Pollock On FlyIt was one of those days with a thick fog belt that seemed to engulf everything around Sätervik, a small sleepy fishing townin Northern Norway. Everyone on this trip and in our small group of fly fisherman was getting sick of hunting for fish out inthe fog without any VHF and Radar sincewe almost got rammed buy a commercialfishing boat the previos night. So wedecided to go the 12 nautical milesinto port and have some drinks.When we almost had reached our campI told Gustav that we should try the pinnacles just outside the camp in a last attempt for the day. He looked at me with a stare that could have killed a man, but soon gave in because of my continuous nagging. I rigged the 8 weight fly rod with a small green and white baitfish fly patternand we started to fish the bouy that was closest to the camp. On the third cast I hooked into something big that outspooled me in less than 20 seconds. Now, everyone was back in the game for real and everybody was forgetting about the fog andfreezing weather. We made a second round around the bouy and immediatly Gustav hooked up to a big fish that wrapped his line around the Bouy. We made the next pass a bit further from the Bouy around the 20meter mark. On the last cast of the drift I felt a small bump on my fly and stripped striked into something solid. The next run made blisters on my hand when i hand breaked the reel that had lost it’s drag. I managd to stop the fish after a 100meter run. After that the fished tangled itself in the damn Kelp! We drove up to where the fish was tangled and after a little while the fish got loose from the kelp and the fight was on once more. After 30 minutes of fighting; the fish was by the boat and I could lift up a plus 6 kg Pollock. After this we went home to celebrate with loads of bear and whisky. A very bad trip had quickly been transformed into a great one!