Author: Wildfly Travel (Page 6 of 10)

More Space Than Time

It’s taken me four trips to the lower Orange River to fully appreciate what this majestic piece of the earth’s surface truly offers us members of the species homo sapiens, and how puny we seem when faced with space of this magnitude.

A visit to this generally arid and remote part of the Northern Cape Province in South Africa, and the mighty river that runs through it, is in many ways, a life changing experience…

Wide open spaces and a river runs through it.

Firstly, once out on the river below the Augrabies Falls, there is absolutely no wi-fi or cell signal. There, you see, life changing, in a good way.

Then, you will come across no other people on this trip. Nada, zero, not one.

It’s you, your mates and an endless spectacular rocky desert landscape. This would be scary if you were not gently bobbing down a large, drinkable, crystal clean, fish filled river, on an inflatable boat. So basically, it’s umm, life changing.

Gently bobbing down the Orange in search of gold.

Kalahari Outventures (KO), our preferred operator in this area, have the important details down to a fine art after a decade of taking clients into the wilderness. To the point where one can expect to enjoy a bitterly cold beer or G&T with ice at the end of the day on a squeaky clean sandy beach, while the guides erect the tents and begin preparations for simple but delicious meals.

Home for the night.

The breathtaking night skies are reason enough on their own to make this excursion and with no dangerous animals to worry about, one is able to pull a mattress up near the fire and drift off to sleep under a magnificent canopy of endless twinkling stars.

I first did this drift 10 years ago with my whole family, the youngest member being 6 years old at the time. It was one of the happiest holidays we have ever had together, with the memories of that trip still discussed and laughed about to this day. You could say that for all of us it was…you guessed it…life changing!

Our subsequent visits have been fairly focused on fishing the river for the TV shows we produce in that genre, and even in this quest we have never been disappointed.

The water is literally teeming with fish and the experienced guides are available to advise and assist in getting flies in the right place to make sure you land a Smallmouth Yellowfish. This indigenous species is remarkably powerful once hooked and they will provide hours of fun to those who enjoy catch and release angling.

Brian with his first Smallmouth Yellowfish.

More recently, Craig Eksteen, the owner of KO, and his friends have “unlocked” the mystery of the Largemouth Yellowfish and it’s now possible to pursue this apex predator with a reasonable chance of success. Slow growing, to well over 20 pounds, these magnificent beasts cruise the deeper sections of water and can be targeted with fast sinking lines and flies. The area below Augrabies Falls has been declared a conservancy and now only catch and release fishing is practiced there.

A Happy Craig Eksteen with a beaut Largemouth.

Time was not on our side when we planned our last trip there, so we chose to fly to Upington on Airlink (daily flights), saving at least a couple of days of driving.

A comfortable two hour transfer to the town of Augrabies, with a well-stocked cold box, and an overnight at the splendid Tutwa Lodge saw us in fine fettle for our river foray.

Tutwa Lodge at sun up.

But you don’t have to fish to enjoy a sojourn to this beautiful area, or a rafting trip down the river.  A visit to the Augrabies Falls, wine and brandy tasting at the many wineries, great lodges and restaurants (try the succulent Karoo lamb) and friendly locals, all add up to a unique tourism experience. 

Should you choose the rafting option though, all I can say is… be ready for a truly life changing experience!

 

 

 

So, we went fishing at St Helena Island…

For some obscure reason buried deep in my distant English heritage and my abiding love of islands, this has been a lifelong dream.

Now you may well ask who would want to visit a fairly barren volcanic mountaintop perched precariously in the southern Atlantic Ocean somewhere between Southern Africa and Brazil.

Many people, is the correct answer, for those of you who guessed and have bothered to read this far.

It’s just not easy to get there. Or away for that matter.

Famously, Napoleon Bonaparte, after a short but impressive stint as King and self -proclaimed Emperor of a country in Europe somewhere, was exiled to this supposedly lonely outpost to die in disgrace.

However, after a number of unpleasant scuffles over the past few centuries with various seafaring nations, regarding strategic outposts, the Brits are the current proud owners of this truly remarkable piece of the planet.

It’s fantastic. It could easily be a movie set. Every one of the 5000 odd loyally British inhabitants on the island, together form a microcosm of humankind at its best. In a “country” of about 40 square miles, surrounded by a vast ocean it’s a necessity, so people are family orientated, friendly, kind and respectful.

A cliché certainly, but visiting this island truly is like going

backwards in time.

Up until very recently the only way to access or leave St Helena was by boat, which arrived from Cape Town monthly. Sadly, the old ship, HMS ST Helena, has now been decommissioned. But fortunately, for the Saints (what people from St Helena are known as) SA Airlink now provides a weekly flight as an alternative….well, not really an alternative, unless you fancy private yachting.

 

Anyway, for now, this innovative airline company is a lifeline for the people of St Helena, both from an incoming tourism perspective, as well as connecting Saints, via South Africa, to the rest of the world.

We shacked up at the excellent new Mantis St Helena Hotel in the heart of Jamestown (the capital) for the week. It’s ideally located for both socializing and strolling down to the harbor to board your fishing or diving boat within minutes.

From the vantage point of the sea, looking back at the island, the incredible lengths that earlier generations went to in order to fortify the few access points onto terra firma are obvious and impressive.

 

We had plenty of time between fishing outings to appreciate the diversity of the island, from the lush green forests and pastures of the higher mountain areas, to the steep barren slopes dropping sheer into the ocean. We were even lucky enough to be there over the annual St Helena Day festivities, when seemingly the whole island population take time to strut their stuff and socialize together in the main street of the ancient capital village called Jamestown.

There are so many game fish in these waters that the locals have refined a method of “chumming” the water with a few handfuls of live bait to attract the Tuna species, and then bouncing one hooked bait fish, attached on a short line to a long bamboo pole on the surface near the boat. Within seconds this bait will be attacked and a very green Tuna unceremoniously landed on deck before it even knows it’s been caught.

We enjoyed amazing art-lure angling. Even though the few charter operators based there are generally using more traditional methods, they are true seamen and once they understood what we were trying to do, became very intrigued and got fully involved in putting us on the right spot for various species we might be targeting. We landed and released over 10 species of fish in 4 days. These included large Yellowfin Tuna, Skipjacks, big Wahoo, Blackjack Trevally and Grouper.

 

 

Incredibly, the island drops off so quickly into deep water, the large pelagic species could virtually be targeted from the shoreline (if it weren’t so steep) and we were seldom fishing more than a few kilometers away from the harbor at any time.

Due to the plethora of their favoured food, all the Billfish species can also be targeted, although there are currently a limited number of charters offering this option on a fully professional basis.

More than the fishing and the truly unique landscape though, it was the friendly people of the island that set this apart as one of the most memorable fishing trips we’ve ever been on.

 

 

I liked St Helena a lot, but I really loved the Saints.

So I went to Kenya

So I went to film some fishing in Kenya with my cameraman Chucky.

He’s from Zimbabwe

A lot of people think he’s my bodyguard. Not sure why. Sure, he’s built like a brick house, but he’s a damn good cameraman and people shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

Anyway, he’s not so good on the water. Which is a problem for a person who films fishing for a living.

Look the guy can swim. He went to a private school in Harare for goodness sake, but rocking boats have a detrimental effect on him.

Now, I have to work for a living, and if our aforementioned Chucky is busy doing the upchuck over the gunwales while we have fish to film, I’m wasting my bloody time, aren’t I?

Fortunately, he pulled himself towards himself and we managed to get a couple of nice Marlin right in the preferred fishing holiday spot of one Mr. Ernest Hemingway, who, as legend, his very own memoirs, and the sepia photos in the Hemingways Bar have it, did very much the same thing a short while back. Or so it seems. The recently upgraded Hemingways Hotel at Watamu remains the quintessential upmarket East African big game fishing destination. Only better.

The somewhat fuddy duddy, but endearing, English atmosphere has been replaced with a more modern, cool and cosmopolitan feel, whilst not losing the personalized touch that see’s guests return year after year. Modern airy rooms are complimented by the never ending palm trees, white sand, turquoise pools and warm ocean. But as in days gone by, the barmen and waiters always remember your favorite tipple and serve it with a happy smile.

The thing about fishing in Kenya is that it feels so “genteel” somehow. Being on the equator, the weather is strangely stable, with flat seas and endless blue skies. The boats are more than comfortable, the skippers and crews are truly amongst the best, and, more importantly, they seem to get as much of a kick out of tagging a good fish as I do.

Then, add the fact that you’re fishing for Billfish just 20 minutes from the beach and you’re getting the picture.

This is one of the few places on the planet that you could realistically target a Fantasy Slam. Simple really. That’s a Sailfish, Blue, Striped and Black Marlin and then a Broadbill Swordfish.
Did I mention that’s all in 24 hours? It’s been done here!!

Meanwhile, Chucky, after four days, had found his sea legs and was busy swinging one of them over the gunwale of the tender boat when it snagged one of my carefully tied Sailfish flies, instantly tethering my finger at high speed to the leader, which I happened to be holding quietly at the time.

It was not a pretty sight. Chucky was doing a strange version of the one legged Can-Can on the beach, with the pretty fly embedded and fluttering around his ankle somewhere, when I first noticed that the 80 pound flouro leader had actually cut the tip of my finger to the bone and was still tied there. Fortunately, the line had snapped, so I did my best Usain Bolt impersonation up the beach to find an implement capable of cutting the embedded line. Luckily, a kind Frenchman had a Leatherman to hand and we were able to cut the finger free of the line.


A short Tuk -Tuk ride to the local hospital, where the good Doctor Erulu inserted a number of stitches which calmed things down somewhat. Chucky shuffled in shortly after me to have the hook removed from his foot and receive a few stitches of his own.

Not the best way to end a great fishing trip.

Anyway, now I’m looking for a new bodyguard for my next trip to Hemingways.

Transkei Fishing Heaven

Those that know me, know that my favourite form of fishing is estuary fishing. If I had to be even more specific, then I would say Transkei estuary fishing.

In my experience there are few places as tranquil to fish, as a Transkei estuary. I value any time spent on these beautiful rivers, soaking up the peace, enjoying the sounds of bird calls, the magnificent scenery and of course hunting a variety of elusive, predatory fish.

I have fished many of the Transkei rivers over the years, both blind rivers and those that are open to the sea. These rivers are generally only navigable by boat for a relatively short stretch, before becoming too shallow to continue. The fish are also confined to a few kilometres of river, which can be explored with a small boat and a fishing rod. This means that you can explore the entire system quite easily over the course of a few days.

I have been seeing posts from Nqabara Eco River Lodge on social media over the last few years, and always pay attention, as this is one of the river systems that I have wanted to explore for some time. So when I was recently invited to come and stay at the lodge and check out the fishing potential, I didn’t hesitate to accept.

What makes Nqabara Eco River Lodge different to other Transkei destinations?

Firstly the lodge is a community project. The local community is a shareholder in the lodge, so it gets a share of profits, which go into a community trust account. What this means is that locals see the positives of lodge in the area, and are courteous and pleasant when encountering lodge guests on the beach or river.

Secondly, being an Eco lodge, it has a reduced carbon footprint. It is off the grid in that it makes use of solar power and gas. It collects its own rainwater, recycles its trash and it grows organic vegetables on the property.

What also excites me is the fact that the system has not one, but two rivers, which share a common mouth in front of the lodge. The two rivers are quite different, with the Nqabarana being small and intimate. A much shorter river, ideal for quick sessions, when time is short.
The Nqabara river is both longer, and larger than the Nqabarana in terms of water volume, with a big dropoff close to the mouth, some deep holes and a series of productive pools and channels in the upper reaches of the river.

A quick look on Google Earth shows the structure and form of the rivers, and gives a clear idea of the excellent fishing potential on offer. While I am going to concentrate on the river fishing in this article, it must be noted that the surf at the mouth and along the beach also has some excellent fishing on offer, including spinning for kob and casting baits for edible species such as bronze bream, blacktail, black and white musselcracker and pignose grunter.

When preparing for my visit I kept in contact with Pierre Swartz, who manages the lodge and guides there as well. He kept me informed of weather conditions, water temperatures and what the fishing was doing during the build up to our trip. This was helpful, and gave me peace of mind that conditions were looking good and we were going to have a decent chance at some classic estuary fishing.

It was an eight hour drive from Pennington on the KZN South Coast, going through Kokstad and Umtata, then turning off at Dutywa and making our way towards the coast. I really enjoy driving through the rural Transkei, the huts on the hills are familiar, though they now have Eskom lines and Jo-Jo tanks. The pigs, goats, sheep, donkeys and cattle love standing in the road. People live slowly and seem content, waving and smiling at strangers in passing cars.

The last 40km to the lodge, from Willowvale, took an hour as it is dirt. The road was in pretty good shape and, though we were travelling in a 4×4, would be easily passable in a normal sedan.

On our first morning we were up at 4am, and headed for the launch area before it started getting light. While we packed the boat we heard a lot of splashes on the surface, with numerous chases and smashes visible in the path of moonlight laid down upon the water. I started off casting a surface lure, a Berkley J-Walker, and retrieving it with a zig-zagging ‘walk the dog’ action. I had a fish smash at the lure, with a big splash, but sadly it did not connect. As the sky lightened, we were able to appreciate the amount of predator activity, seeing many mullet streaking along the surface, creating bow waves, as well as smashes, with mullet taking to the air in panicked flight.

I had a few follows on my lure, and a bump on my suspending stick bait, before hooking up a bartail gurnard over a shallow bank. Sadly the hook pulled before I could land the fish. The activity in the area started to taper off as the light brightened, so we decided to make our way upriver and check out the potential of the upper reaches.

Numerous startled mullet jumped high into the air behind the boat as we carved our way up the sweeping bends of the river. The surface was glassy and smooth and mangrove lined mud banks gave way to forests and high cliffs, where the water started to look darker and more mysterious. We started fishing just past an island, along some boulders. I started off casting a 7.2cm Sebile suspending Stick Shadd up close to the rocks and giving it some small twitches. I saw the muted flash as a river snapper rolled and inhaled my lure. I set the hook and the fish started running around, looking for something to cut me off on or wrap me up in. I was using very light tackle. The leader was 14lb fluoro, that I had put on for yellowfish on my previous trip, not really ideal for hard fighting snapper, but I pressured him as hard as I could, and despite him making an attempt to wrap the line up in some branches, I was lucky enough to get him out. A decent fish of around 1.5kg, and a great way to start the trip.

It was beautiful up there, with big cliffs and spectacular forests. The air was filled with the sounds of bird calls, amongst others; trumpeter hornbill, tambourine dove, black headed oriole, southern boubou. We saw some hamerkop nests, as well as a juvenile gymnogene, which called a lot and flew about, eventually landing on a nest in a big tree. A pair of lanner falcons took off from the cliff and flew around high above us, hassling a jackal buzzard. We also saw a stealthy finfoot, which crept under some bushes and out of the water when we got close. We flushed a white backed night heron from his hidden perch over the water. Half collared, mangrove, pied and giant kingfishers seemed to be everywhere as well as a number of pairs of fish eagles. There were lots of big cycads growing out of the kranzes, along with aloes and euphorbias.

We came back to the lodge and had a short break between 11am and 12.30am, then headed across the river to the north bank at the mouth, passing the obligatory cattle on the beach as we walked. There is a rock ledge on the north bank, where we stood and cast paddletails across the mouth, working them through the channel. The water looked good, with small waves and some sand churned up, but we had no bites.

We went back to the lodge and took another break, then headed out to the dropoff in the big river at around 5pm. We fished there until about 8pm. There was a lot of activity after the sun went down, with mullet and prawns being chased and smashed on the surface. Pierre landed a kob on his bucktail, probably around 2kg, and I lost a small one next to the boat on paddletail. The hook pulled before we could land him.

It was a beautiful evening, with plenty of stars and we could see the Southern Cross clearly. The sound of fiery necked nightjars calling came across the water, punctuated by splashes and gulps of feeding fish.

We were up at 4am again the next morning and walked down to the boat, which was tied to a mangrove near the lodge. We went to the drop off and fished off the sand bank, with the boat anchored nearby. We had no touches, despite the fact that there was a lot of activity, especially early on, with mullet and shrimp getting smashed on the surface. Pierre had to leave us there, as he needed to go into Willowvale to get some supplies for the lodge.

I took the boat upriver, watching chases and smashes up ahead of us as we drove. The morning was calm and the water surface was like a mirror. We saw mullet streaking below the surface, pushing bow waves up ahead, the odd green turtle head breaking the surface to take a breath. There would be patches of white bubbles left on the smooth surface after a smash. We came to a stretch where there were a number of bubble patches, so I stopped the boat and had a few casts with a small popper. I had a fish try to eat the popper twice, without connecting.

We continued upriver, to the place where I had caught the snapper yesterday. We started working our way along the rocks and ledges, casting poppers and stickbaits (floating and suspending). I got a strong snapper of around 1kg, which gave me a great fight on a suspending Stick Shadd. A short while later I had a bump on the lure, just after I had pulled it past some rocks. I cast there again and had another bump, but no hookup. I considered changing lures, to show the fish something different, but I cast a third time and the lure got hit at the same spot, and this time it was vas. The fish fought hard and took a lot of line, with some strong runs. When I landed him we saw it was a nice GT of around 3kg’s. A beautiful fish!

We made our way even further upriver, and pulled the boat onto a bank, where we could walk and cast. I was throwing a popper at the cliffs opposite and bringing it back with a gurgling action, when I saw a fish follow it right to my feet, a good sized pickhandle barracuda. I made a couple more casts with the popper to try and get a bite, and had another follow, but no bite. I changed to the Sebile suspending Stick Shadd and worked that. I sped it up towards the end of the retrieve, with a quick jerky action and it was hit at my feet, with the fish almost launching itself on to the bank. It did some blistering runs, streaking around the pool, but I landed it in the end, a beauty, with nice dark markings.

There was some otter scat and fish bones on the ground, as well as a couple of shed prawn shells. There is a lot of life in these pools at the top of the river. I was interested to see that there were a few barnacles, oysters and reef worm on some of the boulders. Even this far up, the salt content is enough at times to support some of these marine filter feeders.

We got back on the boat and moved a bit further up, looking for a lure that I had snapped off in a tree and had fallen into the water. We retrieved the lure and I made a few casts nearby. A good size snapper (3kg plus) ate the sinking Stick Shadd on the surface close to the boat and screamed off, sadly cutting me off after a few seconds of hard running.

The South Westerly had got up strongly by then, so we decided to head back to the lodge for a break from the sun and get some refreshment.

So far the Sebile 7.2 cm Suspending Stick Shadd is proving to be the lure of the trip, getting more bites than anything else that we have tried. It is an excellent lure for this type of fishing, with the ability to remain in the zone for some time, while being made to look like a severely wounded baitfish.

The wind kept blowing hard, so we took a bit of a break in the afternoon, then went to the small river. We explored the river with the small boat, casting at ledges etc, but didn’t raise a single fish. Probably as a result of the low pressure system that moved in, I have no doubt that there were fish there.

One thing I noticed is that there is very little fishing pressure on these rivers. There don’t seem to be many locals fishing. In two days we have passed two guys fishing from the bank, one on each river. This afternoon we were drifting along quietly and I smelt the sweet smell of someone smoking a joint. We came around the corner and there were two fellas on the bank with handlines and a couple of dogs, enjoying the evening.

Up at 4 am again, the wind was light and there were no stars, so it looked like overcast conditions, and the air definitely felt cooler.
We headed to the drop off in the main river. Pierre stood on the bank and cast fly, while I drifted nearby with the boat. I cast a few surface lures and Stick Shadd, but had no action. I changed to a 5 inch Berkley Powerbait (pearl Blue Shad colour)jerk shad on a 3/8oz jig head. I bounced that off the bottom and ended up catching three kob in the space of about half an hour.

I noticed something big making a commotion in the water near the bank at the end of the drop off and then saw skate wings coming out of the water, as a big diamond ray hunted mullet against the side. He then swam straight towards us, right on the surface, so that we could watch his approach for around a 100m as he was pushing a big bow wave. He came right past us on the surface and I flicked a lure near him, to see if there was perhaps a GT swimming with him, but no such luck. There were also a few green turtles in the area, and we would see their heads pop up and hear the sigh each time they came up for air.
We picked Pierre up and headed upriver. I took him to the places where we had been catching fish over the last two days. We were drifting and I was working a 9cm sinking Sebile Stick Shadd, when I stopped retrieving to point out a hamerkop nest to Pierre. My stick bait got hit while it was resting, and I landed a small kob.

We continued up river, with Pierre getting a hit on a Rapala Twitchin’ Mullet by a river snapper, which didn’t hook up. We stopped at the same place as yesterday and got off the boat to walk the bank and spin a bit. I worked a small
¼ oz black bucktail along the bottom, bouncing it slowly, and had a knock. A couple of casts later I went tight and the fish came jumping out of the water, a beautiful skipjack, which commenced to take off and strip line at high speed. I landed it after a nice fight.

A short while later I had a couple of fish zig-zagging behind my bucktail as it came in, looking like small kingies, but they didn’t hit the lure.

I cast a small sinking jerkbait across the mouth of a small, shallow creek and was rewarded with a beautiful little sea pike, no more than 20cm long, with gorgeous dark chevron markings. Pierre had gone on ahead and he called that there was a pool with some river bream in it. I went to where he was and tried a variety of lures, but had no success, apart from something small which flashed at my tiny popper. Walking back I cast a brass Abu Droppen spinner into a real tiny pool, which was connected to the river via a narrow channel. I got hit and pulled in a little cape moony, smaller than the palm of my hand, but somehow hooked in the mouth.

As we approached the area where the boat was parked there were a bunch of smashes on the surface in the middle of the river and along the rock ledge at the bottom of the cliff opposite. I ran and made a cast with the Droppen spinner and went tight almost immediately. While I was fighting the fish I noticed another swimming with it and told Pierre to make a cast with his fly rod. He did so and went on immediately and we both landed respectable big eye kingfish.

We boarded the boat and started making our way back down river. As we approached the first bend there was a commotion ahead of us, as a shoal of big eye kingies hit bait in the channel ahead of us with splashy smashes. I drove us onto them as Pierre prepared to cast. He made his cast, then cursed, as he had a faulty fly on that he needed to change. He told me to quickly cast while he sorted out his admin, and I did so with a suspending Stick Shadd. I gave it quick jerky twitches and it was hit within seconds of landing and I got another feisty bigeye kingfish.

We drifted a bit further down and made a few casts at various good looking spots. We jumped off the boat and walked a small gravel bank, where we could cast across towards some boulders in the river on the other side. We saw a giant mud crab (Scylla serata) in the clear, shallow water. He was swimming along the bottom, he was a bit shy of us and picked up some speed and disappeared into the deeper water when we got too close.
Pierre got a GT of around 2kg’s on his Rapala Twitchin’ mullet, which gave him a good pull, and he was very stoked. By then it was already afternoon, so we decided to head back to the lodge for a bit of a break and some refreshement.

While we were travelling back downriver I saw a raptor coming towards us, it came over us fairly low and landed in a tree, giving us a pretty good look. It was a pale phase booted eagle, a great sighting of a magnificent bird.

We headed out the next morning at first light, stopping at the dropoff area and making a few casts, I landed a kob on a 5’ jerkshad. I stuck my finger into its mouth to get the lure out and he bit down, hard, and wouldn’t release, which was pretty painful, eventually he let go and I could withdraw my bleeding, throbbing fingertip. We continued upriver and stopped for a few casts at some rocks in the water at the mouth of a small inlet. I worked a Berkley Bullet Popper around the rocks slowly, and was rewarded with a thornfish, not big, but another species nonetheless.

We continued on to the top of the river, making casts at all the good looking spots, but had no other touches along the way. We pulled the boat up at the bank and got off to walk the top pools and cast lures. I was looking for a river bream specifically, to add to the species count. I saw a few bream and had some follows on my lures, but they refused to eat.

The tide eventually turned and with the drop, the fish started moving. Pierre and I each got a barracuda in the top pool, I went off looking for a river bream in the pools above, Pierre stayed where he was and landed a skipjack on fly while we were away. Again I failed to get a bream to eat, something is holding these tricky feeders back.

We left the top at around 5pm, after a long day. We had to make our way back to the lodge to start a braai and pack up our tackle. I was happy with our return from four days of fishing. I had managed to catch eight species of fish on lure in the river. Nqabara had lived up to its potential and I am happy to report that it is a real gem. There are only a handful of Transkei rivers that have accommodation available for the public, and Nqabara rates right up there with the very best of them.

My Silver King

I simply love fishing, not sure why, but there it is.

I’m happy to sit on a rock and watch the water. Whip a popper till my arms are sore, or try my hardest to land a delicate little fly on the spot.

For me it’s a primal instinct, not a race.

Every time I go out I learn something about the fish, the world, even myself.

I’m happy to watch the boffins casually discuss tactics and techniques whilst fighting massive fish, without a hair out of place, then nonchalantly toss in the Latin name and distinguishing characteristics, but I just fish for the fun of it.

The last time I went to the Kwanza River in Angola, we fished for Tarpon on fly. Man it was a blast. I didn’t land a thing. Without proper teeth these fish suck their prey in rather than biting and I kept pulling the bloody fly out of their mouths before it had a chance to stick.

Anyway, I recently decided to go back and give it another go. I’ve been having recurring nightmares about those Silver Kings outfoxing me, along with the odd dream of actually landing one and swimming with it, before sending it back into the big blue.

I heard Craig Thomassen had been invited back up there and decided to crash his party, because if there’s fish around he’ll find them….he might even give me a chance to redeem myself.

The Kwanza River is just short of 1000km long….navigable for about 240km from the mouth…it holds over 50 species of fish and is remarkably beautiful and pristine, given that it’s only 70km from the bustling city of Luanda and its 7 million inhabitants.

The “Poons”, as Tarpon are fondly referred to the world over, were not nearly as active in the river as on our previous trip and although we did throw lures and soft plastics there, it was without much success, other than a good Cubera Snapper of around 7kgs that Tommo managed to entice to the hook.

Basically, our best chance was to fish the color line where the river flows into the sea using small live baits with large circle hooks “gently” inserted through their eyes and swum literally within meters of the boat. Tommo was kind enough to offer me the strike, having already landed his fair share of these prehistoric beauties.

I will never forget the rush I got when a giant slab of silver, estimated at 80kgs, burst out of the water meters into the air within what seemed like touching distance. It’s hard to imagine a more magnificent sight. Around 20 sweaty minutes later the fish was at the side of the boat, leadered. As I was about to realize my dream of swimming with this magnificent beast she gave one last head shake and a crimp on the terminal tackle gave, sending her on her way…Gutted is the word that comes to mind, but it was more than that. Would I ever get another chance?

Tommo, seeing my desperation, magnanimously offered me another shot on our last day of the trip. I GOT IT. With only moments to spare a fish of around 60kgs cleared the water, landing with a mighty splash and ripping line off the reel in a dash for freedom. For another heart-stopping 20 minutes we tussled, until finally the fish was alongside the boat.

The 5 minutes or so I spent in the water with this behemoth of the deep, it’s huge eye seeming to be looking deep into my soul before it slipped back into the depths, will be etched in my memory for the rest of my days.

In the end, that’s why I really love fishing.

Where to stay: Kwanza River Lodge.
When to fish: Tarpon in summer, but good general fishing year round.
Method: Bait and lure….fly fishing possible when smaller Tarpon are around

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