John Stephens starts the first part in a series of articles about a trip to Croatia and the River Kupa.
5.00 am, and the sky is a peerless blue dome. Jet vapour trails crisscross over southwest London. Our trip to Croatia starts here on a morning in early June. At 6.30 am we load our gear into the Toyota Prius that whisks us silently away to Heathrow Terminal 5.
The BA flight to Zagreb (£150 rtn) leaves at 8.30, so there’s bags of time to grab a few essentials for our host and guide; he’s partial to a drop of the Irish, so that’s top of the list.
The flight is two hours and twenty minutes, just enough time to have coffee and munch on a warm ham and cheese breakfast bun, in between the non stop banter about rods and reels and lines and flies. We are both caught in that very special state of eager anticipation which follows the weeks of research and planning that goes into any foreign fishing trip. And now that we are on our way the adrenalin is up.
We’re off to fish the River Kupa, in the mountainous region of the Gorski Kotar, north-west Croatia. Located in the most western part of the Dinaric Alps, with 63% of its surface covered in dense forest, this has to be one of the most spectacularly wild places left in mainland Europe. Commonly known as the green lungs of Croatia it is home to a rare and diverse fauna, including: red deer, roe deer, chamois, pine martin, stone martin, brown bears, grey wolves, wild boar and the lynx, and to top that there are over 500 species of butterfly!
River Kupa Valley
The Kupa valley and the river that snakes through it form a natural border between Croatia and Slovenia. Beneath craggy limestone canyons the crystal waters cascade and tumble. In places it spreads lazily through long glides, offering deep volcanic looking pools, formed in the ancient limestone bed. Here you just might spot, at surprisingly close quarters, the grayling of your dreams, holding station in a deep green lagoon, the essence of perfect stillness, its fins seemingly static in the flow. It is amazing how close you can get to these fish, but catching one is another story. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Frustration, accompanied by a few choice Anglo-Saxon expletives, isn’t the word.
River Kupa Grayling
12 noon local time we touch down at Zagreb airport. Through security, baggage collection and pick up our hire car (£110.00 for seven days). The route west takes us out of Zagreb on the E65 in the direction of Rijeka. The trip is 144 kms and takes just over ninety minutes. We are heading for the River Kupa Lodge, (http://www.riverkupalodge.com) located in a little place called Turke, some 15 kms along the river from the border town of Brod na Kupi. A missed turning takes us to the border crossing, but a quick about turn and we are back on track, heading out through the Kupa valley toward Turke and the fishing lodge.
The Border Crossing at Brod na Kupi
It’s a picturesque snake of a drive through forested gorges and scattered hamlets. Every now and then there’s an enticing glimpse of the river; water cascading over a massive weir, long flat glides, a boiling froth of white water spilling down into a deep blue pool. It all looks so fishy; we just can’t wait to get down there and cast a fly.
The River Kupa
Then around a bend the steep wooded valley opens out into meadows, with little houses dotted here and there. A sign ‘To Fishing Lodge’ tells us we have arrived. We take a left turn up along a narrow road that passes through fields of knee high grass and right there and then the little hamlet welcomes us in with open arms. Half a dozen houses, farms buildings and old barns are nestled beneath a little white church on the hill, high above, like a cake with icing on top. This is Turke.
We pull up outside a large three-story house with pretty blue shutters and a sign proclaiming River “Kupa” Lodge. We have arrived. No sooner are we out of the car than a huge bear of a man with a beaming smile calls us forward.
The River Kupa Lodge
“Come in, come in, “ he gestures from the gate. “Bring your car around the side of the house. You can park, it’s better, in the driveway at the back.”
This is Zac, our host and our guide. He beams and clasps our hands in a warm and welcoming handshake. He is a very physical and affectionate man. A gentle giant.
“Welcome, welcome. Come and have a drink, something to eat before you bring in your things. I show you the Lodge, your accommodation.”
We are shown into the lodge dining room, where Zac, a former chef and restaurateur, prepares and serves the River Kupa Lodge fare. Over a beer and sandwiches, Zac explains that we have a choice of self-catering, bed and breakfast with the option of dinner for 10 Euro with the caveat that confirmation of this option is needed the night before.
Given that the nearest town is 15 kms away, we figure the dinner option is a must-have. Zac goes on to tell us about the river, the fishing and the permits we require. To fish the Kupa a daily permit costing 35 euro is needed. Zac sells the permits on behalf of the local angling association; permits to fish tributaries of the Kupa can also be purchased in Brod na Kupi.
By the time we have done a quick tour of the lodge and unpacked our bags and gear it's late afternoon and we are itching to get to the river. On go the waders, and with rods rigged we follow our guide down the lane and across the road to the river. It's three minutes away! Bliss.
The Cable Bridge at Turke
Zac takes us to a rickety looking bridge; wooden planks suspended on rusty wire cables hang precariously across the void, above a bend in the river. It looks just like something from Crocodile Dundee or Raiders of the Lost Arc. On the far side there is a concrete block and a no entry sign. Welcome to Slovenia.
Zac strides out onto the bridge, stepping over some missing planks. We stare after him in disbelief. He beams back at us.
“Come on, it’s ok. No problem.” He reaches out a hand, ever the confident, helpful guide.
Dave and I step gingerly over the missing planks onto the swaying cable structure, white knuckles gripping the rust crusted hand-rail. The whole thing wobbles alarmingly beneath our feet; its got a life of its own.
Up river from the bridge a long boulder strewn island divides the flow. On the Slovenian side there is a narrow channel of slack water. The Croatian side offers a bed of shallow volcanic looking pools and riffles, which ends in a rocky fall where the water drops three feet into a broad turquoise pool.
The pool spreads out beneath us. We peer down into the deep blue water. In its depths dark shadows lurk. They look to be upwards of 10lbs or more.
Zac points down at them and beams. We stare open mouthed.
“Hucho,” he says. “Danube Salmon. We fish for them in winter with lures: big bullheads. You don’t catch them now. It’s not the season. Season is 1st October till 14th February. I catch here and in deep pools up the river. I show you. Now is time for grayling.”
The Bridge Pool at Turke
He points down toward the tail of the pool, where the deep blue water lightens over a pale gravel bar, which rises in a kind of beach.
“Here, here are the grayling,” says Zac. “Look see, here and here. They stay in the channels and catch the food coming to them, just like on a conveyer. They don’t need to move, just pick it up as it comes to them.”
As we watch we see the grey shadows begin to rise.
“See, now they are rising. Now is the time for the dry fly. You go, I show you, down the bankside there between the trees. Easy wading at the back of the pool. You can wade out to where the riverbed drops off, there is a big ledge there, but take care not to go too far. Is deep. Is very deep.”
Zac takes us back along the road to where a steep rocky path gives access to the shallow tail of the bridge pool.
We clamber down through the trees. Zac hands us the rods. The river here passes over moss encrusted limestone, with its strange volcanic like geology. There are lots of boulders too! Covered in slippery brown algae. After the first few slithering steps we are both on guard.
“Careful wading, is slippery here,” Zac warns. “Small steps.”
Yep, we got that. Thanks.
This is felt sole terrain. My sticky rubber soles, bought for my trip to New Zealand, aren’t really up to it. So extra care is the order of the day, or evening should I say. The light is starting to fade now the day draws toward night and the dusk begins to fall along the valley.
“You don’t need to wade too deep,” Zac advises, pointing to the growing number of rings that are appearing in the pool. “The fish are right here in the shallow water, no need for a big cast. Short casts, they catch fish.”
Our guide and host gives us his last fishing instruction of the evening; which will be his mantra throughout our visit.
“Short casting catches more fish.”
As he heads off to the lodge he calls back to us:
“It gets dark at 9.00. So, I have dinner for you at 9.30. Is ok?”
“Is ok,” we affirm, our minds now focused on rod and line and fly.
It feels just great to be here at last, watching the fly line unfurl across the darkening lagoon. The scene is just breathtaking; the river spilling down over the rocks beneath the cable bridge above, and above that the towering limestone crags and a fading water-colour wash of an evening sky reflected back in the flat calm of the pool. Rings of bright water grow all around us. We are here and the ladies have come out to play.
Zac’s Foam CDC Sedge
We’re not sure what they are taking, but the size 16 CDC foam sedge that Zac has given us seems to do the business. My first cast and a bright little lady dimples the water three yards in front of me and obligingly takes my fly. There’s a brief but feisty tussle and my first River Kupa grayling comes to hand. And what a pretty little fish she is; silvery gray with black spots and pinkish blush along her sides.
River Kupa Grayling
Two casts later and Dave is into his first fish. It’s a carbon copy that takes him off into the faster water behind us. Once there it is a struggle to keep control, for these little fish can fight well above their size. We are fishing light, Stroft GTM 0,10, and as we later find to our cost, it’s all too easy to lose a good fish in the fast water.
We fish on into the dusk. The feeding frenzy increases in intensity as the light bleeds from the sky. At one point there are fish all around us, with a take on almost every other cast, the fly is taken within a foot of the drift. The takes are fast and furious and it is easy in all the excitement to miss the fish.
And then, as if someone has pulled the plug, the rises cease and all is still. Only the bats are left swooping through the gloom. Suddenly the light is gone and we are left to stumble around the perimeter of the pool toward the trees and the climb back to the road.
But what a brilliant evening it’s been. We are both more than happy with our first taste of the Kupa. Back at the Lodge Zac has prepared a delicious spaghetti bolognaise. It goes down a treat with a few glasses of the excellent Kupa River Lodge house red, followed by a glass or two of his uncle’s famous schnapps.
River Kupa Lodge House Red
The rest of the evening is spent in a happy haze, talking over places to fish and trips to the Risnjek National Park where the River Kupa rises from two deep springs. Here the big ladies lurk in those deep volcanic channels that run through the forested canyons.
But that is for another day…
To find out more click here to visit The Kupa River Lodge website