WSF on Tour: Iceland

The lengths I have to go to for work. 7 long days of catching big cod from the shores of Iceland waited, where I was to catch fish, take photographs, and document my experience.

A colleague, who sits over the other side of the desk from me at work overheard that I was going to Iceland. ‘pssst – you do know that Iceland is THE place for nightlife and women, don’t you?’ exclaimed my workmate (who shall remain nameless) ‘Their all beautiful over there, and a night out in Reykjavik is usually more wild than Ibiza – just a pity beer is so expensive’. Well, as convincing as it sounded, I was going over there to work, although I remained confident that the odd jaunt on the town may be on the cards.

Time wore on, and it was soon time for packing. Getting all the fishing gear you want to fit within your air travel allowance is hard work. Several broken zips later and I was all set for my first flight in some 9 years – eek!

LIFT OFF!
In the airport I sat munching my way through WH Smiths supply of chocolate. Nervous, and juddering like a bus window, I made my way through security with no problems. One long walk down the tunnel to the plane was all that separated me from my destiny (did I mention im scared of flying?) Making maters worse, I was traveling on my own, with Mike Thrussell and Mike Thrussell Jnr flying later that day from Stansted. I had a window seat, which gave me a twisted sense of confidence; if I was going to die at least I would see what’s coming!

Slowly we made our way to the runway. Woosh – off we went. Once I loosened the grip on my seat, opened my eyes and let the ticker back down to a normal pace, I looked out the window and down at the hills below. What a feeling! From the top end of Scotland until the next land mass there wasn’t a single cloud. I loved every second of it.

The next sight of land, of course, was Iceland. My first glimpse was vast black volcanic fields, steaming mountain-tops, and ice. I was buzzing with adrenaline, and couldn’t wait to set down and get fishing.

Steve Mason greeted me at the airport and took me a quick tour before it was time for the Thrussell’s arriving, and first ‘team’ meeting. After short discussion, we decided that we may as well have a few casts on a local pier that evening, when in Rome etc…

DREAM FISHING
After our dab marathon on the pier the night before, we were all keen to get amongst some decent cod. Pete and Steve decided that we would fish the cliff marks near the town of Keflavic, where they had been catching numbers of big cod and catfish during the weeks previous.

The fishing was at a pace I had never experienced before. Fat cod were munching down baits, with the odd shoal of haddock moving in from time to time providing variety. I cant emphasize enough how carpeted the seabed is with big dabs. In 30 seconds, if a cod or haddock hadn’t jumped on, dabs would.

Steve explained that when a shoal of larger cod move in, you wont usually catch dabs as they are fair game fodder during a feeding frenzy. April is early for big cod from the shore, and such fishing is usually available from June onwards – not that I am complaining about stacks of cod averaging 8lb. We decided to try new marks, resulting in a rare starry ray for Mike Jnr and yet more big cod.

HAIR DOWN
After 2 days of hectic fishing, I was well and truly knackered. Steve suggested a trip to a commercial hot water spa complex. I wasn’t enthusiastic to start with, but 2 minutes sitting in an outdoor pool sizzling and bubbling at 40 degrees, surrounded by blonde Icelandic women in bikinis, I was in love with the country. I could now fully understand why Pete and Steve gave up fishing our desolate shores in the UK for this place.

Unfortunately, a gale had started blowing, meaning the next day was likely to be a very late start if anything at all. Pete suggested a trip into Reykjavik town centre for a drink, an idea fully appreciated by us all. We arrived at a bar called ‘Players’ at about 11PM, the sun had just started to fade out, and the wind was blowing ever stronger.

Surprisingly the place was dead, although Pete assured us that the town usually comes alive after midnight; alcohol is very expensive in Iceland, and locals tend to drink at home first before coming out. Sure enough, midnight came and the place was suddenly alive. Several Scotch Whisky doubles later at 13 quid a shot, and I was on the floor dancing like a loon with the rest of them (allegedly). On arriving back to our table, Mike Snr, Mike Jnr and Pete were surrounded by friendly locals, all of whom female – yup, it was one good night, ending at 6am as the bar emptied.

I recommend a night in the town to anyone visiting Iceland. The relatively small population, all of whom speak English, are dedicated to showing visitors a good time. The owner of our digs even invited us to her birthday party – the Icelandic hospitality made the trip all that more enjoyable.

The storm that had been blowing eventually calmed, leaving flat calm seas and glorious sunshine. The temperatures rarely rose above freezing, but the fishing made it very bearable. Steve took us to one of his favourite rock marks where we all landed catfish and numbers of big cod and haddock. Just before it started getting dark the switched on big style, with all of us taking good fish nudging double figures. It was a magical evening’s sport that I will remember for a long time to come. Steve was still disappointed with the size of the fish, yet none of us had any complaints. We decided that we would return here the next day, which sadly was going to be our last before returning home.

We were up bright and early for our last days fishing. Mike Snr was first into the action, and landed good cod after good cod. Steve suggested we split up, and I followed him to a rocky point some 100 yards away. This was a good move; although there was few fish around for several hours, after perseverance I landed a cod of just under 13lbs – a PB! We fished on into the night, ending on a similar frenzied note as our trip had begun – fish galore! After dozens of last casts we headed back to the digs, where the two Mikes and I reflected on a fantastic trip over a few Viking Beers.

We merely scratched the surface of what Iceland has to offer. Steve and Pete are currently exploring the vast amount of fishing opportunities available to them, catching more (and bigger!) fish all the time. To find out more about joining them for a fishing holiday like no other, visit www.dreamfish.is