Bob Dylan echoed through the speakers as I drove across Mosfellsheiði, heading for my first fishing trip of the summer to Lake Þingvallavatn. After relentless rain throughout May and the beginning of June, it was—believe it or not—dry. The sky was overcast, though the sun managed to break through the cloud banks every now and then. There was a light northeasterly breeze, which occasionally died down into a dead calm. The temperature was around 7°C, gradually rising to 13°C by noon.
Around seven o’clock, I stood ready on the bank between Hallvík and Ólafsdráttur. Dylan had fallen silent, replaced by the song of the birds. That song is far more beautiful than Dylan’s singing, though Dylan certainly holds the winning hand when it comes to lyrics and songwriting. I began by sitting down, having a sip of tea, and giving myself time to listen to the concert. I was slightly concerned that my newly repaired waders might leak; fortunately, they held up just fine.
I have heard fishermen debate whether to fish Þingvallavatn with a floating line and a long leader or with a slow-sinking line. I have always belonged to the former group, perhaps because I was never satisfied with my clear, slow-sinking line. This spring, I finally took the plunge and replaced it. I bought an Airflo line at Vesturröst with a twelve-meter sinking tip. On this trip, I decided to put this method to the test. By half past nine, I was growing restless and decided to move over to Vatnskot.
There were many fishermen in the Vatnskot area. I strolled out onto Túntangi but saw three anglers casting toward the shallows around Murtusker—exactly where I had intended to fish. I positioned myself to the west of them. I could see the other fishermen were catching fish, but nothing was happening for me. I decided to move again.
I drove down to Öfugsnáði. There were fewer fishermen there, though still a few. I walked east along the bank from the parking area and found a spot, likely off Hlóðavík or perhaps a bit further east. I had only cast three or four times when a fish struck a ‘Black Snail’ (Svarti kuðungurinn). I landed a fine snail-eating char, weighing just over two and a half pounds. As it turns out, fishing with a slow-sinking line and a shorter leader works in Þingvallavatn too. The downside to this method is losing more flies, but at least I am certain I am fishing deep enough.