Digging for Coalfish

Visit these Norwegian waters for engagements with this rough-and-tumble version of pollock and huge cod too. I only wish I could be half as good as my wife at the baffling art of multi-tasking. How is it that the fairer sex can successfully do so many different things at once?

I’m currently struggling to brace myself against the gunwale on a small, pitching boat off the coast of Artic Norway whilst at the same time trying my best to effectively fish this monstrous rubber shad some 30 meters down.

As I try to think of different angles for photographs, the horizon sways all over the place and a variety of simultaneous chores leave me frustrated. Meanwhile, it’s mid-summer and around my legs cling two layers of clothing, three at top, plus hat, sunglasses and a leather buff. Somewhere in the bowels of the boat I hope my camera kit remains nice and dry.

Ultra-mobile and ambidextrous I might not be, but at least I’m warm. Now if the boat would just stop rocking, I might be able to look like a half-decent angler instead of some rather lame fairground act.

Fish on the Telly

“I see big fish – work those lures hard now,” says Per Jonasson, our Swedish skipper and guide. “Feel for the bottom and then start winding as fast as you can. If the shad stops, keep winding.”

Easier said than done as pulse rates quicken, senses heighten, and I’ve got to take this hat off or else I’m going to boil. The shad hits the bottom, and with this I snap the bail-arm over and begin the retrieve. Ten turns, nothing, another 20 turns and still no sniff of a fish. The dark shapes appear plain as day on the fish finder, but they sure show no interest in latching onto my lure. Does the screen lie?

Perhaps two thirds of the way up, and suddenly I can’t wind anymore. “If the lure stops, keep winding,” rings in my head, and I steel myself not to strike.

“Wind into the fish, don’t strike,” Per says reassuringly as he notices my rod tip slam over into the cold water. When that fish crash-dives, it’s all I can do to stop myself hollering out like a man possessed. Braid is forced from a tight drag in that welcome snickering-like sound, and I simply hang on.

Repeated ups and downs, and in time over 30-pounds-plus of prime Norwegian coalfish (also known as Atlantic pollock) hits the surface to a collective gasp of shock from my two friends spread around the boat. I might be fishing fairly light spinning gear, but I think I have the upper hand on the fish. The others try taking these fish on fly, and only now do they see quite what they’re up against.

That distinctive white lateral line of the coalfish now stands proud in their minds I’m sure, most likely like a warning sign. I’ve seen this brand of fishing here once before and came away reeling – pun intended – at the sheer numbers and sizes of these determined battlers. These cold waters abound with prime specimens, drawn to incredibly abundant amounts of herrings upon which to gorge.

Then again, my bravado about previous successes off the tiny island of Rost, Norway, led them to give it a shake on the long rods, so far be it from me to admonish their efforts. Imploring my buddies to use sinking lines and heavy patterns that sink quickly, I received more than a few jealous glances when my live bait proved far more preferable to the charging coalfish.

Coalfish Capers

While coalfish (Pollachius virens) displays a similar appearance to its other pollock cousin (Pollachius pollachius), the former species represent a much harder-fighting fish due to being less affected by rapid depth change. Put simply, they keep on diving when hooked.

Norway represents an unbeatable location to chase big coalfish and also monster cod as their stocks seem outrageously healthy due to bountiful food sources and effective management – much better than my native UK, where resources of coalfish and codfish continue to dwindle.

As in all fishing pursuits, the main trick involves knowing where to go and how to fish for mainly trophy-size coalfish. Late spring and into summer in mid to northern Norway sees the inshore waters fill with vast shoals of small- to medium-size coalfish, but in certain areas it’s possible to encounter monsters below the mere whippersnappers.

The Rost area offers the most consistently big coalfish angling of which I’m aware, and I must hastily also mention the incredible halibut sport in shallow water that’s just coming to light now. Atlantic halibut to nearly 200 pounds have been landed in under 10 meters of water. I’d say that targeting these super-charged flatfish in shallow water sounds like good reason enough for a return trip.

However, the present challenge involved effectively nailing these big, bruising coalfish on fly gear. Fishing big, live shads and casting outsize lures more often than not picked out the bigger fish, but how to do it with flies? Granted, it might be far removed from any idea of conventional fly fishing, but what an insane challenge it became to see if the finicky coalfish could be seduced with some style of fly pattern.

In order to keep from being mugged, I switched from bait angler to photographer on this trip. Providing encouragement and letting the fly guys take the heat, they came prepared with serious gear: 1,000-grain shooting heads, ultra-thin running lines, substantial 12-weight outfits, heavy flies and a bucket load of confidence. We had last all fished together in Venezuela for skinny-water bones, but colorful, skimpy tropical shirts didn’t make it on this jaunt as fleeces, waterproofs, thermals and hats sensibly prevailed.

Sleep? Who Needs It

In truth, bucket-loads of fish surround Rost and catching them isn’t that hard. When those coalfish and cod switch on, they really feed in a frenzy, but whilst my heavy shad could get down to the bigger fish virtually every time, it’s a tougher trick sending flies down over 20 meters. Although at times the big coalfish will hunt close to the surface, we didn’t see that as down deep became the strike zone.

Given a static boat and no tide it could be done easily, but strong tides and a bit of wind all aided in pushing the boat through on a quick drift. That’s fine for me and other fishermen, but not easy for the fly guys. They caught a load of fish that first session, but nothing that could be classed as big.

By the time we sat down for a re-planning session back at camp, we hadn’t slept for nearly two days due to an inopportune connection time from the UK and the nearly 24 hours of daylight playing tricks on our psyches. Per Jonasson seemed to realize this, so he suggested trying at a later time a different tide and a probable lessening wind so the boat would move a bit slower. Maybe we’d get together again on the boat at 2 a.m., he at first mused.

“Um, I’m going to tie some different flies,” Per says. “Time for two sets of tungsten eyes and a 1,000-grain shooting head looped to a 1,100 grain head.”

“Yes, forget about sleep, we can do that when we’re home,” intones UK fly-fishing instructor and guide Nick Hart. “I’m getting down to these fish if it’s the last thing I do.”

Fighting talk. Meanwhile, our fishing friend James Warbrick-Smith wanly nods his approval of the plans and goes ahead anyway by curling up in the corner to grab some shuteye.

“Pass the coffee, please.”

Attack number Two

Casting all that end gear actually became a matter of trying to put the heavy shooting heads and fly in the prop wash as the boat went into neutral. At that point Nick paid out as much running line as possible to get the offering past the stern. Not a classic fly technique, for sure, but practical under the circumstances.

Nick worked out that as soon as his line and pattern sank near the strike zone, it became time to slowly strip the 6/0 Clouser. We eventually found a train of fish, and over went the rod tip into the water. Gingerly stepping out of the way of the running line and praying that no tangles appeared as it rushed out, Nick braced against the rocking of the boat and tried manfully to force a crash-diving lump of coldwater fish back to the surface.

“Good heavens, my first coalfish strike on fly, and I fear even my 12-weight gear’s too light,” cries Nick. The unseen fish hangs up in the tide and works the angler hard.

Nick’s lit up and worried at the same time. “Per, is this normal?”

Cue a giggling Swede, himself a mad-keen fly fisherman and seriously interested to see if this scheme can work. “Keep working that fish, Nick, you’re doing great, you should have him – just expect it to take a while.”

The coalfish that surfaced was a true monster of around 30 pounds. Nick gasped for breath when he saw it, and I hopped around the boat with my camera round my neck like some demented idiot.

James also hooked another big one on his fly gear. The sense of accomplishment washed over all of us, but we dallied not to make more hay as the sun shown on and fish cooperated.

Nick’s fish eventually weighed at just a shade below 30 pounds, and by our reckoning this became the heaviest coalfish ever taken on fly. Whilst he could not claim an IGFA record due to his leader being too heavy, the knowledge that our “experiment” of a trip had resulted in such far-out fishing kept blessed sleep at bay for a load more hours.

James’ fish came to the party at 28 pounds, and Nick and Paul bested a number of other big fish. The constant sight of a coalfish’s standout white lateral line breaching the surface pasted grins on our face. Even strengthening winds that night could not dampen our buoyant spirits, for we still went out and caned a load more fish until sea conditions eventually got the better of us and we called it quits.

Greedy for sleep, we somewhat gratefully lay down and dreamt of the chance of next time taking halibut on the fly. In these wondrous waters around Rost, Noway, it’s just a matter of time, not if.

Bring Your Camera

I found Rost to be a very small, relatively flat island in the Lofoten Islands chain that extends into the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of northern Norway. It exists principally as home base to commercial cod fishermen, where vast numbers of cod are dried on wooden racks and exported mainly to Italy. The picturesque racks can be seen all over the island.

Bird-watchers flock to the Lofoten Islands and many base themselves at the regional center of Svolvaer. Nowhere in Norway will you be able to see more nesting sea birds and at times orcas and other whales.

Whilst Rost’s remote beauty cannot be denied, I couldn’t get over the stunning Norwegian coastline and its many fjords jutting into the mainland. Hiring a car at Bodo and exploring the coast is a good option. Towering snow-capped mountains often seem to plunge straight into the sea, and from the end of May to the end of July it never gets dark – the Midnight Sun allows for plenty of picture opportunities.

The whole coast of Norway is serviced by large numbers of ferries and cruise liners out of ports such as Bergen and Tromso, and I can’t think of a better way of accessing these stunning waters. The famous and spectacular Trollfjord should definitely be on your must list to visit.

Near to Bodo is Saltstraumen, home to some of the fastest tides in the world. A staggering sight to see, the tides here have been clocked at over 20 knots – every six hours, vast quantities of water rush through this three-mile sound that connects Saltenfjord to Skjerstadfjord. The resulting whirlpools can sometimes be over 10 meters across and five meters deep.

Where To Toss The Bags

The most dependable travel plan involves flying into Oslo and then to Bodo. A ferry from Bodo takes you right to Rost. Fishing will be best from the start of May through mid-September.

One would tend to visit Rost for the fishing due to its easy accessibility from the mainland. Whilst a couple of guesthouses can be found on the island, personally I would stay at the excellent fishing camp/lodge set-up on Rost offered by guides from the Swedish company WildWater Fishing. These highly competent, English-speaking guides offer chartering services or rental boats, plus full-board accommodation and all meals.

I found the rooms to be warm, clean and perfectly suited to fishermen. I enjoyed uninterrupted views from the fishing camp over the water, and boats stay moored right below for easy access. Full fish-cleaning facilities, freezers and a drying room exist for guests. You won’t need to hire a car at Rost, with foot travel sufficient or a cheap ferry service that connects Rost and the other Lofoten islands to the mainland at Bodo. WildWater Fishing (www.wildwater.se) can provide all rods, reels, lures and thermal floatation suits, and fly fishers will want to haul along their own tackle.

The mainland overflows with hotels, guest houses and fishing camps, plus you can visit numerous world-famous salmon rivers such as the Alta, Gaula, Stjordal and Namsen. Norway is so famous particularly for one specific kind of music – black metal, which I love.

Hammerfest claims to be the most northern town in the world and it’s a great place if you want to visit in winter to see the world famous Aurora Borealis. Try your hand – or legs – at summer skiing around Tromso, north of Bodo. Both these towns are serviced very regularly by flights from the capital of Oslo.

Other Notes of Interest

About Norway:

• Official Name: Kingdom of Norway
• Government: Constitutional monarchy
• Capital: Oslo
• Area: 385,155 square kilometers or 148,746 square miles, a bit larger than New Mexico in size.
• Geography: Norway stretches the farthest north of any European country to 300 miles above the Artic Circle at its northern tip. The extensive and very indented coastline stretches over 12,000 miles. Over 70 percent of the country is uninhabitable due to mountains, rivers and glaciers.
• Population: 4,711,626
• Language: Norwegian, with many also speaking English
• Religion: 83 percent belong to the state Church of Norway
• Currency: $1US = 5.52 Norway Kroner