About this Blog

Welcome to OnlySaltwaterFishing

Hey, I am Kai. I am 35, originally from Stuttgart in the south of Germany, and these days I live full-time in a VW Crafter with my wife. I work as a content manager from the road, which basically means my office is wherever I can park the van and get a stable connection with my Starlink.

My free time is wherever rock, wind and tide look promising for a session with the spinning rod. This blog is where all those hours on slippery rocks, empty beaches, and noisy harbor walls end up, so you do not have to learn everything the hard way like I did.

How it started: a kid with a float in France

My saltwater story began long before the campervan. As a kid, my parents took me to the south of France for summer holidays in my grandfather’s house. I stood on the stones with a cheap rod and a simple float setup, staring at that little orange dot on the surface as if it was the most important thing in the world.

I had no idea about lure weights, rod actions or anything technical. It was just salt in the air, sticky sunscreen on my hands, and that feeling when the float disappeared and the line suddenly felt alive. Those fish were really just minis, and I only caught three of them, but I still carried them home like treasure and proudly handed them to my grandfather.

Over 20 years later, in 2021, my wife and I left Germany in our VW Crafter to travel full time, and it was also the year I really started with spinfishing in saltwater. Somewhere near Valencia, on the Spanish coast, I bought two relatively cheap setups: one heavy rod for bottom fishing and one spinning rod that, with today’s experience, I know was far too heavy at 40 to 90 grams. I tried a bit of everything with them, from bottom fishing and float fishing with groundbait to using spoons that were much too big and worked the wrong way, and for a long time, nothing happened, just hours of casting into blue water and reeling in empty line.

How One Atlantic Pollock Turned Vanlife Into a Saltwater Obsession

The turning point came a few months later in Portugal. I rigged a single spirolino with a Berkley Gulp Saltwater Sandworm on a two-meter-long leader and sent it out into the Atlantic. This time there was that first real, heavy pull, the rod loaded up and I brought in a Atlantic pollock. It was not a monster, but for me that fish changed everything. That was the moment I understood how addictive saltwater spinning can be.

Since then, the van has been home and Europe the backyard. Fishing stopped being something I only did on holidays; it became part of how I experience new countries. I do not remember places just by names or coordinates anymore; I remember coastlines by where I lost a good fish, where I found a safe ledge in big swell, or where the squid showed up under a harbor light at midnight.

From Portugal to Nordkapp and back to Greece

By now, I have fished roughly ten different countries and a big part of the European coastline. From the windy southwestern tip of Portugal, all the way up to Nordkapp in Norway, where the water feels almost unreal in its depth and color, and back down again to the southernmost point of Greece on the Peloponnese.

Some trips stay with me more than others. There was that camping trip with a small tent where dinner was supposed to be potatoes and sauce. I hooked a bonito from the shore, and suddenly the whole evening changed. Fresh fish on the fire, tired arms, happy faces. That is the kind of fishing memory no photo can really show.

Not every story is romantic, though. Once I slipped and fell into a Norwegian fjord on wet rocks. The water was deep right next to the edge, and I managed to pull myself out only because I still had one glove on. My phone, van key, and electronics were destroyed. I walked away cold and shaken, but with a very deep respect for safety on the rocks and the sea.

Another time in Greece, I hooked an 80-centimeter bonito from high rocks. No net, no plan how to land it. A local Greek angler saw me struggling and came with a four meter long net. Together we pulled the fish three meters up the cliff. Without him, that fish would have been just another painful story about the one that got away. Encounters like that, and the many small chats with local anglers on the rocks and breakwaters, are as valuable to me as any big catch.

What I actually fish for and how I fish

My main passion is simple. Spinning from the shore in saltwater. Standing on rocks, beaches or harbor walls with a spinning rod in my hand, reading the water and working lures.

Right now, my main target species in Greece are seabass, dentex, and squid, but I also fish for a lot of other species down here on the Peloponnese. Over the last years, I have also caught bonito, grouper, amberjack and barracuda along different European coasts. The species change with the country and the season, but the approach stays similar.

My favorite techniques are medium shore jigging with 40 to 60 gram jigs and fishing hardbaits from the shore for non-pelagic predators. I also enjoy fishing a lighter setup with 15 to 35 gram hardbaits for shallower water. I love that combination of casting distance, control, and direct contact to the lure.

I do have experience with bottom fishing and with fishing from boats, and I enjoy those sessions too, but the real heart of my fishing beats when I am standing on the rocks, a bit too far from the parking lot, watching the swell, feeling the wind in my face, and enjoying the constant action of working lures in the water.

Among my friends, I am known for climbing to crazy rock spots that most people would not bother with and for almost never measuring fish. For me, it is less about exact numbers and more about the story behind each catch and a tasty meal.

My values, and what you can expect from me

For me, fishing is 100 percent about adventure and exploring. New coastlines, new structures, new species. Numbers do not interest me much. Even a small fish can be a lot of fun on the right tackle.

I am a catch and eat angler. I happily release fish that are too small or protected, and I always respect local rules. I only take as much fish as my wife and I actually need for a meal, but I do enjoy bringing home a good fish for dinner. That is part of the satisfaction for me, cooking what I caught and eating it where I caught it.

After my own accidents, safety is a big topic here. I still sometimes push into more difficult terrain to reach better spots, but I try to be honest about the risks. I want you to learn from my mistakes, not repeat them. No fish is worth a serious injury.

What makes OnlySaltwaterFishing different

This blog is not a collection of random theory. Most of what you find here comes from real sessions, real trips, real failures, and real successes all over Europe, mostly with my feet on rocks, piers or beaches, and a spinning rod in my hand.

For topics where I have less direct time on the water, I rely on a mix of my own experience, long talks with skippers and other anglers, and very careful research. Whenever something is based more on research than on my own hands on experience, I will say that clearly so you always know what you are reading.

I write a lot about remote and unusual shore spots, especially in Greece, where I spend a lot of time now. I share the small details that you usually only learn after losing several jigs, misreading the swell, or talking with a local angler in broken English next to a harbor light. My goal is that you get the honest version, not the polished one.

My promise is simple. I will show you how I really do things, what worked for me, what did not, and why. I want to help you avoid the stupid mistakes I have made, protect your gear and your health, and still have as much fun as possible on the water, whether you fish from the rocks, the pier or a boat.