Ancient and imposing, the snow encrusted mountains that surround the Fjords of the Troms region in Northern Norway stand like ice sentinels, watching over some of the most stunning scenery that you could ever hold a fishing rod in. In these white, hard-boned lands, the sun disappears in November and does not reappear until late February. Despite its reputation for being a dark place, the light here is special: in mid-winter, locals talk about the special ‘blue light’ that bathes the landscape; on special, clear nights, strange lights dance across the sky in the most spectacular show on earth; in high summer, it is light twenty-four hours a day. For millennia, in this frozen landscape, under the mystical aurura, the mountains have stood guard over the fjord and a special fish that swims in its arctic waters.   Unchanged since prehistoric times, the mountains form a giant amphitheatre that give way to saltwater lagoons sheltered from harsh winds on all sides:  clear and pure, despite the low temperature the saltwater  here provides rich feeding for a number of species of fish, the most famous of them all being the cod.  As I stood on the deck of the Tromso Explorer, a fishing catamaran operating out of Skjervoy, I was overwhelmed by the feeling that my presence was but the blink of an eye in the millennia that followed the formation of the region during the last ice age. A dot floating on the calm waters in a towering landscape, I was playing out a timeless scene that had taken place since prehistoric men first paddled out in crude boats to try their luck in the fish-rich waters of the fjord.

 

The current landscape in the Northern Norwegian Fjords was formed during the last ice age.  Looking up at snow-capped mountains it is easy to imagine the ice age because in many ways Northern Norway is still in it, yet it has not always been that way.  Indeed, before the last ice age, Northern Norway was a tropical landscape where dinosaurs ruled the lands and the seas:  the island of Svalbard in Northern Norway, famed for its population of polar bears, has more dinosaur remains than any other place in Europe- testimony to the fact that where mountains and glaciers now dominate, the landscape a few million years ago was covered in tropical forest. Many years later, when the glaciers had covered the landscape and turned it into an arctic wilderness, the area around North Troms was home to tribes and strange peoples, notably the Vikings (it is the most northerly point that the Vikings are known to have colonised) and the island peoples, natives with origins thought to be in Mongolia. These native peoples lived and worked in an environment that is so harsh even to this day that it is impossible to imagine how life must have been. Ruled by a mystical Shamani, some of the islanders were totally cut-off and they remain reclusive even in the 21^st century. Their customs and ways remain something of a mystery: they lived in caves and studied the heavens (there are rocks positioned on the island to coincide with the summer solstice) and their behaviour has many parallels with the druids. In modern times, the island communities hang on to their secrets and live their lives pretty much as they have done for thousands of years.

As I lowered a two hundred and fifty gramme pirk into the icy turquoise tinted water I felt the sting of ice crystals hitting my face: driven by a cold wind from Valhalla, the stiff Northerly lifted snow from the nearby mountains and spat its icy breath in my face. Late March and I was fishing with more layers on than an onion and a pair of serious gloves. Skipper, Holger Buricke had carefully positioned Tromso Explorer on the edge of a drop-off that saw the water gradually give way from around a hundred feet to over three hundred. The drop off, faithfully rendered in colour on the sonar unit, displayed the clusters of bright colour near to the bottom line that denoted one thing: ‘cod…’ Holger pointed a finger at the screen ‘and they are dead close to the bottom.’

 Moments later I felt the satisfying ‘thunk’ of the metal jig hitting the sandy bottom some two hundred feet below and, as I made the first sweep of the rod, I tried to picture dinosaurs in this winter landscape: where seagulls now wheeled and croaked, I imagined pterodactyls and whilst it was easy to visualise giant, razor-toothed scaly monsters below, the idea of a brontosuarus lumbering round the corner seemed a little far-fetched. A tap of interest from below brought me back into reality, just a knock ,but then, when I lowered the rod ,it was hit hard and fast. A sharp lift of the rod set the hooks into something solid just as a sea eagle swept down from its home among the icy crags to set the gulls scattering and cawing: as I bent into my first arctic cod, the eagle stooped and scoped its prize – a fish carcass that the gulls had been squabbling over only moments before only to see it snatched away.  Two fishermen, different techniques, same reult…

Like the eagle’s mine  wasn’t a big fish, perhaps a few pounds at best but it was an arctic cod, a fish that is perfectly at home in the deep, hostile, freezing cold waters that line the Troms region of Norway. It was a beautiful fish – spotted and displaying beautiful colours. Skipper Holger took one look at the fish and declared it to be eagle fodder – apparently he always keeps a few small ones to feed the eagles.

 Holger, a German by birth, has lived in Troms since 2003 and if his passion for photographing eagles is matched only by his love of his family, fishing and the Nordlys or Northern Lights.  A few hours later, with a pair of sea eagles in sight, Holger stopped the boat and pitched the fish overboard. ‘Get your camera ready!’ he told me just as the first gulls began to mob the bait. ‘They can’t lift the fish,’ he said, binoculars raised to his eyes ‘they will attract the eagle!’ Moments later, I watched slack jawed as one of the magnificent birds peeled away and stooped toward the water, its talon outstretched. ‘Here she comes!’ Holger grinned just as the white tailed bird that stands at waist height plucked the cod from the water as delicately as we might pick a grape from the bunch…

Watching a sea eagle take a fish from the water is just one of the treats that arctic Norway seems to offer on an almost daily basis. To be honest, as good as the fishing turned out to be, it was hard for me to concentrate after the first night I had spent in the region under Holger’s guiding influence. Above anything else, I had gone to Troms to see and photograph the Northern Light. As a photographer I am captivated by them and I have dedicated many nights in the past few winters whilst staying at our house in Norway to trying to capture images of the aurora. And now, after  years of seeing moderate displays I was heading to the Mecca of the Nordlys, Troms, where, at 70 degrees North, when the northern light dances it dances overhead,  not just on the horizon. For two weeks or more I had been restless. The websites predicted a reasonable display of Northern light on two of the nights of my three night stay but any seasoned aurora photographer will tell you that the classic Northern lights display will only be witnessed when the skies are clear and, sadly, the weather forecast was not good.

Many Norwegians believe that the Aurora is caused by cold weather for it is in cold conditions, under the influence of high pressure, when the skies are most often clear enough to see it. Yet, the weather on earth has nothing to do with the formation of the aurora – that is dictated by solar winds that blast particles toward the earth from solar storms that take place on our own sun. The result, when the particles hit the earth’s atmosphere is an aurora of unimaginable beauty. I have seen the Northern lights many times but it took a special night in Northern Norway, near to Spokenes, to see how truly spectacular they can be. I had glimpsed the first Northern light at eight in the evening, just after we, Holger and myself, had left my hotel, cameras at the ready, fingers well and truly crossed. I was excited to note that despite heavy daytime cloud, the skies had cleared just as Holger had predicted they would on the four hour drive up from Tromso.

The display lasted until after three o’ clock in the morning, starting with a few weak rays of green light before building up to a crescendo that would eclipse any laser or firework display and certainly beyond anything that I could have hoped for. We saw rays, halos and hanging curtains of light pulsing and dancing over a white mountain backdrop and, as if that wasn’t dazzling enough, the grand finale, that lasted fully an hour saw the light race high into the night sky to perform a multi-coloured ballet above our heads.   It is hard to imagine, when it really gets going, quite how bright the light is and just how quickly it moves. Directly above us it formed giant exploding coronas  (aurora watchers call these ‘angels’) that morphed into dragons, eagles and bears. Fittingly, the final shift in shape saw it form a disosaur. When natural light – green blue, pink and white, sweeps over head and bursts into coronas, making shapes in the sky before your eyes it is easy to believe that you are witnessing something mystical. ‘It’s like witnessing a Jean Michelle Jarre concert without the music!’ I once heard someone say but the truth is that seeing a good auroral display is oh, so much better than anything that can be made artificially. It is dazzling, mesmerising, breathtaking and mystical. That night, was one of the most special nights of my whole life and, thankfully, I now have the photographs to prove it.

For Holger, being a guide for the Northern lights is just part of the job: he’s just as happy to take you snowshoe walking, northern light safari or on any number of local activities but his bread and butter is fishing. And whilst I was happy to live on the memories of a magical night under the auropra, he was not going to be happy until we had hauled up a big cod. In truth, it was not going to be an easy task. The weather was changing daily, going from high to low and this, coupled with the fact that the cod were in spawning mode meant that we were trying to catch non-feeding fish. ‘They bite the pirk out of territorial aggression’ Holger told me as we winched another eagle meal on board ‘but we will get our fish if work at it.’ With just two afternoons fishing available to us I had my doubts. I had arranged the trip at short notice, knowing that it is there are better times of the year for really good fishing but waiting around in Norway for the wife to give birth means that a man has to do something to amuse himself and I could think of nothing better than this…

I suppose I should not have been unduly surprised when Holger finally declared that the heavy weight thumping around on the end of his line was a ‘decent’ fish. I’d already landed cod to over fifteen pounds and whilst these might be good cod for the British coast , in Northern Norway they are the bread and butter fish. While my companion battled with what was clearly a spirited fish I cracked off a few shots on the camera. I was surprised at how hard the cod fought and said so. ‘Oh yes…’ Holger grunted in agreement ‘they can fight a bit, especially one of the big mothers…’ And as almost thirty pounds of arctic cod came looming up through the crystal clear water I began to imagine just how big a really big cod is. The answer, apparently is that forty pound cod are common on Holger’s boat, fifty-ponders by no means rare and fish up to and over seventy pounds possible.

The mind can only boggle at the thought of a cod of that size but as I stood on the deck of the Tromso explorer and watched Holger expertly unhook a truly beautiful fish displaying bright, vibrant colours I resolved there and then that I would return for another crack. It was hard to imagine, at that moment, with deep blue skies stretching out above the white peaks of the touching-distance mountains, the water a blue mirror with just the gentlest of ripples caressing its surface and a big fish plucked from arctic waters on board the boat why you would want to be anywhere else on earth…

 

Over the years I have been on numerous fishing trips all over the world and I’ve caught fish so big and so aggressive that they have been capable of wrecking the boat. Yet, never have I fished in such a dramatic, mystical landscape: a place where strange lights dance in the sky and the world seems unchanged since ancient times.         I have to say that I am enchanted and I can’t wait to go back to Northern Norway – it is a place that makes my heart sing…

Fishing in Northern Norway
My whole Northern Norway experience was organised by the very capable Martin Founds and his company, Anglers World Holidays. You can find them at www.anglers-world.co.uk Their phone number is 01246 221717. Holger Buricke works for anglers world and is a great source of information about times of year, fishing prospects etc., you can reach Holger on hburicke@online.no Anglers World operate the Tromso explorer, a beautifully set-up catamaran that can house groups of anglers. There is on-board heating and in the relatively sheltered waters of the fjord, it provides a very, very comfortable fishing platform indeed: I would go so far as to say that it is the perfect craft to host parties of serious fishermen being equipped with sonar, radar, GPS, food and drink making facilities And plenty of deck space.
I watched the Northern light at Spakanes. That night I stayed at the Reisafjord hotel in Sorkjosen and it proved to be a superb choice. The rooms were very comfortable and the staff typically warm and friendly. The breakfast was excellent!
While fishing from our base at the island of Arnoy (Eagle Island) I stayed at Lauksletta guest house. This is truly superb anglers’ accommodation and just right for the setting. The house with its multitude of rooms is run by a delightful family for whom nothing is too much trouble. These were among the warmest, friendliest hosts I have encountered anywhere in the world and nothing was too much trouble. The family dog is truly memorable too – he’s so big that I thought that I was looking at a bear!
In short, this is the perfect holiday from anglers wishing to get away from the routine and do something truly refreshing and different. Because it is so close, the flight being just over two and half hours, it is possible to do extended trips or short breaks – a long weekend here is a mouth-watering prospect for keen sea fishermen.    
And it doesn’t cost the earth either. Frankly, considering just how ‘out there’ this experience really is, you will find it cheap at half the price.