A couple of questions off me mike if you don't mind.
1.How many fish have you taken this year so far??
2.Whats the biggest??
3.Cod on a fly
off the shore
Do you take them on Hi D lines mike? Or do you take them close to the surface,Floater/intermediate?
Cheers.
DAZ.[/quote]
I only fished the Baltic twice this year due to personal circumstances. I fished one day in Early spring for about five hours, and got three fish, two about 50 cm and one of just over 7 lb.
I fished a weekend ( Friday night to late Sunday evening) in late May with two friends. I got seven fish, up to 8 lbs, one of my friends ( who was spinning), had 14 fish, but at least half of them were undersized. he also got a very very nice steelhead ( Wild rainbow, there are a lot of escapees in the Baltic which revert to the wild) of five and a half pounds. The other friend ( also fly fishing) got three fish, all about the three pound mark.
May be of interest;
www.aiep.pl/abstract/pdf_1985/vol_15_s_a3.htm( Click on the PDF symbol for the whole file)
( If you need a quick and easy PDF reader instead of the slow and clumsy Adobe acrobat reader, then get this, it is free, and absolutely first class!;
www.foxitsoftware.com/pdf/rd_intro.php )
There is a thriving population of wild steelhead in the Baltic. They have higher growth rates than seatrout. They are often hard to distinguish, being bright silver, just like the seatrout, but the purple or pink gill plates, and the spotted tails are usually a giveaway. They often fight quite spectacularly.
Many are escapees from fish farms etc, but quite a few have been introdude purposely for various reasons.
The fish shown here are steelhead, and salmon;
www.fliegenfischerschule.com/guiding.htmlRegenbogenforelle = Rainbow trout
Meerforelle = Seatrout
Some nice pics here; ( Scroll down);
www.anglerpraxis.de/content/view/310/169/Seatrout 87 cm, 11.44 lbs;
www.angelecke.com/bilder/mefo87cm5_2kg.jpgThis is a 15,4 lb fish from the shore;
moerrum.de/gallery/images/gal4_svenoeringBIG.jpgtwo fifteen pounders form the shore;
moerrum.de/gallery/images/gal4_sven2x7BIG.jpgA nice one trolling;
www.marinaminde.com/Files/Billeder/Fiskeri/Meerforelle-St-Hans.jpgVarious fish from the Baltic;
www.angeln.de/praxis/raubfisch/bodden-spezial-fuhrmann-04-01.htmA film about on seminars on Als, and other islands etc, Als is a small peninsula just over the German border in Denmark, which I have fished a great deal, as I can get there in a hour or so. At loeast as good as Funen, and smaller and easier to fish;
www.marios-fliegendose.de/marios-fliegendose/assets/multimedia/seminar_meerforelle_400x320.wmvSome nice fish from the Baltic;
www.marios-fliegendose.de/marios-fliegendose/html/bildergalerie_2005.html( Sorry, but a large number of links are in German, and there is no English translation. ).
I have not fished the Baltic since. At one time I fished at least once a week, sometimes more often, just having a run up for an evening etc. I have also fished "year round", and caught fish even in deepest winter, but this is not easy, and one can often blank.
There are never any guarantees for fish. Although I dont often blank nowadays, I have done so regularly in the past, and I know quite a few people who try very hard without much luck.
My biggest fish from the shore was a thirteen pounder as I recall, and I have had a quite a few in excess of ten pounds. I have had larger ones from a boat when downrigging. My best was a twenty three pounder ( seatrout) and a 32 pounder ( salmon). These are herring and sprat feeders which are found in deeper water, not usually reachable from the shore. Numbers of larger fish are taken from the shore though.
Caught untold numbers of cod over the years as well, some quite large.
I cant tell you exactly without reference to my diaries, but my "best" year in terms of seatrout caught, I got over a hundred fish. These were all on fly, but not all on "traditional" fly gear, and not all from the shore.
For "traditional" fly-fishing, I normally use either a floater, or an intermediate. Hi-d lines are only very rarely used. Mainly from a boat or belly boat. Cod can be taken in shallow water under the right conditions, just like the seatrout. They feed on the same things. Baltic cod are a streamlined fish, not like the pot-bellied examples one often sees in various photos. They will even take flies from the surface ( wake lures at night).
I also use some special gear for fly fishing, which is a system of casting floats, known as sbirulinos.
This may be of interest;
Freezing cold and heavy snowfall. My feet were slowly going numb, and my
fingers had long since turned blue with the cold. The old trick of plunging
them into the freezing water to increase the circulation, and thus warm them
up, had worked as usual, but the effects had long since worn off and I was
really cold now. Neoprene gloves with fold back finger and thumb were little
use, and so I removed them.Visibility was low because of the fairly dense
snowfall, and the footing was treacherous over the rocks.
Memories of my last fall in this spot on a day trip the previous year, when
I crashed heavily onto a rock with my right knee, and had to more or less
crawl to the car being unable to walk, came to mind, and made me even more
careful than usual. Without the cushioning of the 5mm neoprene my kneecap
would surely have been badly damaged, as it was it brought tears to my eyes,
and my knee was swollen and all the colours of the rainbow for weeks.
Digging my ski pole in carefully at every step I kept moving, staying at the
waters edge, and only wading when absolutely necessary, to negotiate large
boulders and the like. falling into this water would likely prove fatal very
quickly, should I be stupid or careless enough to do so.
The wind had dropped somewhat, to about a howling gale, and the rapidly
swirling snow flakes stuck to my clothing and covered my head and shoulders,
freezing to my spectacles and forcing me to shake my head occasionally to
stop too large a build-up. Clammy cold damp reached through my neoprenes and
made me shiver occasionally. Very heavy overcast coupled with the snowstorm
had turned the day very dark. I had started to fish just before dawn, and
had made my way slowly along three miles or so of the rocky coastline
stopping to cast every ten feet or so, using main force to try and reach out
as far as possible into the murk, lingering a little longer at some places
which had proved successful in the past. Result ? nothing.
Checking the watch on the lanyard in my top pocket, told me it was eleven
thirty, and I had told my wife I would probably be back to the chalet for
lunch, she had declined to accompany me, and decided to stay in the chalet
with a good book instead. Sensible person my wife. Just another hundred
meters or so I thought, and then I will turn for home, the group of large
rocks at the headland is usually the best place anyway, as the sea-bed dips
away into a deep channel quite close to shore. Takes come as the fly comes
up over the lip of the channel where a large band of weed lines the shore,
mostly cod, but occasionally a good seatrout, the lip of the channel is only
about sixty feet from shore, and a good flat powerful cast should reach it,
even in this wind. Overwintering seatrout are often large, in excellent
condition, and sometimes fight like fury, many maintain they taste better
than any other fish bar none. Largish cod are not to be sniffed at either
though, they fight much more doggedly than a seatrout, but are still
exciting, and a five or even ten pounder on light gear is an experience not
soon forgotten. Several such fish had fallen to my rod at this spot the
previous year under similar conditions.
Conventional gear was useless, and I had long since taken the fly reel and
line off the rod, in fact within the first twenty minutes, and was using a
casting float and fixed spool reel. Even with this rig it was hardly
possible to cast more than fifty feet or so into the teeth of the wind.
A slow sinking sliding float of thirty grams, a nine foot leader, and a
shrimp fly had brought nothing as yet, not as much as a nibble. I decided
to change flies, and put on a much darker version of the shrimp fly, with a
touch of red in the tail.
The normally peaceful Baltic was crashing into the shore with unusual force,
white horses whirling and dancing on the wave tops as far as it was possible
to see, and although the water cleared quickly after every breaker, allowing
one to see the bottom fairly well close in, I fancied something with a
darker silhouette might do the trick, although my hopes of catching anything
at all had diminished considerably.
As usual I dangled the fly in the water in front of me, waiting for a break
in the surf, allowing the float to settle slowly and then moving it to check
the action of the fly more or less at my feet. A small crab appeared as if
from nowhere on the blank patch of sand,and seemed to want to grab the fly,
scuttling after it and attempting to settle on it, and fascinated by this, I
pulled the fly along slowly, just to see if the crab would be able to grab
it. Intent on this, I failed to notice the next breaker coming in and
temporarily lost sight of the crab and fly, as the breaker stirred up sand
colouring the water.
A sudden jerk and my float shooting away along the shore at a rate of knots
very nearly frightened me to death, the rod was almost jerked from my hand,
and the drag on my reel started to whine unpleasantly, and I was absolutely
flabbergasted. I did not strike or anything at all, in fact for quite a
while I just stood there with the rod pointing straight along the shore,
while the line cut into my index finger almost to the bone and the drag
continued to whine. After what seemed like an age I finally had enough
presence of mind to take my finger away from the line, and hit the fighting
drag lever on the reel, the drag which was giving off what I hoped was just
steam, slowed to a rather more leisurely rate, and eventually stopped.
Everything went slack, and rather annoyed with myself. but still more
surprised than anything else, I started to reel in. Must have been one hell
of a fish that, I thought, reeling in at moderate speed, you bloody idiot,
fancy losing a fish like that, I cursed myself, and then everything went
tight again !
Bloody hell, hung up as well ! Then the "snag" started moving again. After
about ten minutes of pumping, a few peculiarly powerful long, and some short
dogged runs, which were most unlike any fight I had experienced before, and
during which all sorts of ideas of monster seatrout and salmon went through
my mind, and more pumping, I finally saw the fish, a large cod foul hooked
in the dorsal fin ! Too large to risk beaching it, I unslung my net and
landed it knee deep in the surf, in considerable danger of being swept off
my feet by the breakers.
I despatched the fish, which coughed up a fair number of small crabs, and
after weighing it laid it on a large rock behind me. Just over eleven pounds
showed on my scale which is fairly accurate. Oh well, I thought, not
exactly the fine English art of fly angling, but a nice fish anyway, and
inspected my leader and fly for signs of chafing or other damage. Getting
ready for another Herculean cast into the teeth of the wind, I suddenly
thought better of it, and just swung the float and fly about ten feet from
shore, letting the fly be pulled along by the float and tumbling in the
surf. Bang ! it had not gone three yards when the float shot away again,
and after a much shorter battle a nice plump six pound cod joined its mate
on the rock behind me. Six casts and six fish followed in fairly quick
succession.
Sweating now, all thoughts of cold forgotten, I decided on "just one more
cast" before packing up. I had over forty pounds of fish to clean and pack
back to the chalet, and that was more than enough for our freezer
requirements for this year.
The sky had lightened up somewhat, and the snow had stopped falling,
visibility was steadily increasing, and although the wind had dropped
somewhat the spray was still lashing in with force, occasionally giving me a
good soaking, my face was numb, and all attempts to dry my hands on the
towel from my bag failed miserably as it was already soaking wet. Plunging
my hands into the icy water one more time, and hoping for the best, I
changed my chafed leader with no little difficulty, tied on a new fly of the
same type and size, a rather brown "Baltic woolly", with a touch of red in
the tail, a type of woolly bugger which is a very good shrimp imitation, and
might just conceivably be mistaken for a crab, and decided to try reaching
the lip of the channel.
A forceful whirling side cast using all the power of the thirteen foot one
and a half pound test carp rod, keeping the trajectory as flat as possible,
ended abruptly, as the float struck the water about thirty feet out, my numb
fingers had caused me to mistimed the release. Relatively slight tangles
formed as the wind caught the line and blew it off the reel spool. This was
soon sorted and I took up tension on the line prior to retrieving fairly
fast for another try. Wham ! an almighty jerk on the end of the line bent
the rod well over, and the drag started whining immediately as the fish
headed straight for the deep water channel. Just as well, if it dived for
the weeds it would be gone.
This was no foul hooked cod, but obviously a decent seatrout, and as if to
confirm my observations it leapt from the water about a hundred feet away,
coming down with a large splash which could be heard even over the sound of
wind and waves. A very nice fish indeed, which must be kept out of the
weeds at all costs. I loosened the drag lever somewhat, seatrout often come
off if forced too hard, and settled down to the fight. Several long
screaming runs followed by spectacular leaps followed, with the fish coming
ever closer to the weed bank lining the shore.
The trick at this location is to tire the fish out as much as possible in
the clear water beyond the weed banks, before bringing it in. This is
however often much easier said than done. This was a very powerful fish, and
was still showing little sign of tiring, I loosened the drag a little more,
hoping that the hookhold would not fail due to the prolonged fight, and
awaited developments. Several more runs and leaps followed.and then head
shaking and short deep bursts of speed toward the bottom finally indicated
that the fish was tiring now. A few more minutes and I carefully skimmed
him over the last weed bank into the clear band of water near the shore, and
timing the breakers mentally, I slid my net under him and lifted him out.
A magnificent eight and a half pound seatrout in absolutely prime condition.
Such a fight is rare from winter seatrout, as they are normally rather
sluggish when the water is very cold, but the exception may indeed prove the
rule. The fish was despatched, and added to my string, and I stood for a
moment admiring it, before tackling down, and making my way back along the
coast to the chalet.
When I arrived at the chalet just after four o´clock, My wife had a hot rum
grog waiting for me, and after two of these and a hot shower, I began to
feel almost warm again. We brought the fish in, admired and photographed
them, and cleaned and prepared them before committing them to the freezer.
I fished the following two days from dawn until well after one in the
afternoon, and again in the evenings with my wife, but apart from a small
garfish to my wife´s rod several small cod, and a few herring, we caught no
other sizeable fish. Probably due to the light conditions, among other
things, it was much brighter on the following two days, and in my
experience the fish prefer deeper water then.
All in all an excellent weekend.
Regards and tight lines !
Mike Connor