Interview and CD review online at jazzconvention.net

The Italian jazz site JazzConvention (J.C.) has just published an interview with a couple of the Jazz & Fly Fishing guys. Read it, and you’ll find answers to questions such as “If each of you were a fish, which fish would it be?” or “Who, among you, has the best score in fishing?”

There’s also a review of our album, and here’s an excerpt:

 
Pianist (Joona) Toivanen provides mainstreamed and Blue Note sound-influenced compositions, perfectly crafted for jazz club gigs, Hatch and Czech Nymph, while Stubø focus on landscape-designing slide guitars on Lahppoluobbal and Slow Walking Water. Again, In All Lights On and Attrapp, Toivanen puts away his acoustic piano, showing a groovier personality on Wurlitzer and Rhodes, while pushing the rhythm section to speed-up its support, as in the case of Tapani Toivanen, who performed solid and creative bass lines all the time. Hamrå, instead, possesses a surprisingly, at least for a drummer, melodic sensibility, expressed in the quiet opening track Something or in the Gospel-like Last Station.

The JFF rehearsal room

 

Signs of Life

After a long, dark winter things are finally starting to look better. Today it’s vernal equinox, and the lighter 6 months are ahead of us! Two weeks ago I saw the first flying insects this year, me and Fredrik have filled our fly boxes for the seatrout season, and the lakes are inevitably losing their ice cap. Good times ahead!

Video: Iris

This is what I´ve been working on the last couple of days. I have nightmares about eyes now…
The music is a piece called “Göteborg”, written and performed by Jazz & Fly Fishing. I remixed it a bit.

Hope you like it!

Sick as a Dog

Great Success!

Spring is here (well, sort of). And the first scent of spring always brings an ustoppable urge to go fishing.
Where? Not important. How? Not important. For what? Not important either. Since most lakes and streams are still frozen solid up here, early spring fly fishing in Scandinavia usually means fishing in the ocean for sea trout (sea run brown trout).

Sea trout fishing in the ocean can be a tricky buisness (just look at this video). The ocean is huge. The sea trout isn´t. And to make matters even worse, there aren´t too many of them, either. So what this kind of fishing usually boils down to is casting some kind of big fly into the ocean for hours and hours, covering huge areas in search of your prey. Once you do find the fish, it´s pretty straightforward – this time of year, most sea trout have just returned to the ocean after spending the winter months in freshwater, and they´re literally starving. Most of the time, they´ll attack anything that moves. But finding them can sometimes be a bit of a problem, especially if you don´t know the areas you´re fishing really well.

For this year´s debut, I had high expectations. Fredrik Leth, an experienced sea trout enthusiast who co-runs the blog fiskesnakk, invited me to join him on a trip to some of the finest sea trout spots in south-eastern Norway. Once there, we would hook up with Knut and Kjetil from the blog Fluebanden. Both Kjetil and Knut are serious sea trout bums with extensive local knowledge and countless fishing days on the coast all year round. With fishing guides like these, catching a sea trout should be possible.

It all started well. Fredrik picked me up at 06.00 saturday morning (!), and as we sped down towards the silver coast, Knut and Kjetil reported over the phone that their dawn fishing session had been OK, with two decent fish landed already. Fredrik drove slightly faster.

On arrival, the weather looked very promising: thin cloud cover, very little wind, +7 degrees and rising. Hands trembling, we tackled up and hurried down to the shore to meet Knut and Kjetil, who greeted us with some freshly brewn coffee. After the good fishing at dawn, things had slowed down for them, so the duo suggested trying a new place just a few hundred meters away.

The place was a gorgeous sight for a sea trout fisherman: a large, shallow bay, wadeable all over, with several reefs and rocks creating little currents. The bottom was a mixture of sand, rocks, seaweed and clay. A textbook sea trout spot! A few casts later, what must have been a good-sized sea trout gave my fly a serious pull, and I started thinking that this was really going to be a trip to remember. However, an hour or so passed with absolutely no action at all, and the wind was really starting to pick up, so when a raving mad local lady came to chase us away (she obviously lives under the impression that she actually owns the sea), we decided to change location.

At this point in my little story I have to go a little bit back in time. Three days, to be precise. At 4 AM on wednesday morning, the unpleasant but familiar sound of a human being throwing up awoke me. I looked left, at my wife. She was sleeping. I looked right, at my three year old son. He was not sleeping. To avoid going further into detail, I´ll just tell you that he had gotten what we call “Omgangssyke” in Norwegian. I believe it´s simply called “stomach flu” in English. Omgangssyke is a a harmless but highly contagiuous virus disease that causes symptoms similar to food poisoning. It´s very common among kindergarten kids, at least here in Scandinavia. I believe the proper name for the virus is Norovirus. Anyway, you get the picture. After my wife and I had taken care of my son, I must admit that one of the first three thoughts that struck my mind was “Damn it, I´m probably gonna get it, too, and then I won´t be able to go fishing on saturday”. Much to my surprise, I was still fit as a fiddle when Fredrik picked me up on saturday morning.

Back to the story: While we were walking towards the car to drive to the next spot, I suddenly felt really sick and stopped walking. Ten seconds later, I was crawling around on the beach with a waterfall of vomit cascading out of my mouth, producing loud, guttural noises. Sick as a Dog.

Most of the remaining part of the trip is covered in a kind of dreamy haze for me. We tried one gorgeous sea trout spot after the other, made thousands of casts, but had very slow fishing. The wind got worse and worse. Kjetil caught a thin trout on one of the spots – it probably came straight from the river – but other than that nothing happened. As for me, I tried to fish as much as I could, but had to take breaks every time I felt sick again, so my stamina wasn´t very good. And if there´s one thing you need in this kind of fishing, it´s stamina.

An hour or so before sunset, we were back where we started. Fredrik and Kjetil decided to try a small, very shallow bay just by the parking lot. It sure didn´t look like much, with a road on one side and lots of boats and docks on the other, and since there wasn´t room for more than two or three fishermen there, Knut and I decided to try the same spots we fished earlier that morning instead. No luck. We fished for half an hour without a single pluck, so when Kjetil and Fredrik didn´t show up, we went to check if their luck was better. And it was! Their little bay was full of fish – mostly relatively small sea trout, but Fredrik had caught a beautiful fish around 1 kg. Mustering my last ounce of strength, I dragged my body onto a small dock and started casting. A few casts later, I felt a take, and a beautiful sea trout came to the net. Not a big fish by any means, but a decent sea trout in good condition, all silvery and beautiful. What a triumph! Victory at last. Totally beat, I just sat down to watch the other guys fish. The fish were feeding hard, and the guys had some action-packed minutes until the sun went down.

It´s hard to draw any kind of moral from this story. Maybe it´s just a story of misfortune – being that sick on the first fishing trip of the season is definitely bad luck. On the other hand, I was really lucky, too: I got to meet Fredrik, Kjetil and Knut, who turned out to be really cool people. They generously took me to some of their best spots and provided me with the right flies (I owe you one, guys!). And I also caught a beautiful sea trout. On top of that I got to see some beautiful scenery and I got a very thorough body cleansing for free. What more can you ask for?

Casting in the park

Last week the snow almost melted away. Spring is slowly coming, just a few more weeks and it will be green everywhere. A couple of days ago I went up to a park close to where I live. I brought a #5 rod and an old yellow DT-line. Thought it would be a good idea to get in shape after the long winter. Since this happened during a weekday, I expected no one to be there. I was wrong.

When I was setting up rod, line and so on, people started to invade the area. Not because I was there of course, this was just regular;  runners, bikers, old people, dogs and… children. Small children, a whole bunch of them. I tried to act natural and invisible. This is my area, I tried to think. You guys stay close to the path. Keep your dogs close to you and far away from me. Children – stay where you are and be quiet, please…

When I made the first cast, 20 small happy faces turned in my direction. When the line cut through the air the second time, all of the children ran towards me. A lot of questions attacked me, here are some of them:

Who are you?

Why do you have beard?

Do you like beard?

Do you catch any fish?

Are you alone?

I tried to answer the kids and at the same time keep focus on the fly and the fly line. Do not let them take the line. Just in case one of them would try to grab the fly, I mended the line a couple of meters away from them. Big mistake. Something that moves. Fun. Lets catch it. All of the children started to hunt the fly (actually it was just a small piece of yarn). Their teacher could not be seen anywhere. I don´t like to scream and it looked quite fun. They ran very fast and right before the fastest of them reached the line, I moved it. They ran after, laughing and stumbling. It actually looked like a giant school of fish! They were biting on everything. I was fishing again. Finally! Fishing for children, hm… that came out totally wrong. Anyway, It all lasted for a couple of minutes. Then the teacher came and started to scream. “Leave the guy alone, he is fishing”. I started to cast again.

A couple of minutes later an old guy was moving towards me. He looked friendly but you never know. He went a little bit too close before he opened his mouth.”Are you using a 0.15 leader” he said. “Ah, no this is 0.30, fishing on grass you know… ”

During one hour a lot of people talked to me. It became a nice beginning of the season. Next time I´ll bring the net. /F

 

Sigur Ros, Karahnjukar and the Alta River

We all hate it when beautiful, untouched waters are ruined by hydroelectric powerplants. But too few of us try to do something to prevent it.

The other day, I stumbled upon this video from 2007 featuring the great Icelandic rock band Sigur Ros. Protesting against the building of an enormous dam project called the Kárahnjúkar Hydropower Plant, Sigur Ros did a beautiful acoustic performance in the mountain valley that would later be totally drowned. 

Check it out:

It might seem like Sigur Ros protested to no avail. The Karahnjukar powerplant was built, creating the largest dam of its kind in Europe and destroying a huge, pristine wilderness area, along with two beautiful mountain rivers: Jökulsá á Dal and Jökulsá í Fljótsdal. While thinking about this makes me really sad, I still find some comfort in the fact that some people are at least trying to do something. And more importantly, I also believe that actions like this can actually make a difference by making it harder for the developers to get their will in the future.

The Alta Uprising in Norway (1979-1982) is a good example of this. Despite fierce and sometimes violent protests by environmentalists, fishermen, the Sami people (the indigenous people of the area) and many others, the Norwegian government decided to go through with their plans, and built a huge dam and powerplant in one of the very best salmon rivers in the world, the legendary Alta river.

However, the protests had two very important consequences:

1) The project ended up a lot smaller than originally planned, effectively saving the salmon population, which is doing just fine at the moment – the Alta river still holds the largest Salmo Salar in the world. The original version of the project would have been devastating for the river´s unique salmon population.

2) After the Alta Uprising, large-scale hydro power became a highly controversial issue among Norwegian voters, and thus politically impossible. The Alta project became the last big river powerplant built in Norway to date.

Did you see the RISE?

 

Now’s the time for the RISE Fly Fishing Film Festival again here in Europe! This is a wonderful opportunity to support people who put a lot of their dedication, time and effort to making fishing films! Go there and you’ll meet crazy people crazy about crazy things (well, probably mostly hairy men watching other hairy men on a big screen wearing rubber pants. Only occasional ooohs and aaahs by the male choir break the mutual, concentrated silence).

If you really want to put all your cards in, let this be the setting for a first date.

Check out www.flyfishingfilmfestival.eu for all tour information, videos, photos and more.

Meet you at the Gothenburg show this Saturday!