FJORD AVENGERS
Father and son Mark and James Slater head off for a trip to Norway
A father and son visit Norway.
Everybody who goes to Norway for a fishing holiday makes the same mistake of taking too much gear as they attempt to anticipate every eventuality. Even though it was our group’s sixth trip, we never learn, it would seem... Of course, there is always additional baggage after the necessary first stop of any trip to Norway – the duty free at Trondheim airport. Alcohol prices elsewhere in the country are prohibitively expensive, so I guess it is a regular stop-off for UK anglers after a two-hour flight from Gatwick.
With my night-time tipple in the bag, my son James and I collected our luggage, including two rod tubes, before manoeuvring the entire ensemble towards the hire vehicle office. Soon the minibus was packed from top to bottom.
The 90-minute drive from the airport through the scenic Trondheim region to Skarnsundet fish camp seemed to fly past. We were on the edge of our seats in anticipation of getting afloat and into some fish.
Upon arrival we were welcomed by Phill Dale, the camp owner, a Yorkshireman with an infectious sense of humour, who greeted us as if we were long-lost relatives. After a few bear hugs, he introduced us to his fishing guides, who lived on site.
Less than an hour later, after an induction and collecting our lifejackets, we were skimming at 20 knots across the virtually flat waters of the Trondheim fjord in two of the camp’s 19ft aluminium boats, heading for the first mark about a mile away.
The fjord is huge, the third-largest in Norway, at more than 80 miles long and over 2,000 feet at its deepest point. However, some of the best fishing marks are less than 10 minutes away by boat from the marina at the camp, so getting to the fish-holding zones is anything but a chore.
CALM AND SERENE
As we moved parallel to the shoreline for most of the journey, the low autumn sun illuminated the vast treeline in hues of bronze and gold. Apart from our whispering four-stroke engine, the rest of the fjord was eerily silent. One of the things you notice about Norway, apart from the complete lack of any litter, is how quiet it is and how dark it gets at night in autumn and winter.
The Lowrance GPS beeped and announced our arrival and, as the group’s boats came off the plane, we switched the units to sounder
mode to discover what was lurking beneath us. Immediately there were fish arches showing in the lower section of the 30m zone, together with some balls of baitfish.
It never ceases to amaze me how difficult pulling line through rod eyes can be when you know that there are fish directly beneath you, just waiting for you to cast out.
We had brought along two large, wheeled Coleman cool boxes crammed full of frozen squid, fresh black lugworms and the deadliest of all baits out in Norway – ragworms.
Virtually all boat fishing out here is undertaken on the drift. Who would, or even could, pull up an anchor from over 2,000 feet? Using light rods, 20lb braid and 6oz lead weights, out went the rag-baited rigs. Mine had not even hit the bottom when my son James shrieked out “I’m in!” as his rod bent over hard and he gleefully hung on to the butt.
A few moments later, a swipe of the net had secured our first fish of the trip, a plump codling of around 4lb. As I grabbed my camera to take a picture, I noticed an orange tail hanging out of the fish’s mouth. James had decided at the last minute to clip on a shad rather than a baited rig. The fish had smashed the lure just before it reached the bottom. The unhooked fish was returned and we continued to catch plenty more cod and haddock, the best being a rod-bending haddock of just under 6lb.
STORMY WATERS
Next day we woke up to howling winds, and for the first time in six visits the fjord was touch and go for a day afloat on the boats. With plenty
of shore marks and a travel case full of rods, we decided to take the safest option and have a day’s fishing in the lee of the wind at Straumen.
This shore mark is a short half-hour drive away from the camp, with easy parking just outside a small industrial unit. A 10-minute walk up and over the hill only serves to increase an already expectant heart rate. We could not wait to get tackled up.
Having lobbed our first black lug-baited pulley rigs out to about 75 yards, the all-too-familiar cry of “I’m in!” came from James. There is a lot of tide at Straumen because it is essentially a narrow stretch of water that joins two large fjords, and twice a day the water ebbs and floods through here at a frightening pace.
James’s rod was bent over hard while whatever was on the other end kicked and thumped and used the full force of the tide to lead him a merry dance. He had the fish almost in, but at the shoreline there is a ledge of weedy rocks. Before I could shout “Lift your rod and wind!” his line got snagged a few yards in front of him. He hung on to the rod, but the fish confirmed it was still on by bending the tip over several times. James was almost squeaking with excitement at this point. Luckily, the fish came out of the snag and he pumped and retrieved before grabbing hold of the trace. “Two on one rig dad,” he exclaimed, as he held up two plump codling, one on the main hook and the other snagged by the second hook of his Pennell.
We had a dozen or more codling in the next two hours, but the huge plaice that range between 4-9lb eluded us this time.
ON THE LURES
Back from Straumen Point, we cooked up some dinner and sat around the table discussing the fishing for the next few days. Fortunately, the weather plays very little part in the planning as the fjord is essentially sheltered from all sides. Only in the very worst weather does it become awkward to fish.
As we were looking over the full-scale chart on the wall, checking out all the shallow reefs and deeper trenches, we glanced out of the window and noticed that the water past the marina arm looked as if it was bubbling. Witching hour was approaching and daylight was starting to fade – prime time to cast a lure off the marina wall.
James and I grabbed our lure rods and we walked (well, ran, actually) the short distance from the apartment down to the concrete marina arm that projects out in the fjord. As we approached we could see that the tall streetlight on the end of the marina had fired up and was casting a yellow glow out on to the water’s surface.
Every few seconds or so, we could hear the unmistakable sound of fish jumping and saw coalfish of around 2lb or so breaking the surface. They were either chasing small baitfish or, better still, were being chased themselves. I cast out a small Dexter Wedge on my 9ft lure rod and on the first retrieve was straight into a fish that tore off and almost spooled 50 yards of 12lb braid, before the hook pulled and I was left wondering.
James was using a 7g LRF outfit and a tiny 5g paddletail lure to catch small coalfish one after the other when, suddenly, I heard James shout out “Dad, I’m really in! Help!” As I turned, I saw his rod bent double and line shooting off his reel. Whatever was on the end was going to need a net or a gaff.
In our excitement to get fishing, we had brought neither, so I advised him to play it and not to bully it until I got back as quick as I could. I trotted back to our boat mooring and grabbed a landing net, while all the time I could hear James shouting that he was now “down to his backing and his rod was making funny noises”.
When I returned, he had somehow managed to turn the fish and goad it back to the concrete arm. There at the bottom of the rocks was a large cod with a coalfish protruding from its mouth. I climbed down the weedy rocks until I was close enough to the fish and, on the second attempt, managed to net it. We pulled the coalfish out, which weighed just under 2lb and then weighed the cod, which went 9lb 8oz. It took almost four days for James to cease talking about that one.
The rest of the trip was just as eventful, with us catching double-figure coalfish on deep-diving Rapala lures trolled behind the boat, and some double-figure ling tempted on big deadbaits at the deepwater marks. We notched up 28 species in the 10 days.