The third day’s fishing Angola had very little to write home about, unless you were a shark fisherman. The bronzies were very much on the bite and the guys were landing them one after the other. I am not sure if the abundance of bronzies causes the edible fish to disperse, but I could not as much as get a bump on the lures. I decided to get in on the bronzie action, hold on tight!
Dad pulling them flat!
The highlight of the day was without a doubt when Charl landed a beautiful leerie on chokka bait; the biggest I have ever seen outside of a photo. It was hilarious to witness him straight sticking the fish, all the while thinking it was a bronzie; only once the fish reached the shallows, one of the KZN guys shouted up at him “IT’S A HUGE ***** GARRICK”. He immediately started treading around like a ballerina, slacking off on the drag. Needless to say, the fish was still pretty green after being straight sticked to the beach. A good fight ensued before this gentleman of the ocean was eventually landed. After a couple of well-deserved pictures, it was safely released to fight another day. What a great catch, well done Charlie-B!
Maureen found a very old shell of a black-mussel, man, that thing was huge! These are apparently still found along the “doodsakker”; live ones; more motivation to venture through there!
Fishing Day 4 had us heading northwards along the beach, to the Vanessa Seafood shipwreck. The big leerie that was caught the previous day served as support for this decision, this was the beginning of the “leerie water”. We were off early, snaking along the two tracks laid by Uncle Frans in the leading vehicle. The 30 km trek saw us passing by some local fisherman catching black-tail and other small fish. Their catches are cleaned and then left on home-made drying racks at their camp. They stay here for weeks on end, catching fish all day. On a pre-determined date, they will walk halfway to the nearest town. There they will be met by people from town to swop the dried catches for food for the coming weeks. These people do not own vehicles and have to cover 10’s of kilometres each time for this exercise. Not quite what I have in mind when I day-dream of fishing every day!
A little further along the beach we could see the remnants of a shipwreck in the distance.
New water to be fished; my excitement started to build. We were in the back of the queue, and once past the wreck, everyone had stopped at the spot where they thought looked good to produce. I urged my dad to continue past the parked vehicles till I saw a good spot, between the last couple of vehicles. The water made a small channel through the waves; the tide was high so the channel pushed over the back bank; hmmm, I felt confident.
In no time I had my rig set-up and ready to cast my lure. The first or second line in the water on a new spot more often than not gets the fish. Shoaling fish like kob are easily spooked, so make haste when there are many fishermen going for it. I opted to start with the yellow and white buck-tail again. Whilst the others were struggling to get their big rods ready and baited I was already scouting my landing spot. I knew what was coming; the conditions just looked perfect. The lure landed right at the back of the hole, on the edge of the bank where the channel flows into the deeper hole. Twitch, twitch, lure stops dead, I crack a smile, VAS! The fish has the familiar headshakes, nice big ones. Thankfully there were no lines in the water to my immediate left as the fish swims along the channel with the current. After a decent tug-of-war I have the fish in the shallows; I use the waves to my advantage and on the fourth surge I am able to grab the tail, nice!
My biggest of the trip thus far and I am all smiles, ready for a few snaps. The kob was rather stubby in length and had some serious weight and girth. Only measuring about 90cm it was still short of the 10kg converted length to weight. I was questioned by some of the other guys about my lure and technique, this being the first time we all fished together. I shared some of my self-proclaimed knowledge, but was rearing for another cast.
Once back at the spot I sent the next cast flying into the same area. I had a couple of knocks on ensuing casts, but no hook-ups. In all the rush and excitement I had forgotten to check my lure; the hook was opened from the last fish. Thankfully he didn’t come off, but this would never suffice; no wonder I can’t get a decent hook-up.
The cast didn’t require too much distance, so I decided to give a paddle-tail a go. I bought some pink ones especially for this trip, knowing that “normally” in foreign destinations the odd colours tend to work really well. I rigged up a ½ ounce Berkley jighead and slipped the 5 inch pink McArthy paddle tail onto it. First cast with the pink paddle-tail, zzzz, ON!
I used a steady retrieve at a slow speed with my rod tip pointed down towards the water. The bite stops your lure dead in its tracks; often when this happens I need to lift my rod tip and check weather I hadn’t snagged a rock, but true to form, the line peeled off the reel. This time the fight is a little trickier as there are plenty of lines in the water now. Anticipation is key here, but so is a great deal of luck. After a few anxious moments where the fish swam directly at another baited line, I managed to pull him into the clear; now again to just wait for a good push from the waves. Patience is important here as the hook can easily be pulled from the fish if the fish is forced with too much pressure against the surge. Finally, I managed to land him safely on the beach; the pink paddle-tail noticeably protruding from its mouth. A few ridicules from the hardy bait fisherman about these crazy fish eating pink plastics, and the fish was released.
I think this was the final nail in the coffin. I hadn’t even finished safely releasing the fish when three or four guys descended onto our spot, rods in hand. They also wanted to get in on the action. The more the merrier, pull-in, but it does make it hard fighting a fish when you have lures whizzing past your ears. We managed to land a couple more kob and the odd leerie or two until the tide became too low for the fish to push over the bank into the channel. Dad and doc Herman was not to be outdone, landing their own couple of kob in quick succession. Dad was learning the “pose” in no time.
None of this old-school stuff where the fish is held in the gills anymore (unless when being kept for supper). We are after-all Rush of Blue and fish with the future in mind. Doc Herman obviously still had some lessons coming 🙂
On our way back we found the Namibian guys (and ladies) into the bronzies again. They had left the spot at the Vanessa Seafood wreck early in search of the toothies. It was chaos; they were all on with fish, 4 or 5 at once. Their rods bent double, trying to land the shark as quickly as possible in order to catch another one. Lindie was pulling them on her spinning reel and showing the men how it is done. The competition was clearly in full swing!
No time for this… ok maybe just one cast 🙂
We ventured forth and stopped near the Consortium wreck for a couple of casts before dark. We landed a few average sized kob, and under the instruction of Uncle Frans, these were kept for tonight’s braai.
Back at the camp we patiently waited our turn in the “shower”. The water is warmed by an iron element placed in a fire and then pumped through the hot element, through a pipe hung over an enclosing. The water would either be boiling hot or freezing cold, but a welcome blessing none-the-less. There are a few things as good as feeling clean after a hard day of fishing. Dressed warm in order to combat the night chill, our laughter echoed from the mess-hall; stories about the bronzie frenzy, who the leading team was and the back and forth jokes by doc Herman and Uncle Flip. I am not sure where some of the guys got their energy from, but by 10pm I was ready for bed. The festivities still carried one well after I was catching the big one in my dreams.
Read Part 4 of the Angola fishing adventure
