As time waits for no one, the month of November drew ever closer. Big changes were happening in our lives, but one thing was sure to remain constant for now, digging your toes into the sand, the smell of the fresh ocean air, surrounded by desert on the one side, the ocean on the other, Namibia remains a place where your soul can breathe.
The desert dirt road becomes smooth under your tyres and the brown dust trail starts to fade. A mirage of civilisation is sure to appear on the horizon, the lack of human footprint on the surrounding approach supports your theory on the mirage even though you have traveled this road many times before. From experience you know that the mirage will eventually realise into a small little coastal town, with a sign as you enter, sure to tug at the heart strings of anyone returning for a visit, Welcome to Henties Bay.
A quick customary stop at the top of the dune to have a look at the ocean and then the final stretch to our accommodation. You point the nose of the Amarok in a North Westerly direction and there you go, it knows the way by now.
Unfortunately the Rush of Blue team was down in numbers this time around, but there is always next year, pull in guys (or girls). The week or two that ensued left us with many a thought to ponder on before for the next Skeleton Coast adventure, but as always some lasting memories of battles won and lost were deeply engraved.
Planning plays a vital role in preparing for such a trip and having an idea of what to expect can make or break your adventure. Always consider the weather. A good pre-indication are the storms down in the Western Cape in South Africa. This usually has a subsequent impact on the condition of the sea, especially the swell in Namibia. Adventures are often set in stone well in advance and you are pretty much stuck with the weather you are dealt, but at least you can plan accordingly on short notice. Try to allow yourselves a minimum of 10 days of fishing time. If you do happen to catch two whole weeks of bad weather, then you are pretty unlucky and probably wont catch any fish in good weather in any case. If conditions look great when you arrive, make sure to take full advantage. Our two week forecast seemed all but perfect initially, yet we soon realised how quickly this could change, lesson learned.
After checking in at our accommodation and offloading the vehicle, we headed to the beach for a sun-downer and a throw or two at the “Spens”. Here you are pretty much guaranteed a fish or three and surprisingly has yielded some really fine specimens, in fact the biggest kob of our adventures since 2010 was taken here, 119cm. True to form, in no time we managed a couple of kob. This set the tone for the next few days. Dad kept record of our catches and between the two of us we managed to catch and release in excess of a hundred fish in the coming days.
The swell was on its way down, and on the Friday it would reach a chilled 1.1 meter. We had been taking it easy, the fish were biting and the catches were plentiful. We hit the dirt road from St Nowhere at a leisurely 6.30am. In times past and when you were working hard for fish, this would have been a strict 4.30am, raring to go. We turned from the salt road at one of the designated turn-offs that led you to a fishing spot. They have really made it easy with the big sign boards. These roads are badly corrugated, so hold on to your teeth. The ocean looked flat and even better as we approached. We pulled up to our favourite spot and I quickly made a few casts with artificials, but nothing, I could not reach the sandbank today, so I was unable to put my lure in the strike zone.
Dad made his first cast with bait, he got a big pull within seconds. I decided to bench the lure setup for a bit and get in on the action. In no time I was bending, double ups, will take that all day! The kob were wild and we were catching specimens in the 80cm plus range on every cast.
The setup required a small bait, a 4 or 5 ounce sinker, and a relatively long cast in excess of 100m to reach the desired spot. If you did not make the distance, you were likely to wait a bit longer for a bite, or get a pull from one of the spotties patrolling the deeper channel.
The excitement and anticipation after each cast you sent flying was tangible.
It was great not having hundreds of other fishermen around trying to cast onto the same spot from all directions. There is no unspoken rule of courtesy in Namibia, well is there anywhere these days? If other fishermen notice that the fish are coming out, they pull in, right next to you, and with comments like does the ocean belong to you, you tend to rather look the other way and murmur a few swear words to yourself. Be sure that tomorrow the spot will be looking like a bamboo forest, filled with squatters hoping to catch and keep their limit. First lesson learnt the hard way, actually a couple of years earlier already, make hay while the sun shines and be careful who you tell about catches.
While I was busy having a quick coffee and rusk at the Amarok to replenish some of the energy expended the morning, dad got pulled flat by what we thought was definitely a spotty. Dad was holding on tight as the line fizzed off his reel in bursts of speed. There is a reef not too far away, and the fish was heading in that direction. I knew that dad was aware of the reef, but I still felt the need to warn him about it. This made him put a little extra pressure on the fish, pop, off… hmmm, next lesson, rather keep your mouth shut when someone else is busy fighting a fish, amateur move by myself, sorry dad!
Dad calmly rebaited and cast into the same spot. He was still walking back from the water’s edge when the rod was nearly pulled from his hands. Vas, again, zzzz, zzzz, this time I hovered at the shore break to perhaps be of better assistance. A similar fight ensued and we were quietly speculating the result being that of another spotty.
After a few minutes I saw what I was sure to be a silver flash in the rising swell, rule two HP, RULE TWO, and keep your mouth shut.
When the big tail broke the surging wave, there was no more hiding it, dad saw the large silver tail thrashing in the churned up sandy water. Patience, I knew dad had the experience, so I kept a close presence at the water’s edge, ready to pounce on the first opportunity to help slide the fish up the side. Working the waves and backwash with a big fish at the end of your line requires some experience (and a bit of luck). Many fishermen have been left with tears in their eyes and only a story of the one that got away after this point.
Dad managed to turn the fish’s head and with the help of a surge, the fish slid onto the side of the bank. Caught up in the hype of the moment, I grabbed the fish by the scissors of the mouth, still in the wash and thrashing around a bit. I managed to move the fish a little further up, while dad kept the pressure, until I felt a sharp pain in my thumb. Dad had now hooked a double up on the same hook.
I was left with an “eina” tear in my thumb from the hook, stupidity nearly ruined the rest of my fishing trip, thankfully it wasn’t in the hand that controls the spool on my multiplier. Lesson, focus!
The big silver body lay on its side on the wet beach sand. I raced back to the bakkie to cover my thumb and grab the camera for a few pictures. Dad struggled to lift the fish, not wanting to grab the fish by the gill plates and cause unnecessary damage. Photos done, not quite our best, but at least there is proof.
No sooner was the fish out, when dad was standing waste deep in the water holding the beauty upright in order to ensure she was fully revived. Go make lots of babies for us to catch in future. Every catch successfully released makes a difference, hopefully it is a mind-set that will catch on with fellow fishermen. Each one release one. High five dad, super catch, 112cm of awesome.
We headed back to our accommodation for an early lunch and a bit of a rest before our afternoon session. Upon returning, we found the spot occupied by no less than 7 vehicles. There were a few fish coming out, but not quite like the morning. Unfortunately this left us with no alternative but to go in search of fish elsewhere. Dad and I had a chuckle about how predictable this was, a little sour at ourselves, but so we learn, again.
Scratching around at some other well known spots, the lures proved to be successful, albeit a wet affair.
The weather turned a bit after that day. The swell picked up and the waves broke far out and caused big rolling white water all the way to the beach. The fishing proved to be much more of a challenge than the first week. We had to work harder to find the fish, and the really nice size ones were nowhere to be found.
Our early lunches and afternoon rests turned into a quick snack at the water side, putting in the hours now, if only we did this when the going was good. We targeted galjoen in the rough and dirty water, they were plentiful and served for great fun on the light tackle.
We did manage the odd better size kob still. Being able to drive on the beach means that you can transport everything, including the kitchen sink along with you. We always try to take extra care when handling fish, a big plastic container filled with water helps to keep smaller fish off the sand while you remove the hooks etc.
Unfortunately the big steenbras never made an appearance. We managed a couple smaller ones, but yet to break the 10 kilogram mark. Perhaps next year we thought, as we have at the end of every trip over the past 7 years.
A lesson hard learned by tourists that are not familiar with beach driving and salt pans… stick to the designated roads, the already tread trails, else you end up eating into our fishing time. Dad lent a helping hand and some expert advice. Out there cellphone signal is scarce, and it is a good 20 kilometer walk to the nearest residents. When the weather is bad, you are lucky to come across fishermen or other tourists, especially if you have wandered off route.
However beautiful this coast my be, it is the desert and a very desolate place. Be careful out there!
Harder, faster, stronger, we will be back. In search of those big ones that got away we are eagerly counting the days. Get ready, service those reels, check that braid and its nearly time again to go get bent in one of the most beautiful places to wet a line.
