Beyond the Catch: Lessons on Fly Fishing, Conservation, and Filmmaking

With : tedlogardt

We recently caught up with Ted, a passionate fly fisher from northern Sweden, who’s made the sport his life’s work. From fishing the remote waters of Sweden to capturing stunning moments on camera, Ted’s journey has been nothing short of inspiring. In this interview, we talk about his evolution as a content creator, his love for the outdoors, and the lessons he’s learned along the way.

My backyard river and literally 3 minutes drive from my house.

"Ted, what initially sparked your passion for fly fishing, and how did you transition from being a casual angler to making it such a significant part of your life?"

Well, growing up in a rural place in northern Sweden in the 80ies, fishing was how you spent your summers. First spin fishing for pike and perch and when I got older and traded my bicycle for a moped I got into fly fishing. About 7 km from my house was a decent grayling stream and there and then I pretty much instantly knew that I couldn’t have fishing just as a hobby. You know, giving it a week of your holiday each year and then be done with it. I wanted it to be something more. Some 30 years later I have had fishing as part of my livelihood for pretty much all my adult life. As guide, writer and photographer, editor and in recent years I’ve been leaning more and more into filmmaking.

Good friend and long time salmon protector, Thomas Johansson SoG at the Baltic salmon fund.

"Your Instagram showcases some incredible remote fishing locations in challenging conditions. What's been your most memorable backcountry fishing experience, and what made it stand out?"

I love the north of Sweden and the accessibility to so many waters. And the never-ending summer nights, all the small dirt roads that hardly no one else ever uses, all the overgrown trails and the tumbled-down wind sheds is just the perfect framing for me. It’s hard to pick a single event as special as I think it’s the holistic approach that makes it so awesome. You know, I hate when a fishing trip is ending and that’s why I love fishing at home (I consider basically the entire north of Sweden as my home), then you can always come back tomorrow or the next day. It’s kind of a never-ending story. But of course, that day in 2019 when Lars Munk set me up with a 120-centimetre salmon at Torneälven was certainly a day to remember or when Adam Westerman and I were fishing for seatrout in northern Norway, and somehow had gotten a huge catamaran at our disposal, and Adam managed to catch a 88 centimetre fish on literally the last cast of the trip and by that securing my story for a magazine.

A snapshot of when my good friend Erik decided to talk a walk on the wild side on Torneälven in early June.

"As someone who captures stunning moments on the water, what are your top tips for photographers trying to balance fishing and getting the perfect shot without missing either opportunity?"

I think it’s hard to do both. At least on a more ambitious level. I have more or less put down the rod nowadays and really, it wasn’t that hard to do. I get just as much joy out of portraying fly fishing as a do practising it.

I’ve noticed that the photos I like the most are the ones that I’ve often snaped between those obvious moments, so I guess the tip would be not to always look for the tightest d-loop or the most impressive grin-and-grabs but the moments that tell more of the actual story of what fly fishing is really like and why we put up with everything that we do. But the most obvious tip is to hang out with awesome people who are just as passionate about fishing as you are. I’ve been extremely fortunate to fish with some of Sweden’s finest fly fishers on a regular basis throughout my carrier.

Harsch whether is always challenge and you’re constantly worrying about the electronics but it’s often under those conditions that you’re able to take spectacular photos. And time and time again, the gear have proven to work well even under pouring rain

"Ted, when it comes to creating content, do you find yourself more drawn to photography or videography, and what influences that preference when you're out on the water?"

I really love both. I started off as a stills photographer and have slowly but surely transitioned more into video. For as long as I can remember I’ve been fascinated by stories, and I think that’s my main drive. If it’s written word, a single still or a feature documentary for TV, it’s just different formats that gives you a certain framework to tell that story you have in front of you.

For the last couple of years, Emilie Björkman and I have been producing longer form documentaries, either for Swedish TV or for Youtube and those projects really gets the creativity going. It’s so much hard work and tones of hours out by the water (and even more in front of the computer), but that also means you get a lot of opportunity to create and to alter between stills and video. I think it’s a blessing getting to do what I do, and I would hate myself if I went lazy and didn’t try to get the most out of every situation that I find myself in. I think I just owe that to myself and to the incredible people I get to work with.

That 120-centimetres Baltic salmon from 2019. Biggest one I ever got. Photo: Lars Munk

"Throughout your fly fishing journey, what's been the most significant lesson you've learned about conservation and protecting the waters we fish?"

I’m heavily and emotionally invested in the Baltic salmon which has been my main output as a fly fisher for almost 25 years now. I started fishing when runs were low in the early 2000 and then got to experience the success that began in 2012, ignited by the ban of the drift nets in the Baltic Sea with huge runs as a direct consequence; up until today when we are seeing drastically drops in runs in all wild Swedish salmon rivers. This summer we’ve been working on a rather big film project covering what has happened and how this is affecting so many of us out there. We’re wrapping things up in the editing room as we speak, and if things go as planned, we will release it on Youtube in January.

That 120-centimetres Baltic salmon from 2019. Biggest one I ever got. Photo: Lars Munk

What is so striking with this story, is how quickly things can change and how slow management are reacting to these changes. I mean, this is about the Baltic salmon but the same can of course be said about the climate change or the loss of biodiversity, just on a much larger scale.

That cracking 88 centimetre sea run brown from northern Norway back in 2015.

"Your content often highlights the solitary nature of fly fishing. How do you balance creating content for social media while maintaining the peaceful, meditative aspects of the sport?

 To be honest, I never think about creating for social media (unless it’s a paid gig of course). I create mainly because that’s what I love to do; but I would be lying if a said I don’t get highly motivated, even a bit stressed out, by a big film project with somewhat of a high stake. That just adds the extra spark to the fly fishing experience. But obviously, some stuff ends up on Instagram or Facebook and if people get enjoyment out of looking at it that’s super cool, but I can’t say I’m considering the algorithm that much.

Good friend and colleague Håkan Stenlund on his way down to one of many incredible fishing places in up north I Sweden.

“Looking ahead, Ted, what's one aspect of fly fishing you're still eager to explore or master, and why?"

 There are a lot of incredibly talented creators getting more into the lifestyle of fly and I feel fly fishing is such a perfect scene to be telling great stories, not merely about fishing but also more complex, immersive and relatable stories for people who’s not yet into the lifestyle. So more and grander stories to be told, both by me (hopefully) and by other ambitious fly fishing storytellers. If I may be a bit pretentious… Since fishing isn’t about survival or putting food on the table anymore, I think stories are at the very core of fly fishing, and I think all fly fishers are out there to create stories in some sense or another — most of the time, without even reflecting on it. It’s not about content creation at all, but true stories to keep to themselves; to think back on, to save for a special occasion or to tell a certain friend or a complete stranger – or maybe, every once in a while, even to post on a social media.

Emilie Björkman at our happy place in 2022 — when we were shooting Home Rivers Recycled about the success of wild salmon in northern Sweden. 2025 it’s time for the sequel – Free falling, with a completely flipped narrative.