06-04-05

Wednesday

It was a perfect day

...and I'm glad I spent it with the pikes. (from Lou Reed almost) 
But nothing in this world is perfect maybe with the exception of the above mentioned song from the album "Transformer". But before I develop that any further let's just make a short flashback back to last Saturday. That day had been a fishing day but with little or no success. That is why you don't know about it because I want to keep such days to myself. It's hard to write a diary about nothing.
No fun to write and no fun to read, that's the main reason. Not because I might feel ashamed or something like that. I'm too old for that.
In my journals I have one special scapegoat who usually gets all the blame. The weather. And the most important part is the wind. Or, as was the case that day, the absent of it. But let's not waste too much space and time on that. I did not catch one fish. End of story. But when I was driving to the sea I saw one pretty big awesome creature and this is specially for you Germans. What I hear is that you as a nation are pretty much hung up on that tall, big and majestic creature, here known as the elk. On other continents as the moose.  And that was what I saw just beside the road standing below a ridge on a snow covered field. There it stood motionless and if I'd had the camera ready I might've got myself a good picture of it. More nature stuff: 
A few kilometers from that place, on a smaller road I saw a deer jump over a fence. 
Still more nature stuff:
I read in the local newspaper that just a few days after my visit to Gökalv (that was where I was heading) a wolf (yes, a real, identified big wolf) had been sighted just a couple of miles from that place. 
From the actual fishing on the other hand, nothing is worth to be mentioned. When I set out it was cloudy and windy (and that's good!) but the weather made an April fool out of me because the moment I was all dressed up, rod in hand, a One Size fits all on the leader the sky cleared up, the sun started to shine and above all, the wind died completely. The worst ever kind of weather. 
But let's forget that day and get on with today's report.

This is how it looked just before I started to wade out in the water. It's as perfect conditions as you ever will find here.  The main target in the morning was actually sea trout. This time of year the pikes are more likely to be found on the inside of islands and archipelagos but this is an outside of a peak. A place that looks like sea trout can be around. Here in Blekinge April is the best month to catch one, in my opinion.

The problem with sea trout is that there are much more good sea trout places than actual sea trout. In other words, they're pretty hard to find.
But I got lucky. Or half lucky. A sea trout struck in it's typical manner after just a quarter of an hour's fishing.  As you can see from the picture the water is both stony and shallow and first I thought the fly... Oh, that language barrier! What's "bottennapp" called in English? When the hook gets stuck on weed or a stone? Instead of a fish, I mean. What's the proper word for it, please help me!
Anyway that was what I thought firstly so sharp and fast was the bite. And it let go. But not before I'd caught a silvery and flashy glimpse of it, so I know it was a, luckily enough, small sea trout. A short while after that I felt another tug on the line that I put on another sea trout's account. 
This is when the thick fog came rolling in and suddenly I could only see some fifty meters around me. Do I hate fog when I'm  out in my boat? Yes, I do. When I was almost finished with the sea trout fishing a couple of hours later, I got me a small pike. 
The first in a long, long line, as it later turned out to be...

Earlier I was talking nature stuff but no birds. As you maybe have observed by now I usually don't mention the exact names of villages, peaks, islands or places where I go to. The reason for that is of course that the Swedish words and names of places sound so ridiculous and look so out of place when writing in English. I try to avoid that as much as possible. But the place I visited today is considered a veritable bird watcher's paradise. But oddly enough I didn't succeed to take one good picture of a bird today. Maybe better luck next time? But I can tell you about one day here a couple of years ago and this is true! Not about birds. Here's a lot of sheep and fences around and when I arrived one early spring or summer morning the sheep run around like crazy and I met an elderly gentlemen in an even more elderly car. He told me that a wolf had made an attack on his sheep and killed some and wounded others. And scared away all. He was very upset about it.  Hmm... I wonder if I amplify prejudices of Sweden with this kind of talk...? A bit like the ones about Polar bears in the cities...

Like what I said about the Germans and their strange passion for elks. But the truth must come out! And the two stories here told of the wolves are the truths of the day, I promise. But let me point out that wolves are very unusual and extraordinaire here in the south parts of Sweden. We have a small population of wolf in some landscapes up in the North and occasionally a lone male will stray far away in the search of a female and a wolf can travel hundreds of Swedish miles on such a hunt. 
But on the other hand, you foreign fly fishermen out there in your foreign countries that maybe feel inspired of this diary to come and visit Sweden. Maybe even try to find out exactly where I catch my pikes.
Beware! Always keep an eye behind you! These wolves are very big and they got long, sharp teeth! And they hunt in big packs! And don't consider yourselves secure and safe out waded in the water because these fearful animals are excellent swimmers! Their fangs will penetrate even the thickest neopren! Also I hear that you can't be sure they aren't infected by rabies as well. So follow my advice and stay at home. Or go to Canada or New Zeeland where the fishing is much, much better.
Back to today's fishing:
Then I visited place number 2, as it is reported in the statistic table below. The place itself was an inwards looking side of a peak with shallow, a bit muddy bottom. There I found them. A congressional center for pikes, it appeared. The above picture shows the average size of them. Mostly about two kilo. Bite after bite. Caught and released pike after pike. They just kept coming. At last I'd had enough of it and left the place. This might sound strange and weird but too much is too much. I got fed up. It was too easy. 
Of course I feel glad that there are so many pikes around. And these occasions where there's a bite on every cast is like in the case of straying wolves, very unusual. Like I reported from the beginning of the year, the pikes appear to gather themselves in large groups in small places in late autumns and winters.  But it will look very good in my statistic table to be sure.  All twenty. Please take a look at this picture:

I flatter myself to think that I was among the first to get this perspective on fly fishing photos. To my knowledge of course. I have no doubt that by now thousands of angry mails from around the world claiming that it exist hundreds and thousands of photos in this style, only much better are on its way to my mail box. At least when people get to know of my claim. In my Swedish diaries these photos exist by the hundreds, I think. I always try to catch a jumping pike and not so seldom I actually succeed. But not today or this time of the year. The water is extremely cold and the pikes extremely lazy and fat. But later on in the season. Like June. Then the pikes are on their peak regarding strength and stamina.
Phew! Now I feel exhausted of this trying to write in English... My strength and stamina in doing so appears to be much lesser than the pikes in June. Besides, today is a new fishing day and the time for writing is running out. The day I'm writing this, that is. I get up early in the morning, much earlier I think, than the average blues singer. So let's just finish it off with another favorite motive of mine:

It's a photo from place no 3, the first pike caught there, weighing 4 kilo. In summer this place is a popular beach. Now I and the pikes rule.