CKB
Well-known member
- Joined
- Nov 12, 2020
- Messages
- 272
- Reaction score
- 1,785
- Points
- 93
- Location
- Channel Islands
- Favourite Fishing
- Shore
Continued ...
"We left him at Tromso airport, said our goodbyes, nipped to a tackle shop and headed to a public dock in the city with a deep channel opposite. It's quite the most urban place I have fished in a long time, but the fish didn't mind at all. I was catching codling down the side of the platform on the metals and soft plastics, as well as coalies. We did wonder if this could be the venue for flatties, and Jacob, the camp's guide from Sweden, found a lovely plaice 20-30 yards out. I had a go, too, with my Portsmouth Loop Rig and some ragworm that had seen better days. I did get a double shot of dabs before I got plagued with coalies. Some of us, including me, also picked up haddock unintentionally, which was great to see. Lasse was catching cod on the corner, and Nathan was winkling out a few fish. We only did six hours at the spot; none of us had a long day in us, and we needed some recovery time and a good sleep. The fresh air really knocks you out, and we had some fresh halibut to cook, and Jacob obliged as a chef in Mike's absence. Mike had done all of the cooking until that point.
Next up, we did a session in the local fjord, which provides exceptional fishing over the colder months, but was quiet for us, besides a few goalies. The following day, we couldn't fish an excellent shore spot, as the landowner was working, so we picked another spot close by with a rapid tidal rip, which screamed fish. Sadly, we barely registered a bit in about four hours, and the wind speeds were pretty crazy; tripod legs were well and truly wedged into the boulders. I was suffering from a strong bout of man-flu and really couldn't wait to get back into the digs, even though the mark screamed halibut in terms of the ground and conditions. In these fjord systems, you really never know what the wind or weather will be doing until you turn up; it's very changeable.
Sunday was one of the calmest days, and we thought it might be the best day for a boat trip. We particularly wanted to get out into the open sea where anything could be caught. Even though I can get as green as a turtle on boats and was still pretty rough with a chest infection and man flu, I was filled with optimism. Nathan and I were also in fantastic spirits, persistently winding each other up, as a means of motivation. We were finding humour in just about everything. Of course, this ruined hopes of decent GoPro video footage; it made for some hilarious sound bytes. The first thing we did was cruise through the inner fjord system to a mark we'd spotted on Navionics that, with a 2km walk over boulders, could be fished from the shore. So, we did a little reccy from the boat, and I was straight into a nice pollock on the Hypno Cast metal. A species that we were told doesn't really exist this far north. The 50m deep undersea cliff covered in weed was the perfect ground for them. Our theory had come to fruition, to the surprise of Jacob, the boat guide. I also caught my first redfish of the trip, which was good to see. Happy that the spot was a good one for an exploratory shore session the following day, we moved on.
The next spot, almost opposite a lighthouse and some incredible-looking shoremarks, was a really good one. I remember thinking that I'd love to be left at some of these spots for the day or a night, and get picked up the following day. We were all hauling cod immediately; it was sensational action in this dramatic setting, which reminded me of Orkney's Scapa Flow in some ways. Nathan had a gorgeous double, and it wasn't long until I was into something big, which gave a good scrap on my 40-70g spinning rod. A 20lb cod surfaced after a decent battle and some line stripping. It wasn't quite hooked exactly as intended, but I was certainly happy with the outcome, and it was alright. Often, when speed jigging, the fish will dart and miss the jig, only to get hooked elsewhere. It was the biggest lump of cod so far on the trip and a welcome sight. Despite feeling a little Moby Dick (sick) from looking down all the time, it was fantastic fishing and incredible fishing. We were all consistently hauling cod, and Lasse was certainly consistently finding some nice sizes on the back of the boat when Jacob wasn't crossing his lines.
We then moved to the open sea, which was a little more lively, with birds diving and the imposing islands of Norway's outer archipelago of islands in the distance, reminding us of the way home. The views were breathtaking, like nowhere else on earth. It was almost like we could have been in one of those mythological movies from the sixties or seventies, Sinbad, or Jason and Argonauts. I kept an eye out for Pegasus or that flying mechanical owl. I think the soaring sea eagles would have got the latter, as Nathan feared for his DJI drone at times. Nature still rules and prevails in uniquely wild places like these. I know one thing: I no longer needed to see Lofoten after seeing this place. The visuals will leave an indellible mark on me.
We were just hooked up most of the time, Lasse had a small halibut, too. I feel I have no concept of time when the fishing is like this and the scenery is so evocative. Nathan then hooked what seemed like a very decent coalie, only for the hooks to pull free after a short explosive battle. Barely five minutes passed, and I had a fantastic run on my metal, all the jokes about it being Nathan's lost fish commenced. He was even hitting my line with his rod at one point chanting like a madman telling the fish to get off. I was also getting heckled by Jacob as I was taking my time, probably having five decent runs on the spinning rod and jig, but I wasn't about to let these soft VMC hooks get pulled. I played it out and didn't have it up to the boat whilst it was still green. Eventually, to my delight, a 12lb torpedo of a coalie surfaced, and I got a few snaps. Nathan commented, "You are so ...... lucky". I laughed. My third PB of the trip, I was over the moon.
We fished on, now losing a little light, and I caught my first three lumb, on the bait rod. Sadly none beyond about 5lb, but welcome all the same, another trip PB. The weather turned, with some rain, and Nathan did a bit of drone work. It was almost dark, and it was sadly time to head back. I just didn't want to stop; I was totally addicted to this incredible fishing. Everyone had a fantastic day on the water, seeing Norway at its best, though Jacob quipped that there could be far better days on the boat. We were elated.
We had a tipple when we got home and reflected on the experience. The next day, it was the two-kilometre scramble over boulders to the shore mark with 50m depth and that subsea wall. I was dripping in sweat by the time I got to the spot with bait gear. Nathan and Lasse were much faster; it was sort of hellish for me, as I knew it would be. The venue did look amazing, and we couldn't not try it, as it was one of our favourites to try before we came. Lasse and I had liked its look for months, and Nathan was excited about it, too. To my surprise, my small metals were picking up small redfish; I think a subspecies, amongst the giant mackerel (all over 1.5lb) and the coalies. Nathan was busy pulling up some decent pollock on his soft plastics, probably three or four before he switched things up. It was a smashing day of 34-degree sunshine, with the warm winds getting up as the day progressed. Lasse had a run, which may have been a halibut; alas it dropped the bait. I found the lure fishing thoroughly entertaining, but the bait fishing was quiet. I expect later in the year, this mark will throw up some special fish, though the weather may make it less accessible. The torchlit walk back at dusk was a pain, as I took the wrong path a couple of times. Eventually, we made it to the car by the little pier for a much-needed drink of water. If my memory serves me correctly, this was the evening we convinced ourselves to stop for a much needed Burger King on the way home, making it just minutes before last orders. I am not sure I can ever remember enjoying a hot meal so much in my life, it was euphoric after the day we'd had.
We were up for our final day of fishing, with half of the time allocated for packing gear, tidying up, and reloading rod tubes for the journey back to England. Winds were a challenge, so we took a drive to fish this little dock that had good depths for halibut and would just about fit the three of us. It was typical halibut fishing, with not much doing and lots of hope and anticipation. My bucket got blown in, and I lost my filleting knife, though I managed to cast a metal until I caught the bucket strap to retrieve it. The day was a wind down for us, a chance to debrief and unpack what we'd experienced during the trip.
The first trip to Lauklines had been incredible, an experience that will long live in our memories. We'd had a huge task to find new shore marks, but our watercraft and know-how as a group had prevailed, providing us with some special fish. The lure fishing had been sensational, rivalling almost anywhere on earth and certainly surpassing any cod marks I have tried on my previous six trips (Bodo, Trondheimsfjord, Oslo, etc.). Lure anglers would give their eye teeth for fishing like this. We'd found the halibut, the pinnacle of my trip, really. The day on the boat was just unparalleled for us. Those views, the camaraderie, and the fish. Lasse, the giant, was such a gentleman on the trip. I very much enjoyed his company, and he perhaps was the counterweight that kept Nathan and me grounded. It was awesome to fish with my brother, Mike for half of the trip, and having him landing my best fish for me. I wish he could have stayed longer. He had his own PB cod and a magical trip to Norway's Arctic to experience its fishing, something truly unique. Nathan (Slippy Limpets) had been a brilliant company. It was my first time meeting him properly, and he has great energy and passion, and he's also hilarious when hungry (hangry). Having done many group fishing trips away, their success or failures are usually about the people you share them with, and we had a great crew for this one. as a result, it was a majestic trip at Lauklines."
"We left him at Tromso airport, said our goodbyes, nipped to a tackle shop and headed to a public dock in the city with a deep channel opposite. It's quite the most urban place I have fished in a long time, but the fish didn't mind at all. I was catching codling down the side of the platform on the metals and soft plastics, as well as coalies. We did wonder if this could be the venue for flatties, and Jacob, the camp's guide from Sweden, found a lovely plaice 20-30 yards out. I had a go, too, with my Portsmouth Loop Rig and some ragworm that had seen better days. I did get a double shot of dabs before I got plagued with coalies. Some of us, including me, also picked up haddock unintentionally, which was great to see. Lasse was catching cod on the corner, and Nathan was winkling out a few fish. We only did six hours at the spot; none of us had a long day in us, and we needed some recovery time and a good sleep. The fresh air really knocks you out, and we had some fresh halibut to cook, and Jacob obliged as a chef in Mike's absence. Mike had done all of the cooking until that point.
Next up, we did a session in the local fjord, which provides exceptional fishing over the colder months, but was quiet for us, besides a few goalies. The following day, we couldn't fish an excellent shore spot, as the landowner was working, so we picked another spot close by with a rapid tidal rip, which screamed fish. Sadly, we barely registered a bit in about four hours, and the wind speeds were pretty crazy; tripod legs were well and truly wedged into the boulders. I was suffering from a strong bout of man-flu and really couldn't wait to get back into the digs, even though the mark screamed halibut in terms of the ground and conditions. In these fjord systems, you really never know what the wind or weather will be doing until you turn up; it's very changeable.
Sunday was one of the calmest days, and we thought it might be the best day for a boat trip. We particularly wanted to get out into the open sea where anything could be caught. Even though I can get as green as a turtle on boats and was still pretty rough with a chest infection and man flu, I was filled with optimism. Nathan and I were also in fantastic spirits, persistently winding each other up, as a means of motivation. We were finding humour in just about everything. Of course, this ruined hopes of decent GoPro video footage; it made for some hilarious sound bytes. The first thing we did was cruise through the inner fjord system to a mark we'd spotted on Navionics that, with a 2km walk over boulders, could be fished from the shore. So, we did a little reccy from the boat, and I was straight into a nice pollock on the Hypno Cast metal. A species that we were told doesn't really exist this far north. The 50m deep undersea cliff covered in weed was the perfect ground for them. Our theory had come to fruition, to the surprise of Jacob, the boat guide. I also caught my first redfish of the trip, which was good to see. Happy that the spot was a good one for an exploratory shore session the following day, we moved on.
The next spot, almost opposite a lighthouse and some incredible-looking shoremarks, was a really good one. I remember thinking that I'd love to be left at some of these spots for the day or a night, and get picked up the following day. We were all hauling cod immediately; it was sensational action in this dramatic setting, which reminded me of Orkney's Scapa Flow in some ways. Nathan had a gorgeous double, and it wasn't long until I was into something big, which gave a good scrap on my 40-70g spinning rod. A 20lb cod surfaced after a decent battle and some line stripping. It wasn't quite hooked exactly as intended, but I was certainly happy with the outcome, and it was alright. Often, when speed jigging, the fish will dart and miss the jig, only to get hooked elsewhere. It was the biggest lump of cod so far on the trip and a welcome sight. Despite feeling a little Moby Dick (sick) from looking down all the time, it was fantastic fishing and incredible fishing. We were all consistently hauling cod, and Lasse was certainly consistently finding some nice sizes on the back of the boat when Jacob wasn't crossing his lines.
We then moved to the open sea, which was a little more lively, with birds diving and the imposing islands of Norway's outer archipelago of islands in the distance, reminding us of the way home. The views were breathtaking, like nowhere else on earth. It was almost like we could have been in one of those mythological movies from the sixties or seventies, Sinbad, or Jason and Argonauts. I kept an eye out for Pegasus or that flying mechanical owl. I think the soaring sea eagles would have got the latter, as Nathan feared for his DJI drone at times. Nature still rules and prevails in uniquely wild places like these. I know one thing: I no longer needed to see Lofoten after seeing this place. The visuals will leave an indellible mark on me.
We were just hooked up most of the time, Lasse had a small halibut, too. I feel I have no concept of time when the fishing is like this and the scenery is so evocative. Nathan then hooked what seemed like a very decent coalie, only for the hooks to pull free after a short explosive battle. Barely five minutes passed, and I had a fantastic run on my metal, all the jokes about it being Nathan's lost fish commenced. He was even hitting my line with his rod at one point chanting like a madman telling the fish to get off. I was also getting heckled by Jacob as I was taking my time, probably having five decent runs on the spinning rod and jig, but I wasn't about to let these soft VMC hooks get pulled. I played it out and didn't have it up to the boat whilst it was still green. Eventually, to my delight, a 12lb torpedo of a coalie surfaced, and I got a few snaps. Nathan commented, "You are so ...... lucky". I laughed. My third PB of the trip, I was over the moon.
We fished on, now losing a little light, and I caught my first three lumb, on the bait rod. Sadly none beyond about 5lb, but welcome all the same, another trip PB. The weather turned, with some rain, and Nathan did a bit of drone work. It was almost dark, and it was sadly time to head back. I just didn't want to stop; I was totally addicted to this incredible fishing. Everyone had a fantastic day on the water, seeing Norway at its best, though Jacob quipped that there could be far better days on the boat. We were elated.
We had a tipple when we got home and reflected on the experience. The next day, it was the two-kilometre scramble over boulders to the shore mark with 50m depth and that subsea wall. I was dripping in sweat by the time I got to the spot with bait gear. Nathan and Lasse were much faster; it was sort of hellish for me, as I knew it would be. The venue did look amazing, and we couldn't not try it, as it was one of our favourites to try before we came. Lasse and I had liked its look for months, and Nathan was excited about it, too. To my surprise, my small metals were picking up small redfish; I think a subspecies, amongst the giant mackerel (all over 1.5lb) and the coalies. Nathan was busy pulling up some decent pollock on his soft plastics, probably three or four before he switched things up. It was a smashing day of 34-degree sunshine, with the warm winds getting up as the day progressed. Lasse had a run, which may have been a halibut; alas it dropped the bait. I found the lure fishing thoroughly entertaining, but the bait fishing was quiet. I expect later in the year, this mark will throw up some special fish, though the weather may make it less accessible. The torchlit walk back at dusk was a pain, as I took the wrong path a couple of times. Eventually, we made it to the car by the little pier for a much-needed drink of water. If my memory serves me correctly, this was the evening we convinced ourselves to stop for a much needed Burger King on the way home, making it just minutes before last orders. I am not sure I can ever remember enjoying a hot meal so much in my life, it was euphoric after the day we'd had.
We were up for our final day of fishing, with half of the time allocated for packing gear, tidying up, and reloading rod tubes for the journey back to England. Winds were a challenge, so we took a drive to fish this little dock that had good depths for halibut and would just about fit the three of us. It was typical halibut fishing, with not much doing and lots of hope and anticipation. My bucket got blown in, and I lost my filleting knife, though I managed to cast a metal until I caught the bucket strap to retrieve it. The day was a wind down for us, a chance to debrief and unpack what we'd experienced during the trip.
The first trip to Lauklines had been incredible, an experience that will long live in our memories. We'd had a huge task to find new shore marks, but our watercraft and know-how as a group had prevailed, providing us with some special fish. The lure fishing had been sensational, rivalling almost anywhere on earth and certainly surpassing any cod marks I have tried on my previous six trips (Bodo, Trondheimsfjord, Oslo, etc.). Lure anglers would give their eye teeth for fishing like this. We'd found the halibut, the pinnacle of my trip, really. The day on the boat was just unparalleled for us. Those views, the camaraderie, and the fish. Lasse, the giant, was such a gentleman on the trip. I very much enjoyed his company, and he perhaps was the counterweight that kept Nathan and me grounded. It was awesome to fish with my brother, Mike for half of the trip, and having him landing my best fish for me. I wish he could have stayed longer. He had his own PB cod and a magical trip to Norway's Arctic to experience its fishing, something truly unique. Nathan (Slippy Limpets) had been a brilliant company. It was my first time meeting him properly, and he has great energy and passion, and he's also hilarious when hungry (hangry). Having done many group fishing trips away, their success or failures are usually about the people you share them with, and we had a great crew for this one. as a result, it was a majestic trip at Lauklines."
Last edited:
