The planets aligned… there was a buzz in the air… When you allowed your mind to drift for a second it was filled with excitement and anticipation, sand, sea and big fish. The Rush of Blue boys were finally able to get together again. A reunion had been on the cards for years, and what better destination than where the Namib Desert meets the Atlantic Ocean…
All remnants of civilization are quickly forgotten when the “Spitskoppe” greet you from the side of a dusty dirt road. Outside the vehicle there is a deafening silence. A shock to the system, going from a crisp aircon inside the cab to a melt your eyeballs 40 degrees celcius. Heatwaves float across the horizon and you start to question the logic behind all those jackets and extra blankets. Its freezing here they said… (HP and Jayson chuckle, you will learn boys)
It would be a first time visit for two of the guys, initiations were at the order of the day.
Welcome guys, the seed has been watered, planted years ago, now watch it grow! After the next couple of days, you are hooked for life.
In Henties Bay we bought bait and more groceries. Unsure about where to pack this, we “Transkei taxi’ed” it with a bit of ingenuity and a lot tie-downs. The locals chuckled at these “tourists”. We continued onwards for the final 100km of the journey to where we would spend our next 10 days.
Time for some serious fishing…
As customary, after check-in we headed off for a quick throw before sunset. Hoping to catch a lil’somin-somin for the braai. We returned empty handed and had to settle for the back-up plan; some Karoo lamb chops. Monty, our shark expert managed a nice size cow shark amongst all the smaller specimens.
The conditions were improving and the forecast was for less wind with the sea flattening out nicely. After some discussions the evening, we concluded a plan for the next day. We will head north and show the newbies some of the coastline.
It was an early morning low and made for easy driving along the beach. I use to love this as a kid in South Africa, dodging the waves and hanging on for dear life onto the back of the bakkie. The luxury of just a couple of minutes and you are at your desired spot.
Angola Rock was accessible but the “quicksand-crossing” to get there had the boys huffing and puffing. As the current rips around this rock, the sand is often washed away overnight and you can return the next day not being able to get onto the rock again.
Fishing our way there, we managed some younger kob and also a spotty or two; man, these puppies can box.
Galjoen are always feeding in the area. Harry was very relieved to finally tick that one off his bucket list, even if it was a juvenile. Monty and me managed better sizes.
Standing on Angola Rock, Harry was able to get his bait to deeper water and immediately had a decent bite. The fish took off with some speed and we knew it must be something other than a spotty. It gave Harry a good run-around on the rocks. Taking care not to slip and fall but at the same time keeping pressure on the fish, Harry was winning the fight. A silver flash in the swell and the large tail that peaked out for a wave had Harry’s heart in his throat. He guided the kob along the drop-off and fortunately Monty was at hand to grab the beauty and slide her onto the rock.
Fish landed, and high-fives were exchanged all round. Photos done, Harry held the fish in the water for it to revive, off she swam, nice and strong, released to fight another day. Measuring just shy of 1m, Harry still had some work left to join the meter club.
The trip was only starting, Harry had already managed his PB. I hope he didn’t peak to early…
Monty was into the action and managed a good couple of younger kob himself. He bought an 11ft rod and reel to match especially for this trip. The lighter tackle served for extra loads of fun with all sizes of fish.
Unfortunately, the kob were lying a bit further off. I wasn’t able to keep my lure in the strike zone long enough to entice a bite.
As the tide pushed, the working bank disappeared in the deeper water. The fish seemed to move off looking for some foamy cover.
There are some big Namibia kob around…
The weather was great, overcast with moderate wind and an average swell. All our usual spots were a little sanded up. I cannot remember when last we were able to fish Winston’s sandbank… My goodness what great memories we have there. Dad and I dancing around each other, landing one kob after the other on lures. Every year we eagerly anticipate it being open again, but alas this year it was still sanded up. Maybe next year…
The fishing continued to impress, and we found fish at most of the spots we tried.
The numbers weren’t great, but the quality was superb. We try to release as many of these beautiful fish as possible. It is not our goal to catch a freezer full of fish. We enjoy the “hunt” of catching quality fish, taking a couple of photos and set them free; hoping they recover and survive for future generations to enjoy the sport.
Jayson puts in the hours…
He was yet to join the meter club and time was running out. Dad once again put his stamp of authority down as the most successful fisherman, size-wise. He landed yet another good fish in excess of 1m. He seems to do this every year, and long may it continue!
I am fortunate to share such a passion for fishing with my dad and brother. To have them along on these trips is something special. The cherry on the cake however was having Monty and Harry join us. These guys are an endless source of laughter and added to the camaraderie. A trip like this takes quite a bit of planning and preparation. We have it pretty much down now. We often forget the sacrifice by those who remain at home; they enable(allow) us to go on these adventures. Be sure to return the favour, or next time you might stay at home.
To rub salt in Jayson’s wounds I hooked a big Namibian kob of over 1m, while standing right next to him; his eyes shooting fireballs…
It is incredible how these fish take off when they grab your bait. The braid makes it so direct and you feel every bump and head shake. When you see the silver flash in the shallows your heart rate drastically increases, as it is now confirmed to be a good fish. Patience and timing with the waves are required, use the surges to your advantage and as long as you can keep the kob’s head turned you should win the battle.
These days we all fish with circle hooks when targeting kob and the fish is almost always well hooked in the lip or scissors. Gut or throat hook-ups are a thing of the past, not only is this so much better for the survival of the fish but it also results in losing less fish from hooks pulling.
After a quick couple of pics she was back in the water, hoping she survives the dramatic ordeal.
The sea was turning into a dam…
With little working water, the rest of us started to lose hope of catching anything other than sharks. Jayson knew there was a meter club fish swimming around with his name on it.
He persisted but could still only manage younger fish.
Finally! he had a good strong pull, could this be the one…
Jayson assumed the “captains pose” so we knew it was a decent fish. He fought it very carefully, taking his time and not to put too much pressure on the fish. We all stood around waiting in anticipation to see what the result would be.
With his drag relatively loose he toyed with us, letting the fish run when it turned, soaking in every minute of the fight. When the dorsal fin of a big kob broke the surface we all gasped. Would this be the ticket into the meter club…
The tug-of-war continued for what seemed like ages, but we learnt long ago to give him his space and definitely NO! coaching.
Fortunately, this time around, Jayson won the battle…
As dad pulled the tape measure straight across the big silver slab, we held our breath… boom baby! Welcome to the meter club Jays.
Hopefully with the monkey off his back it is the start of many meter club fish. Once again, a quick couple of photos and the fish released to hopefully recover and survive, off to breed and spawn many babies.
The humble paddle tail does it again…
There was the tiniest patch of working foamy water, relatively close to the side. The sun starting to colour the horizon and I decided to give the lures a couple more throws.
Getting the required distance in the surf takes a lot of hard work and you will be getting wet, but oh man are the rewards worth the effort. When your lure is hit by a kob on a retrieve in the surf your mind glitches, rock-fish-rock… fish?…
Within milliseconds all doubt is extinguished and replaced with pure extasy as your reel screams with braid stripping off it. As can be expected the kob will give a better than usual account of itself on the lighter tackle and you hope that the hook remains set with every head shake.
This has to be one of my highlights every year, catching a kob on lure in Namibia.
With most of the boxes checked on our target list, we took the next few days a bit easier. Not meaning that we didn’t put if the effort each day, but time taken for an easy cold one was not frowned upon.
Every year when we visit this beautiful stretch of coastline we discover a little more, learn A LOT! more.
When the time of our stay draws to a close and we need to return to reality, we eagerly anticipate the next adventure here.
Perhaps that will be the time when we dance the sandbanks again…
