the rod tip, bummer. That was quite a stupid thing to do so I totaled my beloved T3 before I even fished with it. All that lasted was to go back to the house and get the replacement rod.
Back at the beach I fished the boulder field and for a short while I was in contact with a rather fish that threw the hook. The rest of the day remained fishless. When I returned near dusk at the house I saw to my surprise that two cars pulled in the driveway of the house I was staying in.
Double booked ? nah that would be impossible. The occupants of the cars got out and they actually knew my name, how odd. It turned out that they where relatives of the people where I had rented the lower part of the house from, they would be my upstairs neighbors for the coming days.
That they came at this day had off course to do with the upcoming Columbus day which is off course totally unknown in Europe. Off course I could not refrain from stating that Leifur Eiríksson had discovered the new world.
October 10th.
Another bright sunny day for the Striper patrol. At the start of the boulder field I actually spotted a few Menhaden in the surf so surely predators had to be close by. But no, the predators where probably elsewhere.
When I moved from the beach to the pond the wind was so strong that for the first time I saw waves in the pond. The tide was still high but I tried to reach the channel anyway. The high water and waves caused trouble as my stripping basket was filling up all the time. At the Northern shore of the pond I saw diving gulls and cormorants so there was something going in. I waiting in vain for schools of fish to head into the main channel, skunked again.
October 11th.
Since the freshwater outing of the day before was so successful I decided to give the beach another try. On the beach I talked to fellow anglers who had caught Stripers early in the morning.
I made my way up to the mouth of the breachway and talked to a couple from New Hampshire who told me that they had spotted lots of bait inside the breachway. They had just caught two Striper from that spot so I headed straight to the breachway.
When I arrived at the spot no other anglers where to be seen, only a few people on the other side of the breachway where waiting for outgoing tide. I saw the baitfish and launched the fly into the incoming current, after two casts I was into a Striper A few casts later I was in to a second fish that came off.
That whole Striper thing did not work out as I had hoped for since the main actors decided to stay away. It was time to put plan B into action. I had not bought a freshwater license for nothing.
For plan B I had purchased an Orvis 5-weight rod from my dealer in Maine where it was on sale. From home I had took a small reel and some freshwater streamers with me. The target for today was a large freshwater pond close to the house I was staying at. I packed my gear, took the bike and traversed the highway to get onto the park road.
It did not take long before I passed the main gate and pedaled along the camping grounds to find a road to the pond.
I followed one of the streets and landed amidst a bunch of RV’s at the shores of the pond. It was Columbus day so the area was packed with Campers and their loud offspring. As so often watched the locals with amazement, my outdoors experience surely did not include sitting outside your large RV watching TV with a big generator running. Well everybody its own I guess.
I found a free spot in between two RV’s, got into my waders and soon fished in the clear water of the pond and enjoyed thoroughly the spectacular fall colors of the trees. The bottom of the pond consisted of white sand, it was fall but there where still traces of reeds and water lilies to be seen.
The kids from the RV next door where also fishing but not very successful. I had more luck as I soon caught a little Chain pickerel on the streamer. My success was not unnoticed as I heard the kids mumble “that guy has a fish”. A second cast yielded another Chain pickerel, looked like Pike in the USA moved about in the same environment as in Europe.
Actually I had expected to catch Sunfish or Bass instead of Chain Pickerel. The next fish species turned out to be a Yellow perch, the US counterpart of our Perch. The whole racked behind me got to much after a while so I waded out to a spot where some large boulders where lying in the water.
The shoreline behind those boulders was RV-free so silence at last. The Ospreys where circling above me, the Canadian geese where floating on the pond and all I could see was water and fall foliage. When I came near the boulders I noticed a large pipe running into the pond.
I thought “sewer pipe” but it turned out to be a connection for the fire brigade to pump out water. A cast along that pipe yielded a hefty strike and after a good fight I could land my largest Chain pickerel so far. At the boulders I lost one larger fish in the reeds.
I was surprised by the absence of baitfish, I had expected to see some kind of roach or minnows in the pond but they where not to be seen. Further out in the lake the bottom changed to stone and fish where not to be found anymore. I headed back to the big boulders and fished the likely spots once again to only catch a small version of a Bass.
This freshwater exercise yielded 15 Yellow perch, 2 Chain pickerel and a small Bass. This was a welcome change to being skunked at the beach and not bad considering I had never fished a pond like this, I would surely be back.
On the way back from the park I pedaled down hill, a Stop sign marked the entry to the main road that eventually led to the highway. As I rode down the hill and wanted to break for the stop sign I noticed that the breaks where not working. So I shot on to the main road, I was lucky that there was no oncoming traffic. If I could not fix the breaks than maybe it would be wiser to walk down the road next time.
October 12th.
Since the freshwater outing of the day before was so successful I decided to give the beach another try. On the beach I talked to fellow anglers who had caught Stripers early in the morning.
I made my way up to the mouth of the breachway and talked to a couple from New Hampshire who told me that they had spotted lots of bait inside the breachway. They had just caught two Striper from that spot so I headed straight to the breachway.
When I arrived at the spot no other anglers where to be seen, only a few people on the other side of the breachway where waiting for outgoing tide. I saw the baitfish and launched the fly into the incoming current, after two casts I was into a Striper. A few casts later I was in to a second fish that came off.
At outgoing tide the baitfish and the Stripers where gone.
Out of the woodwork the local anglers appeared and started tossing large plugs at the ocean side of the breachway (with no results). I headed for the pond where I spotted gulls and cormorants working bait in one of the corners. The action was far away but I still tried to wade to the spot.
As I was halfway a boater also spotted the action and ran full speed in the same direction. As he approached the action died down immediately, bummer. The boater disappeared pretty soon, I waited to see if the baitfish group would reassemble.
After half an hour the racket started anew but this time into the marsh. I followed quite a while but it all went wrong when I came into the entrance of the marsh ponds. Suddenly the bottom under me went away and I sank into the mud. With some difficulty I managed to stay afloat and reach hard soil again, a close call.
Well I learned the hard way that you have to take care in the marsh. It was already dark as I walked on the beach to the house. To my surprise I could see hunting fish in the surf as the moon was out. I tried to reach the fish but the swell was just to big to safely get into the water. This was yet another moment when I regretted that I had left the spinning rod at home.
October 13th.
At first I wanted to fish the beach but then I reconsidered and choose to fish the State park instead. It was quiet on the pond as Columbus day had passed, only a few RV’s where left. There was still racket at the shore but this time caused by the Chipmunks chased each other.
In the clear water I could hook the one after the other Yellow perch, all fish where however very small so I opted to fish for Pickerel after a while.
The southern corner of the pond boasted a lot of reed which would surely be a good hideout for the Pickerel. The problem turned out to be the bottom, it was soft and towards the end I had another marsh experience = I sank in quite deep.
I moved back to the safer areas and managed to catch a few more Yellow perch and a Pickerel. Since I had to do some shopping I stayed not too long at the pond.
October 14th.
Once again I hit the beach, my fellow American anglers report no fish in sight. The weather forecast predicted that the first fall storm would make it’s way to the shore I was on. There was nothing going on at the Breachway war but the skies darkened and wind and waves grew stronger by the minute
Fishing the fly was almost impossible, with some trouble I managed to launch the fly between the rocks. Even though the last stretch of beach to the breachway looked very fishy I could not feel any takes or see signs of Stripers or Bluefish. I climbed on one of the big rock ledges and made a few casts but the breaking waves looked dangerous to me so decided that it might be safer to stand on the beach instead.
There where not many anglers about since the storm was coming. I did have a talk with one of the homeowners and asked him what this private beach exactly meant. So the beach was only for use by the home owners at the beach but the tenants had no problem with anglers in the off season.
In summertime residents would sometimes call in the police to break up the underage drinking party’s at the beach. When the cops would chase the kids the person I spoke to would confiscate the booze, good move.. As to the subject of Stripers, you did need a good portion of luck to catch them.
This season was probably not so good although people still where catching fish on some of the days. When I walked back to the beach the Atlantic once again was in washing machine mode, foam and waves. A few guys where still chugging plugs in the surf but I could not spot anyone hooking up.
From my first Striper trip I knew however that even in a big storm Stripers would be feeding so being out there made sense.
October 15th.
This was the last day that I would be able to fish. It was pretty stormy during the night and even in the morning a strong wind was blowing. According to the weather forecast the next few days would be stormy. To spend the last day on the beach seemed like a waste of time. The strong westerly wind would also exclude fishing in the pond.
After I had did some last shopping I decided I would give the pond at the State park another go. The pond looked like I would expect it in fall, the Camping folk had all gone. The sky was grey and the wind produced whitecaps on the water.
The wave action had stirred up the water so clarity was diminished, it took some effort to launch the fly and line against the wind. Fish where still present because pretty soon I landed my first couple of yellow perch and pickerel.
On the previous outings my Favorite fly had been a small zonker streamer, on this day it was time to try something completely different. I tied on one of my Enrico Puglisi Streamer on, maybe these big ties where the ticket in the slightly murky waters. I soon found out that the Chain pickerel where pretty interested in the big flies as one after the other aggressively pursued and attacked the fly.
Numerous fish where caught and I also got a first hand indication what kind of baitfish would be present in the pond. One of the larger chain pickerel spat out it’s breakfast in the form of a baitfish. This baitfish was a shad, I was pretty surprised since back home shad are exclusively a marine species with the exception of spawning time.
After a few hours in the chilly full wind I decided I had caught enough fish at the pond. Since I still had to sort out and pack my gear for the trip back home I decided to call it a day.
October 16th.
It was time for the trip back home, the train to Boston arrived as scheduled. This time I had booked a business Class seat, some luxury was nice on such a long trip. As I traveled to the east I enjoyed for the last time the pretty fall colors of the forest in Rhode Island and Massachusetts. At every crossing of a river or creek I wondered what fish I could have caught there.
The flight from Boston to Iceland was pretty uneventful. At the stopover in Reykjavik I once again made a stop at the concession stand for some snack and once again the lady behind the counter returned change in Icelandic Crones. Currency worthless except for the fact that these coins boasted fish on them making them souvenirs. As soon as the plane touched down in Amsterdam everything was business as usual.
So that where my two weeks down in Rhode Island. The whole striper fishery did not go the way as I had hoped or planned. 22 Stripers was what I counted with no big fish among them. At least I caught some fish and the whole freshwater business made up for lacking results in the salt Without hesitation I would say that I surely will end up in Rhode Island again.
As usual the wind was blowing full force on the beach making flyfishing not an worthwhile option. I tried to fish the rocks but after a while I figured I could better try the breachway and pond. I waded out far into the pond and fished the channel with a pink snakefly. As the wind was also blowing across the pond I switch to a sinking line to make at least a decent length cast into the wind. When I reached the first channel mark I got a hit on the fly and could land my first Striper of the day. At outgoing tide I got bite after bite, from all these takes I could land seven Stripers. At incoming tide the whole action was over, it was sunset already so I called it a day.
Oktober 8th.
On this morning the sky was cloudless and the sun was shining bright. To bad there where no baitfish on the beach or gulls working fish. I crawled through the boulder field and caught a small Striper, at least no skunk today.
The beach was dead so I headed to the saltwater pond where I talked to two local flyfisherman. I wanted to know how they regarded the season and the answer was as expected “slow”.
I explored the pond this time to the full extent en reached the far corner where the mix of sand and broken shells changed into a bottom with clumps of seaweed. I had expected fish in the far corner but it stayed quiet, when I headed back the local flyfishers had already left for greener pastures.
On the way back I fished the channel again with the sinking line and the pink snakefly. Halfway to shore I got a hit from something, it sure was no Striper. That something turned out to be a Needlefish, pretty amazing. Even more curious was the way I had caught that Needlefish since its beak was to small to grab the large hook of the snakefly. The Needlefish had actually chased the snakefly and got entangled in the leader with its many sharp teeth.
Besides the Needlefish no life signs where seen in the pond. When I turned on to the beach I got sandblasted, still strong wind. From fellow anglers I learned that gulls had been working bait for a time but that was well offshore.
I remembered that I had to finish a report on my Rhode Island trip last fall. That trip was made possible due to involvement by Jeremy Cameron of Flies and Fins.
October 1st.
My destination for my vacation would have been Florida but the oil disaster in the Gulf of Mexico made be change my plans. At work my boss once again tried to block my time off with as reason that I would be “indispensable“, off course complete nonsense otherwise I would have had better pay ages ago.
Two weeks was the maximum time I could get for a trip in October, too short but it had to do. So I pondered about an alternative destination and the Caribbean was the first thing on my mind, further exploration of that part of the world made it clear that it would be too expensive in my book.
Stripers came to mind, my first Striper trip went pretty well and I always had the urge to try it again. I turned to one of my friends and asked him if he had some tips for an affordable trip. Well it turned out he had, his parents had an apartment for rent in a coastal Rhode Island town. The place was located near the beach and a saltwater pond, freshwater opportunities where available.
I contacted the parents and arranged that I could rent the apartment for the first two weeks of October. Next I completed my travel arrangements, with Iceland air I would travel from Amsterdam to Reykjavik where I would change planes to finally arrive in Boston, Massachusetts. From Boston I would take the Amtrak train to Rhode Island.
The whole planning and arranging went pretty well until I received a mail from my landlords that they would not be present at the apartment when I would arrive since they had to travel out of state. I immediately replied back with the question who would be available at the apartment to open the door but I got no reply.
It seemed like my plans where about to be derailed so just in case I wrote down addresses of hotels in the area for the worst case scenario. At the stopover in Iceland I tried to get some clarity about my lodging in the US so I send a text message to my acquaintance for instructions. I was happy when I got a message back that the doors of the apartment would be unlocked. My travel could continue unhindered after this message.
In Boston I got through Immigration and customs quickly and got a cab to Boston South Station. Train tickets where pulled out of the ticket machine at the station and off it was on the northeastern regional to Rhode island. 90 minutes later I arrived close to midnight at Westerly train station on the RI/CT border.
The next hurdle would be to get a cab in this little town late in the evening. To my surprise it did not take long before a cab arrived, what made me wonder was that the cab had no navigation fitted. I had planned for this and had printed a map of the area where my apartment would be located. The road to the beach was easy and known to the driver but that side road was obscured by the darkness. After driving around with no clues for a while the cabby produced his own navigation system.
We finally found the street where my rental would be at but we could not find the house number. I had seen the house two years prior but that was in broad daylight. After running the street a few times up and down I spotted a boat in one of the yards that looked familiar.
I told the cabby to stop and said that the door should be open so I had to check it out. I walked towards the door and indeed it was unlocked. The last thing I wanted to do was to surprise a gun toting homeowner or get a welcome by a Pitbull . I rang the doorbell but nothing happened.
I had ordered fishing gear and had it send to this place and I was told I could find it on the kitchen table. The only way to find out if this was the right house would be to locate my gear. I yelled ” hello” just in case and entered the building. Luckily I found my fishing gear and not the Pitbull or an armed homeowner. By now I was 20 hours on the road, the only energy I had left was for a quick shower and went to sleep .
Oktober 2nd.
After a long sleep the first thing I did was to check out the apartment, I was not disappointed. After some shopping I at the convenience store of the nearby garage store I checked out the beach. A stalled tropical wave in advance of my travel had messed it up, with wave heights predicted to be “shoulder high” I knew that flyfishing the beach would probably not be possible.
My best chance would probably be the saltwater pond but first I had to find my way to it. Two years ago I fished the pond but than I was the southern end so this area I was new to me. I figured walking westward on the beach would get me to the breachway and then to the pond.
I noticed a path between the big houses on the beach I figured that it was a public access. I followed the path and finally ended up on a road that looked familiar to me. The road was the same I took two years ago on the way to the boat ramp at the pond.
I followed the road and ended up at the pond, a large sandy flat that looked ideal for wading. The water was very clear, a small channel than ran along the flats was clearly visible. I fished the channel at high tide and waded quite a bit into the pond, no fish though. There where a few other fisherman around on kayak, ideal for getting around in the pond.
At sunset I called it a day, as I walked to shore I came across the guys that had fished from the kayaks. They had indeed gotten into fish, a kayak was a nice thing to own. At sunset I headed back to the apartment. There where no telltale signs of fish at the beach, I only encountered a dead bluefish laying on the sand.
At the house I noticed that the felt soles of my wading shoes where about to part with the rest of the shoes, I had an idea they would not last that long anymore. The first fishing day … fishless.
October 3rd.
The weather forecast was not something that got me excited with the wave height listed as “head high”. The strong westerly winds made flyfishing impossible so I decided to stay in and get the apartment sorted and organize some food. The gas station up the road boasted it’s own deli which provided me with some good sandwiches. With a campground nearby all the basic canned foods and assorted items where available. Stocked up with supplies and headed back for that o so important cup of coffee.
October 4th.
Another day with weather that was not for my liking, lots of rain and strong westerly winds made flyfishing impossible. Now I regretted leaving the spinning rod at home, that was the punishment for being a purist. Since I did not came all the way over the big pond to stare at the water I headed to the beach anyway to see that the ocean was in washing machine mode again, foam and waves and no anglers to be seen.
There was however always the breachway and the channel that connected the ocean with the saltwater pond in the interior. I did manage to chuck a white deceiver in the main channel, at least I was fishing. After half an hour I finally got a hit on the fly and could hook and land a small Striper of about 50cm. If there was one Striper than there had to be more but unfortunately I did not get into any other fish. As the wind grew stronger and the temperature started to plummet I decided to call it a day.
October 5th.
The bad weather continued so I headed right for the pond. Since floating line and streamers did not yield anything I decided to switch to a fast sinker and fished a floating crease fly.
The change helped as I did get something, to bad it where just bluecrabs. Stripers and Bluefish remained an illusion and so I had another skunk day.
October 6th.
Pounded by rain I headed to the beach, waves where now low enough for fishing the beach. In the boulder area at the beach I spotted baitfish in the wash so hopes where up.
At one spot the show really started as I got a hit on the fly at every cast. After a few hours I had hooked and landed twelve Stripers. One of my felt soles had suddenly departed from the wading boot. This meant I could no longer safely traverse rocks.
I had to cut my trip short in order to get new wading boots asap. Back at the house I texted my Orvis dealer in Maine “Need wading boots , tomorrow here in RI”. Quite soon I got a message back “Boots in stock, delivery tomorrow” – that was what I call service.
Today I finally had a chance again to catch my first fish for 2010. We have had cold weather here continuously since the middle of December making fishing almost impossible due to snow and ice. The weather forecast was not something to be happy about since extensive rain and an upcoming storm where announced.
Canal
The location for this day was a canal that had a slight flow due to several small streams that flowed in to it. The Canal was for the most part ice free although large sections where still covered with hard water. I noticed that the water was unusually dirty at the section of the Canal I fished. It started to pour and it did not stop for quite a while. When I had no hits at all I decided to move eastwards in search of fish and cleaner water. In the end I found a point where a small stream dumped clean water into the canal. Confidence came back because these conditions where normal for this particular water.
This canal was used for shipping way back when but was now more or less a derelict body of water. Some of the locks and bridges where still in place but many where also replaced by big culverts. Those sections where interesting because baitfish and thus predators would usually be concentrated there. At such a culvert my EP streamer was intercepted and my first fish of the year was a fact, it Was a little pike.
The guys from the fishing club had planned a trip to the Eifel region, basically the part of Germany that is adjacent to the Belgian Ardennes area. Since I already had a few fishing trips on my sleeve and a upcoming trip to Rhode Island planned I declined the offer to join them.
It looked like it would get busy at work so I did not take the chance to ask for more time off. When I discovered that it would be quiet at work for some time I decided at the last minute to join the trip.
The first destination would be the Rur river at the village of Blens. Two of our party had already fished there last year during the summer and had good results. Since the hotel was full we got the rental house on the other side of the street which was nice.
The first day of our trip was purely a travel day, after 3,5 hours we arrived at the village of Blens and off course the first thing we did was park the car and walked to the bridge over the river to see if we could spot any rising fish.
We did not stop at the hotel though but ran straight to the end of the stretch we where allowed to fish. Halfway at that spot the river would make a s-curve, at that curve there was a deep hole.
A cross at the roadside was placed in remembrance of an unlucky soul who died there due to an accident in 1881. Lokal folklore stated that the man in question in was drunk at the time and ran his horse drawn carriage right in that deep hole to be never found again.
A nice tall story although the divers of the local fire department estimated that the hole would be 40 meters / 120 feet deep, enough to swallow man and horse I guess.
“Pray for the soul of the Joseph Kühl ,born on the 4th. Of Mai 1881, who crashed here on the 13th. Of July 1881. Watch and pray because death will come to you at an hour you do not suspect.”
After our little sightseeing trip we headed to the hotel and occupied our rental house. We would not fish this day, instead we went to the hotel’s restaurant for some good German food and of course some fine wheatbeers. The next morning we would visit the river well before breakfast for a short fishing session.
The part of the Rur river we would fish was located behind the Rur reservoir at Heimbach. This meant clear water with a constant temperature and a quite steady flow of 7.5 cubic meters per second according to the measuring station at the reservoir. In the early morning we headed to the river when it was still dark outside. The river looked good, mist was still hanging in the valley and over the cold water.
I had some difficulties coping with the fast flow and the wide river, not a place I was used to. What disappointed me was the total lack of visible fish, I already was told to fish into the adjacent bank but somehow I did not got a single bite. The guys who had visited this river last year had fished there with a guide and that obviously paid off since they managed to catch a few fish.
I scouted a large stretch of the river but it was to no avail, in the end I decided to join the other guys to see how they where faring.
Tom told me he had seen a rising fish near the bridge but could not get it to take his fly and suggested I might have a go at it. I decided to launch a klinkhamer dry fly at the spot mentioned and behold after a few drifts a trout sticked it’s head above the surface and took the fly.
Luckily skunk was avoided, the brown trout was a pretty specimen with a nice dark brown coloration. When we left for breakfast Tom had six fish, Alfons five and Joop and I both one fish.
According to the other guys the water was slightly higher than usual but not extremely high. We settled in the restaurant of the hotel for breakfast and would visit the stream later in the morning.
The afternoon session was tough, we fished downstream from the bridge and had a hard time getting into the water because of the steep banks. I could not get a single hit on the fly even though I fished a lot of places that would have to hold the one or the other fish in my book. The other guys did not fare well better and I must confess that I felt a bit disappointed that a water with such a heavy price tag for a permit would not yield more fish.
The icing on the cake came when my wading staff decided to lead a life on its own. The staff was new and came with a warning in the manual that some people had lost their staff due to a faulty connection on the line that secured the staff to the holster. Off course I checked that connection as suggested in the manual but it still came loose and so I stood there in the full current without my wading staff. I had to think quick to avoid a swim in the cold water and made my way to the bank, picked up a suitable wooden stick and secured it to a line.
I made my way downstream until I was at the S-curve where Joseph Kühl plunged to his death in 1881. I found that close to that abyss there was a rock ledge where you could walk on. I crawled along the willows of the bank and positioned myself on rock ledge so I could reach that single rising fish that was located near an otherwise unreachable deadfall. I did get a good shot at the fish and voila, the fish took the fly.
The problem was that the fish was rather small in my book, I tried for some bigger trout but could not find them. While fishing Joop radioed in that the water levels had risen quickly, we also noticed that a lots of debris where floating by. When I met the other guys at the river we decided to take a break and go for dinner to the restaurant.
We told the story of the increased flows at the hotel’s owner who stated that the people at the reservoir would inform him on time if they would release water. So a call went out to the reservoir, and indeed extra water was released “turbine cleaning“ so they told us.
We where directed to a second spot by the hotel owner that would surely yield fish in the evening so after dinner we headed way upstream. The water was still running high though and the fish where nowhere to be seen. In a last ditch effort we headed back to the abyss after sunset in the hope of catching more fish. Only Tom managed to get more as he spotted some rising fish in a spot that was difficult to reach.
When it was to dark to see the fly we called it quits. We retreated to our rental place and discussed the plans for the next day. There was an option to fish a second day on the Rur river but with these results and the hefty permit price we skipped that option. Calls where made to our plan B spot at the Kyll river in Kyllburg where we would rent a cabin on the local camping.
Another spring trip to Denmark has ended. My fear of going home skunked did not materialize although in my opinion the fishing was very tough. The long cold winter in Europe had surely left its mark on nature as the Baltic sea was still cold and life in the sea was only slowly developing.
On April 22nd we left the Netherlands at 06.00 hrs to make the journey to the island of Fyn in Denmark. We cleared main bottleneck on our route (the Elbe river tunnel in Hamburg)pretty easy with just some slow traffic at the outgoing side of the tunnel. The rest of the tour through Southern Jutland and on to the Island was pretty uneventful. Instead of making a fishing stop along the way we decided to pick up the keys of our rental cottage and have something to eat first.
The cottage, a very luxury place this time. Rain and hail showers in the distance. My setup, Orvis T3 6-weight plus a clear intermediate line.
After settling in we headed to the beach to try and get our first fish. It was windy, chilly and sometimes rain and hail blasted us. From the six guys on the trip only Tom caught fish, two searun browns from whom the largest measured 57 cm. I ended up with two takes but could not materialize the fish. I developed cold feet near sunset, after returning to the cottage I noticed that my waders where leaking. Not pleasant in cold water conditions.
On the 23rd we would hit Odense Fjord on the northern shore of Fyn. Since Odense boasted a very nice tackle shop we went there first so I could get a pair of waders to continue my fishing spree with more or less dry feet. Since tackle was expensive in Denmark I asked for the cheap stuff and by chance they had bough a container load of waders from a well known English manufacturer. The two layer fabric did not boast my confidence but I figured it would last at least the remainder of this trip. At the shop we asked for some tips and with the intel we got we decided to change our plans and head for the southern coast.
The southern coast and my first couple of seatrout.
There was a stiff breeze blowing at the southern shores but still manageable to fish my 6-weight rod. After a long wait I was finally rewarded with my first seatrout of the trip, a 47 cm specimen caught on a pink ep sparkle shrimp. In short order I managed to land two more fish, respectively 55 and 45cm all on the pink shrimp pattern.
On day three some of the guys wanted to fish a freshwater river on mainland Jutland. It was way to early to go there and this was after all a saltwater fishing trip. The infidels left for the Omme A river, the diehards went to fish the Little Belt sound. Due to the cold weather the seagrass field had not developed yet so large parts of the place where barren and void of life.
The Little Belt sound.
Marsvin aka harbor porpoise in the distance.
At the Little Belt.
We concentrated on a boulder field and spotted schools of sandeels running out with the tide. Trout where actively hunting on the outer side of the boulder reef but where out of casting Range. I was lucky enough to get a stray fish that hunted over the boulders. The fish was yet again caught on a pink shrimp pattern and put up a pretty good fisht. The fish measured 52 cm and was my fourth fish of the trip. One of my buddies decided to switch to the dark side and headed up the cliff to get his spinning rod in order to reach the far away trout. When he came back the trout where gone but he also managed one smaller searun trout.
On the last day we had breakfast and cleaned out the cottage first. After delivering the keys of the cottage we fished the local beach until 15.30 hours. One of us managed to catch one smaller fish on a ragworm fly. The rest of the guys Blanked. I did have two fish chase a brown shrimp made with EP shrimp brush but they did not take the hook solidly and escaped.
Getting ready to go home.
We left around 16.00 hours on our 6 hour returned trip to the Netherlands. It was fun as usual but tough fishing in the chilly and windy conditions. I once again left as the guy with the most fish, four to be exactly due to pure luck and persistence, Tom had the Largest trout of the trip nd ended with three fish. Joop en Alfons both avoided skunk by catching one fish, Hans and Wiebe blanked. I had tons of fun though I look forward to another trip to the Baltic coast.
Went out for a late afternoon session on yet another chilly day almost in the middle of May. I was pretty soon into a fish which I suspected was a brook trout due to its tendency to fight deep. Lost contact with the fish and headed downstream where I got lot’s of bites but could not make them stick. After sunset I was fearing skunk but fishing a streamer weighted with a split shot upstream brought me my first brook trout of the season and a bonus rainbow trout.
Fishing was good the day before but one of the members of our party had a serious mishap, he lost his full box of flies when he left the river late in the evening. A search party in the dark yielded no flybox so it was decided that we would return to the upstream section for a second time. After breakfast we headed back, my buddies sent me off to fish while they backtracked to find the flybox.
En route to one of the pools near the reservoir.
The stream was still running high but this time the water was a little clearer. The pool where I did so good the day before still produced fish.
Roach Grayling.
Allthough fishing was good I noticed that it was not as productive as the day before so I went upstream in search of more fish. I eventually ended up at a nice pool where I caught a row of small brown trout.
Brown trout.
Wondering what the fish ate I turned over some stones and saw creepers and other stuff scurry away. Curious as I was I took a caddis nymph out of its case evergreen needles to its coloration.
Caddis nymph.
Well I figured my nymphs had the same size and looked like the real deal so I would probably fare well. The pool I fished was not very deep but deep enough to hold many fish.
The pool.
At the front of the pool the water was deeper, I took quite a few trout and grayling from the fast flowing water.
More fish.
In the afternoon one of my buddies called that it was time to get a grab to eat. The good news was that the lost flybox was retrieved intact. Not so good was that they had parked the car at another carpark. I got the tip to proceed on the mountain path to get to carpark, as I went higher and higher I had the feeling I would get lost big time.
On the mountain path.
The path went uphill all the way until I came into a small village where a small unpaved road winded through little old houses. I expected banjo playing any minute now, the locals looked … well you get the picture. From high in the village I saw the car down at the river, I was pretty quick off that mountain. We took an extend break at our favourite restaurant and pondered where to go next. The evening session would take place at the river below the reservoir.
In the second half of the day the weather began to change. Suddenly the clouds came low, visibility and temperature came down. That evening rise would was surely not going to happen now.
The first pool
The first pool yielded fish right away, it had always been a good spot for me. What amazed me was the current width of the river, I had never seen it so wide. When I walked down stream I found that flooding in spring had totally reshaped the river bed. I could hardly catch a fish there so I doubled back and travelled upstream instead. The upstream part looked good though. At one of the pools I finally hooked a large trout.
The big one ….
The fish I had just hooked put a deep bend in the rod, when the fish surfaced I could see it was a very chunky brown dark in coloration. Then the fish did something unexpected, instead of swimming upstream it went downstream and rolled in the surface. When the fish rolled the barbless hook came out, bummer …. catching a big fish down there was like winning the lottery.
Last action of the day.
The rest of the evening went slow. I still managed a few fish out of the fast flowing water but big fish where not around. At least I had gotten a shot at a big fish, fishing in such beautiful scenery was already a reward on its own. When I spotted my buddies coming towards me I knew it was time to get back to the hotel. We still had to reach our quota of Wheat beer so off we went to get a couple of cold ones and review the day.
After a good nights rest we enjoyed a very good breakfast at the hotel. Since it was my birthday the other guys gave me the choice where to fish on this day. I opted to fish above one of the large reservoirs that dotted the river. My goal was to a catch grayling whom where more numerous in the upper reaches of the river.
Upstream.
When we came to the river I was a bit surprised by the high brown water, clearly not a tailwater upstream. I had never seen so much water in that section so I decided to change my tactics and go Czech nymphing – basicly short nymphing with heavy weighted caddis nymphs. During the long cold winter I had obtained varies literature and DVD’s about the subject so I was prepared. My Trout bum rod with its 7ft length was too short for this type of fishing but with the colored water and heavy flow I would surely get away with it. After some practice I actually started to get the hang of it and caught my first little brown trout on a green caddis nymph. I had actually coaxed myself into tying some of my own flies, in this case caddis nymphs with tungsten beads on a Hanak B300 barbless hook. Before I knew it I even caught the grayling I was after.
Grayling
I fished several pools and riffles until I came pretty near to the part of the river where it entered the large reservoir. The banks where often completely dug out by the wild boar, from the tracks they appeared to be numerous but I never saw one. Being close to the reservoir became appearant when I started to catch shiners.
Dace Grayling Roach
At a certain moment I reached the end of the river and saw that the reservoir was pretty full. The grass on the banks was underwater.
At the end
I spotted some rising fish at the end but there where not many insects around. My first guess was brown trout, since the rising where so far inbetween I decided to probe the waters with a small streamer to see who was out there. The streamer was intercepted but not by a brown trout.
Little yellow perch
Yellow perch was not the fish I was after so I tied on an emerger and launched the fly to where I saw the last rising fish. That fly was duly taken by a fish, to my surprise a grayling.
Grayling.
In the afternoon we took an extended break at our favorite restaurant in the wilderness and then returned to the river for the rest of the fishing session.
I spend the rest of the day Czech nymphing the lower section of the stream catching loads of little brown trout, grayling and roach. It was sunny, there where a few bugs around but fish where not rising to any of the insects. Some insects where maybe a tad to large like a big beetle I saved from the floods.
Bug
More grayling
Scenery
The fish where on the small size but the catching continued throughout the day. I even caught some of the obvious stockie browns that lacked the golden coloration of the native brown strain.
Stocked brown Last fish of the day, Roach Past sunset.
We fished until last light hoping for an evening rise but that never came. On the way back I took the mountain path carefully watching my steps, you do not want to stumble over wild boars down there. We ended our day at the hotel with some more dark wheat beers until we reached our quota and called it a day. We still had to climb up the mountain to reach our quarters, sleep came quickly as it was dead quiet in the village with the only sound coming from the flowing water of the river.
