Fishing on Lake Biel – out and about with a professional fisherman

The moon is reflected on the smooth waters of Lake Biel as Stefan Dasen deftly unties his fishing boat from the jetty. He has been up since half past four, and he does this six times a week. The only people he meets out on the lake on this rain-free morning are fellow fishermen. They all know each other, which isn’t particularly difficult as there are only eight professional fishermen on Lake Biel. And only three of the permit holders are under the age of 60.

Stefan himself has been a professional fisherman since 1997. The 53-year-old continues to run his father’s business. His father and two uncles were fishermen. When the business started in 1968, some of the boats weren’t yet motorised and Stefan’s father had to row or even set sail.

As the sun slowly climbs over the mountains and warms Stefan’s face, the idyll is complete. He lives for his outdoor profession and these moments: ‘Catching a big fish is a beautiful, but fleeting thing. For me, it’s all about the surroundings.’ But the environment isn’t always kind; bitter winds, high waves and rain are a common occurrence. And sometimes the weather is calm. But whenever Stefan is out on the lake, he’s relaxed. ‘For me, Lake Biel is a place to think about things, to be inspired with new ideas and find balance.’

He hauls the fishing nets – called bottom-set nets and anchored floating nets – out of the water with a great sense of calm. With passive fishing, you generally only catch the fish you actually want. The others can swim through, and if there’s any bycatch, Stefan doesn’t consider it to be a throwaway product. On the contrary: ‘White fish is a typical bycatch and it’s good battered. We sell a lot of them, too.’ This morning, perch, zander and blue whitefish are also caught in the various nets. Lake Biel has many species of fish, including pike. But it’s mainly whitefish. Stefan pulls around 30 to 40 kilograms of fish out of the lake every day.

Competition from the air

Fishing with no thought for the survival of the species would be senseless. Sooner or later, it would end up destroying your business. Stefan is committed to sustainable fishing and drops spawning aids in good locations for perch and zander. That can include discarded Christmas trees or ‘spawning brushes’ that are sunk into the lake. They help prevent the eggs from getting lost in the silt at the bottom. These artificial aids are retrieved after the spawning season has ended. There are prescribed closed seasons and minimum catch sizes that fishers must respect. Their catches are also closely inspected to ensure that they’re fishing the right generations of fish. The age of the fish can be determined by looking at the scales.

But the regulations don’t apply to everyone. Stefan looks up into the sky: cormorants, one of the biggest challenges in everyday fishing. Although the bird species can be hunted, they’re not particularly attractive to hunters. They took up residence here several decades ago. There are now around 2,000 breeding pairs on Lake Neuchâtel alone, says Stefan. ‘These cormorants eat three times more fish each year than the fishermen take from Lake Neuchâtel.’ A source of frustration. As a fisherman, he looks after the stock, adheres to all the applicable regulations and endeavours to maintain a sustainable fish population. ‘I also see the significant damage they do to smaller streams and rivers where fish are already struggling to survive due to water and oxygen scarcity.’ One possible solution would be to regulate the cormorants’ breeding grounds; it’s the subject of difficult discussions between the authorities, fishing associations and bird protection associations.

As he heads back towards the shore with his refrigerated crates full, a small flock of seagulls flies overhead. They circle loudly over the boat. ‘They know me,’ says Stefan. Attracted by the catch in the crates, they’re hopeful of snatching up a few fallen fish. When he arrives at the small private port, he’s greeted by a beautiful grey heron sitting on the jetty wall. He also waits here every morning, hoping Stefan will throw him a morsel to eat. At this moment, it’s clear how close to nature this family man is: ‘I love being out here.’

The water quality has changed

On the banks, the water is rather boggy and full of algae. When asked about the water quality, Stefan says: ‘Basically, it’s improved over the last few years and the fish are healthier.’ The lake used to be cloudy and brown. However, Stefan doesn’t measure the water quality by the clarity of the lake. He points out that the lake requires sufficient nutrients and the right ratio of phosphorus and nitrogen. ‘Rainfall and flooding introduce nutrients into the water.’ The evidence is increased amounts of algae in the lake – the basic food for plankton, which is essential for certain whitefish species. For Stefan, the fact that whitefish populations have grown more slowly in recent years and can only be fished when they’re much older is clearly linked to the nutrients. ‘We can’t yet predict the long-term effects of chemical pollutants from agriculture, medicines and the construction industry in our waters.’

The number of professional fishers continues to fall

The living conditions of fish are changing and, time and time again, Stefan sees evidence of nature adapting to the environment and changes in the climate. This doesn’t always have negative consequences, though; catfish and zander prefer warmer waters. However, this also means that the definition of native fish has change over the last 50 years. For Stefan, this makes it all the more important that he take care of the lake. He would like to see more understanding for the needs of fish, but also for how they’re exploited. After all, his profession depends on it: ‘No fish means no fishers.’ Net fishers are having a tough time. They have been declining in numbers for years, with just under 150 people working full-time in Switzerland, and less than ten per cent of them are women. In contrast to agriculture, for example, there are no state subsidies for net fishers.

It’s now 9 am and Stefan is making his way to the fishery where today’s catch is processed and packaged before going on sale. Stefan only sells directly to the fishery rather than individual buyers. He also helps out with a catering service: ‘So I get direct feedback on my product.’ It quickly becomes clear that there’s a lot of passion here and no room for complaints about long, hard days. ‘I would choose this profession again every time.’ He’s fascinated by the fact that he can make a living from nature. As yet, Stefan doesn’t have anyone lined up to take over his business – and he doesn’t seem fazed by this either: ‘I don’t want to fish for the rest of my life. If it’s no longer profitable, then I’ll find something new that I like.’ When asked what it takes to be a professional fisher, Stefan’s answer sounds like a traditional job description: ‘Plenty of flexibility and a solution-orientated approach.’ He adds with a laugh: ‘And it definitely takes a good dose of optimism, too.’