I remember the first time I heard about the Baltic salmon. Juan Salgado, my fishing partner, was immersed in one of his erratic loops after watching a fly fishing short film based on Swedish Lapland. It was the year 2016, one of the largest runs ever recorded in the Torne River, with over 100,000 salmon ascending this vast basin that separates Sweden from Finland. Unprecedented numbers linked to fishing restrictions in the Baltic Sea and the areas surrounding the estuaries, which led to an almost exponential growth in Baltic salmon populations. The video perfectly reflected two key ingredients to get two young salmon fishermen off the couch: adventure and salmon weighing over 15 kilograms.
Of course, at that time, we knew nothing more about this destination, but we would soon fix that. Articles talked about wild, immense rivers with high flow rates. About the largest and most powerful salmon on Earth, hypertrophied by a diet rich in herring in the waters of the Baltic Sea, where they migrate and where they were isolated from their Atlantic brothers after the last ice age. They told stories of lost battles, hundreds of meters of backing spooled out at full speed, and hooks bent like clay. They also spoke of their peculiar character, shyer and more apathetic than their counterparts on the other side of the Skagerrak strait. And above all, they inspired to get lost in a land without borders, where there are still kilometers of unexplored rivers. Of course, three years later and after a lot of planning, Juan and I were packing our bags.
There we were, with a project in hand and eager to conquer the Baltic. The conditions were favorable, and Sanna was waiting for us in a small local shop to equip us with everything we needed for 24 hours of non-stop fishing. An hour of driving through pine forests and 23 reindeers later, we arrived at the chosen stretch. From the top of a steep cliff, the view was overwhelming. The river, challenging and powerful, had carved the wall on which we stood, and beneath it, a pool of water as dark as peat surely harbored some of the precious Baltics we dreamed of. As we set up our gear and lit a small fire, a cocktail of sandflies and mosquitoes feasted on us. Shortly after, the sound of a first splash indicated that we were right: they were there.
Sanna rowed with the decisiveness and confidence of someone accustomed to such a task. As we crossed the river in that boat that leaked generously, we subjected her to a thorough interrogation. Sanna had been fishing for salmon in Lapland for almost a month without interruption, and she was still waiting for the first of the season. She was in one of those crises where success eludes you. She spoke of lost battles, bent hooks, exploded tippets, sleepless nights without seeing any sign of a fish, and others where the run was intense but, for some reason, the fish didn't want to cooperate. "Believe me, Baltic salmon are different from Atlantic ones. You'll end up agreeing with me.”
Hardly half an hour later, that same discouraging voice exploded into shouts of excitement as she tried to hold onto a fish racing towards the pool at full speed. Minutes later, Juan and I were aware of one of the greatest explosions of happiness we had ever experienced. After all, it was no small feat. All that effort, all those repressed feelings, finally released by having that fish in her hands. As tradition dictates, it had to be celebrated. The night was young, but it was already getting chilly. A good fire, sausages, beer, and a few sips of whiskey to ward off the cold and enjoy the moment.
The fire still crackled, and that feeling of success and camaraderie ran through us, but my ears couldn't stop hearing the continuous jumps of the salmon. In the pool, just a few meters from us, the Baltic salmon were still head and tailing every now and then, taunting us, inviting us to continue the adventure. And so I did.
I apologized to Juan and Sanna, who were still finishing their last drink, and went down to try my luck. Minutes later, both of them were running down the hill to rescue me. Juan took the honors and skillfully tailed a beautiful female measuring 103cm, inaugurating a magical night to remember. Two more salmon would follow, and with the whole group having a salmon to dream off, we decided to call it a day in the early hours of the morning, in one of those Lapland dawns where the mist covers the river, and all activity comes to zero. It was time to let it rest.
That night, while we still struggled to fall asleep in the tent due to the adrenaline and the cold creeping into our sleeping bags, we couldn't imagine that the next day, a radiant sun would wake us up and never leave us for the rest of our week. The following day, the water temperatures had already reached close to 20 degrees. Game Over. Although it may seem strange, in recent years, these types of episodes have occurred in these latitudes with some frequency, perhaps indicating that something is changing on our planet. In Lapland, these heatwaves have a strong impact on the rivers. The sun shines for almost 24 hours, and soon the temperatures make fishing inadvisable, both for the chances of success and for the well-being and recovery of possible catches.
Nevertheless, a year later, Juan and I returned to finish what we had started. We still didn't agree with Sanna's assertion that the Baltics were special, and we attributed the previous year's outcome to weather conditions. Therefore, having learned our lesson, we waited for favorable predictions and jumped on a last-minute flight to Luleå. There we were again, ready to explore the vastness of the boreal forest and its rivers in search of the elusive Baltic salmon. Ten days and nine nights later, after giving it our all, tired, with few hours of sleep and uncountable mosquito bites, we returned home with our tails between our legs. What had happened? We didn't understand. Everything seemed OK, and we even found some areas with quite a few fish, but we barely got any reaction, and when we did, we lost in the hand-to-hand fight. Was Sanna right?
Back in Lapland, this time in prime time for a project for Guideline at the beginning of the season. Cold waters, high rivers, but some of the largest salmon you can imagine ascending the Baltic rivers. They say that the wildest dreams require efforts of equal magnitude, and of course, I was willing to find out. After three days with hardly any sleep, with hundreds of kilometers on those dusty and muddy tracks through endless forests, and more casts than one can count, I had a revelation. In the form of a salmon, of course. In the middle of a perfect "V," a slow-motion head and tail made me turn off the stove where I was preparing a coffee to gear up for another night of work. Such a sight always makes you shake. If the salmon is one of the largest you've ever seen in your life, the struggle is real. I know my gear can handle it well, but I need a very long cast, almost at my limit. What flowed smoothly half an hour before becomes a maddening exercise. The fish reappears. Maybe it'll be there a couple more minutes. Or maybe not. No one knows anything for sure about these fish. I focus, and finally, the cast I need come out. The swing is wonderful, and the fly fishes every inch of the swing. When my fly reaches the center, the fish shows up again. Perhaps excited by my Phatagorva? I repeat the cast, and it happens again. Five times. Five. Five heart-stopping attacks.
The sixth is an impact. An impact and then chaos. A fish heading straight back to where it came from: the Baltic Sea. Before I could even take the first step to search for the bank, the fish was already on the backing. Five hundred meters downstream and after fifteen minutes of chase, I finally gain control of the fight. I finally see the shooting line; I finally see him. Majestic and solid, blending all his silver in the reddish waters of the pool. A sight that could well be worth a lifetime chasing after.
I remember it perfectly, as perfectly as one remembers things that could have been but weren't. A few seconds later, it simply left. And along with it, five other fish in the following week. Five. None as big, none as special, but each and every one of them beat me in hand-to-hand combat. Each with its own particular story, but a certainty was forming in my head: "Sanna was right.”
I've always thought that in fishing and in life, everything is about working to be in the right moment and place. Buying tickets to win the lottery, as we would colloquially say, and learning in the process. This time, a couple of months later, it seemed we had them all. Lapland and Baltic salmon were finally favorable to us again, like on that magical welcome night with Juan and Sanna, but this time with a taste of farewell in the backend of the season. A magical week, alongside my friend David Fernández Miguélez, with numbers closer to the imaginary than to the reality of the Baltic rivers. It was as if these rivers wanted to give us back all the hours, all the effort, and energy that we had put trying to understand them. As if they knew that my three seasons chasing Baltic salmon were coming to an end.
Lapland and its salmon had changed me forever. That morning, soaked to the bone, holding onto that fish, I felt the same as three years ago when I caught my first Baltic salmon. Only this time I understood the value of what had just happened.
LPX Chrome Double hand er superlette tohåndsstenger med en helt ny type aksjon som kobler deg på i kastet på en helt ny måte. C.A.P M4.0™ teknologi leverer ultralette klinger med suveren stabilitet og responsivitet.
Les merLPX Chrome 4-PC
8 199.00 NOK
Guideline Halo fluesneller i fargen Black Stealth har markedsledende kvaliteter i sin prisklasse: mykt-, stabilt- og vanntett bremsesystem, hel ramme, attraktivt design og modeller for alle typer fluefiske.
Les merHalo Black Stealth
3 899.00 NOK
Våre beste vadebukser er spekket med praktiske løsninger, har høy slitestyrke og er laget for deg som fisker mye. Vanntett glidelås i front fra det tyske firmaet TIZIP.
Modellen vår er 184 cm / 78 kg (6´1 "/ 172 lbs) og har på seg størrelse Medium Long.
Alta NGx Zip Wader
8 999.00 NOK
Alta NGx vadesko med Vibram® Idrogrip™ er laget for å tilby et nytt nivå av komfort, stabilitet og holdbarhet.
Les merAlta NGx Boot Vibram
2 699.00 NOK
Guideline Lærdal vadere er designet for kvinnelige sportsfiskere, med fokus på praktiske detaljer, varme, komfort og bevegelighet. Tilgjengelig både i standardstørrelser samt queen-modeller med en mer generøs passform.
Modellen vår med rød jakke er 178cm/85kg (5´10"/187lbs) og har på seg vadere i størrelse Large Queen.
Women´s Laerdal Wader
4 999.00 NOK
Med Women´s Lærdal vadesko har vi en komplett vadekolleksjon spesifikt designet for damer. Støvlene er lette og har god passform, men de er samtidig stabile med ekstra komfort og støtte rundt anklene.
Les merWomen´s Laerdal Boot Vibram
2 699.00 NOK
