The crunch of the dry sea sand under your feet is only drowned out by the sound of your heart pounding out of your chest. Small beads of sweat run down your cheeks and evaporate before reaching your collar.
I keep checking over my shoulder to see if Jay is still keeping up, I feel bad for pushing him this far, but it will be worth it if he hooks into that bus, surely then all will be forgiven?
HP: “I promise, do you see where those two seagulls are sitting, that is as far as we will go and if the spot does not look good, we will just make a throw there in any case”
Jayson: “That is what you said about the three previous spots, for the last 5 kilometers…”
HP: “Yes, but that looks like the spot. It looked so good from 2 kilometers away; plus why would the gulls be sitting there, there must be some food in the water…
Jayson: “Maybe they are just sitting there waiting for someone to keel over from exhaustion, after walking a hundred kilometres in this heat, and then eat them…”
HP: “Whatever man”
Rolling his eyes, Jay continues on. I am sure he is thinking, why do I always fall for this? Or maybe he has a genuine trust in my self-proclaimed mastery at finding the right spot. Either way, we trudge onward.
(Trudge – verb: walk slowly and with heavy steps, typically because of exhaustion or harsh conditions, or noun: a difficult or laborious walk. Sounds about right)
Similar scenes have played out more times than I can count. The golden boy and I have covered more kilometres in chasing the spot just beyond the next bend than actually spending time with a line in the water. Is it worth it; finding the perfect formation, the few to no one else have fished there before spot, the possibility of that catch of a life-time?
How often has the fruit been worth the labour? Or is the anticipation half the reward, the time spent with your favourite fishing wing-man the other half, and the success just the cherry on top?
We are often rewarded with good fish after putting in the steps like this kob that was caught at Springs,
or perhaps some of the kob I have caught on the beach at Boknes,
or the buses that sometimes do make an appearance.
True, sometimes the catches don’t come and I have to eat humble pie and apologise to the “I told you so” wielding lil’bro of mine, but I don’t mind. The excitement, curiosity and passion for the adventure will always push me to just beyond the next bend.
Some tips to remember
- Wear enough sunsreen, and take extra
- Pack light and dress comfortable (we always pack to much, for those “in-case” scenarios, e.g. in-case the fish want the fire-red minnows that have never yielded a bite, or maybe the shiny blue ones or perhaps the black ones, can’t leave the green ones, just in-case… get the picture…
- Take enough fluids, especially water, and perhaps some snacks for energy
- Make sure your camera’s batteries are charged, it is a long way back to carry that trophy fish
- A long walk there means an “even longer” walk back
- Never attempt this with people who aren’t already family, unless you are trying to cut back on your list of mates
- Never never ever do this with a girlfriend, ever, never ever. They do not understand the insanity and you will be hearing about it for most of the time, hungry, thirsty, tired, you want to still go further, are you @&$!#% insane? and now you are single…
