Every now and then, the Woodworking Club has set aside its tools to head out on a fishing trip together. The catch has varied, but every journey has been memorable. During our winter meetings over the past few years, the senior member of our club has spoken passionately about a cluster of lakes far off the beaten path. These lakes always yield fish, some of them quite sizable, he says. This is his fishing paradise, and he was keen to introduce the rest of us to it. However, the lakes are a long haul from the capital, so we never quite made the leap.
But never say never. I received a call from one of the club members while I was at my summer cottage, having just returned from Hólmsheiði. Now was the time. At an ungodly hour on Wednesday morning, July 18th, we set off on the long journey to the lakes. We aimed to start fishing by late afternoon, which we eventually did.
The weather on Wednesday was something of a monster—terrible wind and rain. Absolutely miserable for the fly-fishers in the group. Where we began, five lakes sat in a row. Naturally, the senior member had already cast his line by the time the rest of us had geared up and lugged ourselves down to Lake One. This time, he had even managed to land the first trout. We divvied up the lakes: the school principals in the group fished Lakes Two and Three, while the teachers took Lakes Four and Five. Though it was frustrating to work the flies in such weather, no one could accuse us of not trying. We hammered the lakes incessantly with our flies, constantly switching them out, trying with no sink-tip, then a ten-foot sink-tip, and finally, I pulled out a fast-sinking line. To increase our chances of getting a meal for the pot, we left 'lazy lines' (letinger) out while we walked the banks with our fly rods.
Soon enough, a brown trout struck my line—a solid 3.5-pound fish. The same happened for my partner. Something was showing interest in my fly, and eventually, a char of just over a pound took a Black Nobbler. I moved to Lake Two, where another sizeable trout took the bait. Meanwhile, my partner landed three fine trout in Lake Three.
The ‘Teacher Gang,’ who had stuck to the two lower lakes, returned looking quite pleased with themselves. The senior member had landed 8 fish, and his partner 7, a few of which took ‘the Jew’ (Gyðingurinn). No, ‘the Jew’ isn’t a fly; it’s a specific spinner rig contraption that I won’t bother explaining here. The senior member then informed us that this trip was actually a competition between the teachers and the school principals. Of course, he didn’t mention the contest until we were back at the car after the Wednesday shift—once he was certain of victory. The score stood at 15–6 for the teachers.
On Thursday morning, the member who knew the area wanted to use the opportunity to explore a lake he hadn’t visited before, as we were in a Jeep. We drove as far as the vehicle could take us and walked down to the water. It was reasonably large but shallow, and the bottom vegetation was a real nuisance. I landed four trout there but lost a fifth that took the ‘Iceland Spinner.’ Otherwise, the spin fishing suffered the same fate as the fly fishing; the trout were very reluctant to bite. I had been casting spinners for a while when I tried putting bait on the hook—that’s when they finally struck. After this shift, the score was 19–12, still in favor of the teachers.
The third shift began at one o’clock on Thursday. The teachers took the original five lakes while the principals explored the highest lake in the cluster. That lake is quite large and deep in parts. My partner walked straight down to the water from the car, but I hiked around to a point jutting out into the lake. From there, I could cast in all directions, and the conditions for fly fishing were perfect. Except, the trout didn’t want the fly. I had to wait a while for a bite, until I let the bait rest near a gravel ridge close to the shore. I caught two trout there. The fish in these lakes clearly have plenty of food as they are very well-conditioned. When we inspected their stomach contents, they were usually stuffed with snails, with the occasional stickleback. I tried using a stickleback imitation, and that brought in my second fly-caught fish. That was it for me on this trip. From that point, I landed eight trout, ending the tour with 14 fine brown trout and one char.
While I was busy on the point, my partner remained steadfast where he first reached the lake. It didn’t surprise me when I saw what he was hovering over. In the bay, he had spotted several massive Arctic char bunched together. He managed to land three or four of them on a fly. The largest turned out to be a magnificent four-pounder.
Around seven o’clock, we called it a day and headed for home. The competition between the school principals and the teachers ended with a victory for the principals, who landed 29 brown trout. The teachers landed 26. As it turned out, the senior member’s stories about the fishing in these lakes were the real deal.