For the past few days, the weather on the heath where Heiðarvatn is located has been exceptionally calm—dead still or, at most, a light breeze day after day. I decided to see if the lake was fishable under these conditions. Local lore says the lake is best after a strong southwesterly wind, specifically in Veiðivík, as the brown trout seem to move into the bay when the wind blows from the south.
I decided to fish all the way around the lake since I had the whole day ahead of me and felt in good enough shape for the hike. I reached the water by 10:30 AM and started on the western bank by the rock pile where I’ve caught fish once before. I didn’t get a bite and immediately jumped to the conclusion that the lake was unfishable in this weather. I cast here and there on my way toward the bay. It was off the northern side of Réttartangi that I first encountered fish in this lake many years ago. In the calm water, I could clearly see a channel forming between the shallows near the bank and the shallows out in the middle of the lake. It struck me as a likely spot for trout to hold. I swung off my backpack and waded out to where I could easily cast into the deeper water. After a few casts, a 1.6-pound brown trout took a black Nobbler. Naturally, I gave the area more time, and a few casts later, another one grabbed the Nobbler—this one weighed 2.2 pounds. A third trout took the fly as well, but it was small and I released it.
I continued fishing along Réttartangi, around its northern point, and then the entire bay to the north. By the time I reached the head of the bay, I was starting to feel the fatigue from the long walk. For some reason, likely based on past experience, I didn’t think the bottom of that bay looked like a promising spot. Still, I decided to throw a spinner into the bay a couple of times with my spinning rod—I didn’t even bother taking off my backpack. On the second cast, the most impressive fish of the day took a black Toby. It weighed in at 2.8 pounds. I switched back to the fly and had two strikes; I probably would have landed another one if I had given it more time.
I fished my way around the rest of the bay, casting here and there. At one point, a trout followed the fly, which was a thrill to watch in the mirror-still water. Finally, I walked to the spot on the western bank where I’ve often seen fish before, but this time, nothing was happening. By then, I had pretty much run out of energy, so I decided to call it a day.
