Namibian kob two-step

The detox from work had started. Staring into the nothingness landscape of the Northern Cape, my mind flashed back to the office.

Did I remember to delegate all my responsibilities, did I have the reporting covered, I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach…

but just think of that cool ocean air, the sand between my toes, the waves gently rolling in…

I hope the last billing calculation was complete, surely the figures will go out in time…

as the foam pulls over the bank into the deeper water the kob hunt, I anticipate the bite, I can already feel the…

who is going to do the stock count adjustments or the recons, wait, I did communicate that, did I, what if they forget… Argh!

“Ek is nogal opgewonde”, Dad said in a calming voice, not a moment to soon. I agreed, I was very excited about the two weeks ahead. The weather predictions were looking good, although you can Windfinder, Windguru, YR, Accuweather, Google etc. etc as much as you like, one thing I have learnt is that this can change in a single day. One big front down in Cape Town and you are facing 5m swells and a few days of praying for a bite.

It was still early afternoon when we arrived at the Vastrap Vakansieplaas near Grunau. The temperature outside was in the low 40’s (as in degrees Celsius) and we were grateful for the air-conditioned rooms.

The sun was busy setting, the fire crackled and my beer dripped a bead of water down the side. I kicked up my feet, leaned back in my chair and stared across the desolate veld. The quiver trees, standing far apart from one another almost seemed to be longing for some companionship. Their branches reminded me of arms stretched out in a gesture of embrace. I thought of my little one and wife back home, and missed them a lot. It would be my first time apart from them since his birth eight months ago. It was about his bedtime now, I smiled and looked over at my dad who had just given the meat a turn, CHEERS! he exclaimed, op die eerste een… What office?

Our first stop in Henties Bay was at Leon’s Tackle Shop to pick up our bait. We had called in a couple of weeks earlier to ensure that they would have enough bait to supply us on the day we arrived. 20 boxes of pilchards and 70 packets of mussels; this even had the owner chuckling about the optimistic quantities. Pilchards were a spot on estimate, mussels less so. After stocking up on all the necessities we headed over to the Skubbebar for a bite to eat. News that the fishing had been slow was a welcome change to the words “fish were coming out big and plentiful last week”. Always the week before you arrive and the week after you have left, that is when the fish are on the bite. We had some time to hang around, because we could only check into St Nowhere at 2pm, strictly 2pm. Studying the great catches that covered the inside of the Skubbebar walls, we were soon rearing to go and get a line in the water.

Offloading the vehicles at our accommodation, took but mere minutes. This year “Groot drink” was full, so we were staying in “Karos”, which is a word used to describe the animal skins used as clothing or mats by some of the previous inhabitants of these desert areas. The accommodations had been renovated a bit and were indeed in fine condition, very comfortable for a bunch of men. We are assigned cleaning staff, if we choose so. This makes it feel like walking into a brand new place every day we return from the water; leave at 5am, Karos = disaster, return at 8pm, Karos = perfect condition (pay the extra, and get the cleaners in, especially if you are a group of guys, worth every N$)

The new General Grabber tyres on the Amarok were deflated to 1 bar and off we went to Blare for a quick de-rust and fresh fish for supper session.  The sea was still a bit up, but expected to calm over the next few days. Dad was pretty impressed with how these tyres handled on the sand (although the Amarok could make a set of bricks feel like they handle great on the sand).

It wasn’t long before the first kob was on the side. We managed to keep a couple for the braai, and released the rest. Oh how I missed these sunsets, what a special place.

The next day or so the sea calmed, but was still pretty brown. The toothies (or maybe we should refer to them as gummies) loved these conditions, and we were all having our arms stretched trying to get them over the lip. They tend to take off at a speed of knots when hooked, then come in a bit easier, but once near the side, you are in for a serious challenge. We do not fish with leaders, because we only target edibles. Care needs to be taken not to put too much pressure on the sharks, their coarse skin could easily result in a rub-off.

The kob were also biting, but they were just too slow to get to the bait.

I was itching to whip a lure, but with the colour of the water, it was pointless. I knew it was only a matter of time before conditions would be good enough.

We generally take care when handling any fish we catch, but being able to put your fish in water while waiting for the camera man to get ready helps a lot, not only do you get better photos, but the fish has a much better chance of survival  if you intend on releasing it.

The biggest challenge of all is to get the fish to be still for a photo. I think they might be camera shy. A careful positioning of the fish for the pose and just as everyone is ready, the kob would decide it is time to go, flap-flap-flap, let’s try that again.

The following days didn’t have much to write about, the kob were biting at all the spots. Everyone was making good catches, and the guys didn’t have to work too hard for 50cm to 70cm fish. Not sure where the big ones were hiding, perhaps just a bit late from Angola, or maybe they updated their Google maps directions to Sandwich harbour and were not at any of the regular spots. In the past you could always be certain that the big kob and then I am talking about the 20kg plus fellas would be caught at the Rondebos area, and every so often at the Winston area (not exactly there, but in the surrounds) (apparently this has changed a bit in recent years). The big fish seem to be coming into the sheltered bays and feeding very close to the side. Obviously you have to be on the right spot at the right time, the latter being the most important variable.

A quick visit to Henties Bay to replenish any depleted “stock” left my dad and I apprehensive about our plan to fish very South of where we were staying. After a chat and some inside info/advice from Leon’s Tackle Shop we were Amarocking and rolling back North. The sea was turning as flat as a pancake and the wind had been blowing in a north westerly direction, if there was even any wind to speak of. The colour of the water had improved considerably and at some areas like from lighter ship wreck to the fence it could quite possibly have been too clean.

We arrived at our intended fishing area about an hour or so before sunset; just in time to crack open an ice-cold Windhoek and cheers the sun a farewell for the day. I tried my luck with a paddle-tail and instantly got a proper hit, but unfortunately the hook did not set. One or two casts later Dad went on with a better size fish. After helping him land it and take a couple of pictures, I also managed to sneak one in in injury time.

My turn…

Driving home, Dad and I had a discussion about the plans for the following day. We were unsuccessful targeting Steenbras thus far, but shucks man, conditions seemed so good. We had to keep trying.

We fished all the spots that we were told is a good place to target Steenies (and even more spots we thought would be ideal), but other than enjoying the conditions and the beautiful surroundings, we were once again left disappointed.

We started to feel cursed, the big steamtrains were evading us. Yes sure we saw guys catching them on worm and that would be easy enough, but it is illegal and there is a valid reason for that law to be in place. One day I would like my kids to be able to target these fish as well, and their kids. It is not the olden days anymore, wake up and smell the coffee people, fish stocks and our coastlines need protecting in order to be sustained for future generations to enjoy.

Feeling totally despondent, we had to start focusing on what we claim to be good at; catching kob on lures. The South Westerly wind had picked up a bit and created a good chop on top of the flat water; it was time. I could see the disappointment on the faces of the other guys when the perfect beach conditions turned a bit miserable.

A very important tip to remember, try casting into the wind or with the wind as far as possible. This will make your retrieving so much easier and ensure that you can get the most intended action out of your lure. Cross wind is just no good.

I opted to use a bucktail jig to get the required distance.

I am unable to accurately describe the joy I experience when I get a hook-up on a lure, especially in the surf where you have to really put in some effort and apply all of your knowledge. Bouncing my lure along the bottom, it suddenly stopped dead. With one arm in the air punching the sky in pure elation I held the rod tip high to admire the bend under the pressure of the fish on the other end. Sweet, sweet music to my ears as the reel zzzz’s from line being stripped. A fish just fights differently when hooked on a lure, but the familiar head-shakes of a kob are unmistakable. Soon all negative vibes from the failed steenie hunting missions started to fade, happy place.

And they just kept coming…

The red and silver bucktail was doing the trick. One or two bounces into a retrieve, knock knock, who’s there..?

Good sizes on the 9 foot rod, giving me stick near the lip.

Seven or eight fish later, the tide was now getting to high to reach spots where the fish were holding. The water pushed strongly over the sandbank we stood on. The waves were forming dumpers (or a beach break), making hanging around the edge rather risky. The guys using bait had been watching television and other than a fish or two, they were having a tough time getting any bites. I did not want to take any fish back to South Africa, and only kept fish for the braai during our stay. I could see the confusion in the eyes of the other vehicles when we would put a nice 5 kg or 6 kg fish back into the water to swim free. Changing the future starts with you, it is our problem (even if I am not from Namibia).

Pieter got a nice size kob on bait between all the lure action. The big piece of  red float must have done the trick (his own invention and it worked a treat, regularly).

The following day we were back at our spot. News had spread that there were some fish around in the area. In no time, the stretch of beach had filled up. People from as far as Walvis Bay, Swakopmund and Henties Bay. What were so many doing here, surely the catches weren’t that great? I suddenly realised that it was Saturday, and that’s what these people do on weekends, they fish. Strange how days lose their names and time is judged by sunrises and sunsets, a sign that you are having a good holiday.

We were there early and I was able to fish the spot that I wanted. We were throwing bait while waiting for the tide to start pushing a little. It is important that there is sufficient foam cover over and around the banks for the kob to be able to ambush their prey. The baits were quiet and we were itching to throw a lure. Ah what the heck, I rigged up a bucktail jig again, while Dad put on a paddletail.

We were working the top of a rocky bank and knew that there was always the possibility that we might snag a rock or some structure on the bottom. Dad and I were standing on the water’s edge to get as much distance on our casts as possible. Suddenly Dad’s lure got stuck on a rock, “ah dammit, daar sit ek vas”, he exclaimed. Now I know from experience that sometimes the rock starts to swim in the opposite direction. As he lifted his rod tip, it looked all too familiar to me. There was the indication of a head-shake and I could see the surprise on my dad’s face. The next second the rock swam off, peeling braid from the reel. I could not contain my laughter, but soon shared in the joy my dad was experiencing. He was crab walking/two-stepping his way left and right along the drop-off on the water’s edge. When the kob pulls right, he shuffles right and so forth. The hook-up happened very close to the side and when the kob reached the shallows it was still green. As the wave retreated, it would pull the fish along and the kob would try to swim off in a burst of speed. This in conjunction with the pressure of the braid on the other end would cause the fish to jump halfway out of the water. Who would have thought that a kob could jump? (It actually happened a couple of times with different fish)

I took a couple of photos before we let the fish go again. Next cast the same story, near the side, VAS!, Dad on again. I was watching TV today, but at least I was able to take photos of Dad’s fish, payback perhaps?

Not long and he had landed about five fish before I finally got my first hook-up, and as you would expect, Dad goes on as well, double up baby! Now we were dancing properly, two-step to the left, two-step to the right, the Namibian Kob Two-Step, I could almost hear Kurt’s Span Die Seile; gooi meel manne.

Dad’s kob were getting bigger and bigger with every catch.

My paddletails were taking a beating and on every second cast or so they would lose their tail… not sure if there were elf around or whether the kob were biting the tails off. I tried my hand at bucktail again and thankfully was rewarded with a young healthy little kob, eager to take the bright pink bucktail.

I started to catch up on the count, but definitely not in the size.

We were now lucky to have a photo taken here and there. When I wanted a photo, Dad would be busy fighting a fish, or vice versa.

While I was fishing in the nursery, dad was hooking the high-school fellas (wish they were the grandparents)

Even the smaller ones of around 60 cm would give a great fight on the light tackle.

Another one waiting to be photographed and then released. I had to settle for a photo of the fish in the bucket as there was no cameraman available. Rather than keep the fish out the ocean to long I would release it, trying to ensure that it has the best chance of survival after being caught.

I wasn’t really paying attention to the other 50 people along the beach, but never saw them land anything of note. I must say that we got a few comments when my dad and I let every catch go. The biggest one was 87cm and really gave a good account of itself. My dad had to work a little harder to get the fella over the lip, while negotiating one or two other lines in the water. The guys next to us were creeping closer and closer. They might as well have cast in front of our bakkie, unfortunately they didn’t get a bite either way. We lost count after 20 fish for the day, but it was one of those sessions we will remember forever. I am grateful that I got to share it with my dad and I am sure there will be many, many more.

The wind picked up strongly that evening and the sea started to change for the worse again. This meant the end of our lure fishing unfortunately. We focused our attention on catching some galjoen. They were around, but not the size we wanted, fun to catch none the less.

The remainder of our trip was spent looking for sheltered waters where the currents and waves were not as rough. Needless to say, the fishing went a bit slow in comparison to our first few days, but we still managed to catch a few. Doc Herman landed a trophy fish. Apparently the fish fought till death and gave a the doc a great fight, especially after he realised it was a kob as opposed to the suspected spotty. Well done to Herman on this fine catch. People fish their entire lifetime in search of one of these Namibian beauties.

Pieter had become a pro at catching 2 fish at once. He managed to land two kob by reeling in another hook line and sinker stuck to his own rig and fish

and also caught two kob on a single rig, one on the main hook and one on the “skelm” hook. It just shows in what large shoals and how  aggressive these size kob feed.

I caught some really big blacktail in one of the bays between St Nowhere and Blare. On a previous trip, when the waters were so rough that nothing was really biting, we also caught a lot of blacktail. Yet again, not a problem if they are this size…

We were missing our families, or at least I was longing to see my little boy and wife again. With the weather conditions worsening, we decided to leave 2 days early. We had caught a lot of fish over the course of the past eight days and once again some lifelong memories were made. This is a great group of guys and many laughs are had. Everyone fishes hard, and is committed to the early mornings and effort during the days. Namibia did not disappoint, an amazing coastline to explore, great fishing and relaxation.  Thanks for the dance Namibia, same time next year?

 

… Also see Namibia 2014 or St Nowhere, Exploring Namibia