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Fishing Tackle
Mozambique – Benguerra : Saltwater fly fishing in Africa’s Indian Ocean paradise
28 April 2009
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The big lead-headed Clouser Minnow whistles ominously past my right ear and the heavy shooting head lands (a little messily) across the sea’s gently ruffled surface. The light breeze and slow tidal movement combine to move the boat at perfect pace across the rocky pinnacles some thirty metres below us, and this seductive motion aids in taking the fly line the long way down to the sea bed. Perhaps four turns of running line are all that is left on the spool as I take up position to start the retrieve; the line soon straightens in the water, keep the feet apart to allow room on the deck for the big coils, say a quick prayer, count to three, and start ripping it all back.
This is my first cast in new waters, my heart is pounding, I’ve seen the pictures on the lodge walls, I don’t want to smash my knuckles to pieces, I’m trying so hard to make sure that a possible take will not result in total embarrassment for myself, and will this 12 weight really cope in this depth of water ? Palpable trembles in my fingertips as they grip and rip the fly line back give an indication as to my current state of mind; you know what its like, a new place, new guide, that little feeling of apprehension mixed delightfully together with heart busting levels of excitement, and the fisherman’s desire to hook your first fish and perhaps start a new love affair with some different waters.
I must have half the running line lying on the bottom of the boat by now, go to strip back again, everything suddenly goes solid : first thought, “that is one hell of a pinnacle reaching up that far”, second thought, “help, what’s going on?” What felt like stripping straight into a brick wall is in fact now charging off at a horrible speed; try to keep my feet out of the way of the disappearing line, as well as keep hands away from the screeching reel handle, blind panic that might have in fact looked like a little bit of skill (or possibly not !!), fish on, go chase it with the boat as it starts to really motor ! Having to gun the engines and follow what turns out to be 12 lbs of kawa kawa tuna, is that right ? Just how fast can a fish move with all that heavy fly line trailing behind it ?
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Welcome to Mozambique, the place where every fish seems to want to rip your arms off and make you realise just why you go fishing, the country that is trying so hard to stand on its own two feet and show the world just what an incredible place it is.
I would hazard a guess though that many people have never even heard of Mozambique.
Open your world atlas, find Africa, and trail your finger right to the bottom of this massive continent; that as we all know is South Africa. Now take your finger and snake it right, finding the border of South Africa; the next country up on this east coast is Mozambique. A fairly huge place is it not ? Approximately three times the size of Great Britain, its coastline stretches for over 2500 kms, washed as it is by the warm and fish rich Indian Ocean.
Sadly though, Mozambique, like so many African countries, has a recent past involving an extremely bloody and ultimately pointless civil war. The occupying Portuguese granted independence to Mozambique in 1974 and then erupted years of civil war between Frelimo (Frente de Libertacao de Mocambique, a liberation movement) and Renamo (The Mozambique National Resistance Movement). A cease fire was eventually signed in 1992 and this has resulted in political stability, but sadly much of the country still remains economically crippled. There is huge hope though for the future; natural resources are plentiful (arable land, water reserves, extensive hardwood forests, mineral reserves, fish, and the largest gas fields in the southern hemisphere), and tourism is being actively promoted and encouraged. Please do not let a country’s past for one second put you off from travelling to fish what must be some of the most unexplored waters in the world. If we all believed everything we ever heard, none of us would ever leave our front door.
Its all too easy to take a look at some African countries and make a snap decision about going there or not, but to do that is to miss so much. Never in all my travels have I fallen so head over heels in love with a continent. A lot of my work in the last few years has taken me around southern Africa, and the name Mozambique was spoken with revered tones from my very first visit to Namibia : “ Have you been to Mozambique?” No. “Make sure you go, word is getting out, this place is going to go huge.”
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“What do they catch?”.
“Everything.”Simple answer, seemed to be spoken with truth, maybe I should start looking into this place (just how much prompting does one need?). This is how I came to be anxiously hanging on with grim determination to my first kawa kawa, thousands of miles from home, and with about the most ridiculous grin on my face that you could possibly imagine ! Isn’t work a bitch.
Day two at Benguerra Lodge dawns early for me, waking as I do at 5am, screaming reels and burnt fingers interrupting my sleep patterns, but not a sound disturbs the gathering dawn. No gentle waves lap the beach twenty yards from my bed, no breeze shakes the leaves and the birds have only just begun to realise that another perfect day is beginning here in paradise. All seems pretty good to me.
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Coffee and breakfast are taken with undue haste; the lodge’s principal fishing guide, Andrew Parsons, wanders through and says those magic words, “Let’s go fishing, it all looks perfect. There’ll be no lockjaw today…………” Straight out of the dining area, onto the beach, clamber on board the boat, gun the engines and start roaring across waters so calm that they perfectly reflect the huge African sky. The water changes from turquoise to blue to crystal clear in an instant, and back again, as the boat takes us over such diverse terrain, around the back of Benguerra island and down south. Small bait fish leap out of the way, flying garfish skip metres across and out of the water, local dhows ply their more sedate way out to their fishing grounds, and all is as perfect as life can be. No breeze save for the rushing wind of a fast boat, brilliant sunshine, ultra-clear water, the fish are calling. And they call what I do work; I’d pay to do this, make absolutely no mistake. I can’t take the hardship……
Rounding the southern tip of Benguerra Island takes us steadily into deeper water where Andrew carefully plots his way via GPS amongst the multitude of hidden reefs, sunken sandbanks and deep run-off channels. I have never fished like this with the fly, using such heavy lines to get down so deep to the fish, but I am always open to new things, and Andrew Parsons is totally committed to opening up these waters to the sport anglers of the world.
It just so happens that Andrew guides from one of the most special places you could hope to stay in the world, and I do not say that lightly. Benguerra Lodge is quite simply spectacular, and I wish you could have seen the look on my wife’s face when she saw the website pictures of where I was going “working”.
“I’d love to take you, of course I would”, came the garbled defence, “but this is work, plain and simple, and anyway, apparently its not advisable to enter a malaria area when you are pregnant (true, good timing or what!!).”
Have you ever heard a more cast iron defence than that ? All sounds good I know, but she saw the pictures when I got back and in some delirious state of being over tired and a little fractious from the journey back, I am pretty sure I went and promised to take her there next time I went (yes, I’m going back, it really is that good). How often, in all seriousness, could you find a fishing place so perfect for the fisherman and the entire family ? Or perhaps, if you are extremely lucky, what about the perfect honeymoon spot ? “I can’t believe it, look, and they just happen to have world class fishing here, I never knew……” says the groom, or perhaps bridegroom. This fishing is sexy stuff, its cool as hell, it pushes one to all sorts of dream-interrupting superlatives, and it is seriously addictive : getting nailed that far beneath the surface by what in fact could almost be any kind of fish sends a huge frisson of excitement through the casting arm, not to mention causing it to ache like hell some five minutes into another nerve-shredding fight.
The fluffy white clouds framing the massive sky wandered gently across the frame, lost as I am in simply staring at this seemingly virgin world rushing by at twenty knots. “Fish ahead, 11 o’clock”, shouted Andrew, slowing the boat down and grabbing his rod. A fluid cast goes out in front of busting fish, he rips the fly back at lightening pace, strikes hard, rod slams over, line screams out, and I have not even had time to break the camera bag open. We’re on the way to some deep water reefs, but you can hardly ignore fish on the surface; another kawa kawa. I don’t say that lightly though, for of course, as does everything here, it goes and fights like hell.
A few miles further out and Andrew positions the boat so that the gentle tide will push us over the rocky pinnacles as our fly lines finally reach somewhere near the bottom. For those used to sight fishing and instantaneous direct contact to your line, it takes some getting used to : generally casting either uptide or into the breeze, this then allows your seriously heavy 500 or 700 grain shooting head to begin its inexorable journey down to the sea bed, dragging the intermediate running line behind it. You steadily pay this line out from your fingers, mindful of course that fish can nail you on the way down, but really you are setting yourself up to fish the fly back from bottom to top, at depths often ignored by fly fisherman. Make no mistake, seeing fish and casting to them is surely one of fishing’s greatest thrills, but when you finally get to strip this monster Clouser Minnow back from the depths (“You want a big fly for a big fish in Mozambique” is Andrew’s simple and highly effective philosophy), I defy anybody not to fall in love with this style of doing things. Get nailed, see that line literally hiss through the rod rings, smile : its really pretty simple.
“Just what can I hook here Andrew ?”, assuming of course that I am doing things at least half right. Casting such heavy gear is not life’s easiest task, but the fish, I am rather hoping, do not care how untidily my fly line lands some thirty metres above them.
“Barracuda, igno-buses, kingies, job fish, in fact, nearly anything, and maybe the tax man will pay a visit.”
OK, rewind to the above sentence from Andrew : have I totally confused you with what he said to me, because I felt pretty lost !! Its guide speak, he is a man totally involved in what he does, Andrew has become consumed by Mozambique, he knows these waters so well, and of course he has developed his own way of talking about his beloved deep water fly fishing. I will translate……
Me : “What can I catch here ?”
Andrew : “Barracuda”. King mackerel, please, I really want to hook one of these.
“Igno-buses” : a magic word, believe me, it actually means Giant Trevally, and here is how Andrew has got to this abbreviation : Bus Fish in Andrew speak is big fish, Latin name for GT is Caranx Ignobilis, therefore Igno-bus seems a pretty logical conclusion ? Kingfish are trevally in southern Africa (don’t ask me why), so “kingies” means any of a number of different trevally.
“Job fish” : granted, the name hardly conjures up much, but these fish look like solid muscle, have plenty of teeth, fight like hell, and apparently make seriously good eating.
If the tax man pays a visit, you’ve been nailed by a shark, either your fighting fish is no more, or, as has happened to Andrew, a black tip shark goes and hits your fly. Now if that isn’t stripping into a brick wall, then I don’t know what is.
“Nearly anything” : the man is genuine, he gets a serious kick out of fishing this way, never really knowing what you might hook, and I for one am totally sold on it.
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Andrew gets hit big time on our first drift. Line flies out, his 15 weight buckles right over (he plays his fish as hard as I think is possible, but he is out here all the time, the man knows how far you can push your gear), he grins from ear to ear : ”Feels like a mackerel”. Cameras round my neck, trying on the one hand to photograph the fight and on the other keep an eye out for my first ever glimpse of these fearsome predators. The African sun beats down and as ever out here, life is perfect, and the fish is still fighting.
You have to try and understand my shock at seeing such a toothed fish being so effectively caught on the fly. When not “working” abroad, I live and fish in the UK, and apart from pike, we just don’t get things with teeth that big on fly gear. As Andrew went to grab the fish and lift it up for the cameras, I am trying very hard to frame the shots and also control my sense of wonder. What a perfect fish, what astounding symmetry to the body, it isn’t hard to see just why they fight so hard. Common sense also tells me to keep well away from those teeth : now I can see why Andrew tends to use wire traces all the time !! The fish then goes back to haunt more hapless prey.
You could not have scripted it any better : next cast and Andrew is hooked up again, I am now trying to strip my gear as fast as possible to get the cameras out again, and then everything goes tight. “Good gosh, I’ve hooked a fish and it wants to take line” is perhaps what I should have said in my best English accent, but in truth, I am sorry to say, I think simple torrents of open ocean fishing-speak left my mouth as this fish hit the turbo and invited the running line to leave scars on my left hand.
Andrew’s line suddenly goes slack : “Tax man” (a shark has gone and eaten what he hooked !!). My fish has not looked like stopping, Andrew starts the engines to run the fish down a little, I am trying hard to exert maximum pressure and turn it, does it get any better ? My first ever king mackerel eventually comes to the surface, Andrew goes to grab it, and the hook falls out. “Nice fish, maybe 20 (lbs)”. Seems huge to me, but bear in mind now that they catch these monsters to over 50 lbs on the fly.
Next few casts and we seem to have hit Job Fish Grand Central : as I said earlier, not a desperately romantic name, but how they fight. Not the long runs of say a king mackerel or a bonefish, but such prolonged power, using every metre of water above their heads to give you, the paying angler, a very hard time. With dentistry to be proud of, I could catch these things all day long; Andrew says that a good population of green job fish signifies a healthy reef, and as he brought one of perhaps 20 lbs to the boat, who am I to argue ? It all seems pretty healthy to me out here.
A new lump of rock, first cast and then the long drop down, something nails me right at the start of the retrieve; its not like stripping into a brick wall, rather a pick-up truck. Immediate evidence of huge power, no great speed, and me knowing pretty soon that I am not going to land this fish.
“Yessssssssus, that’s a bus fish man, watch he doesn’t smoke you in the bush”, said Andrew.
Rough translation : “Yes/Jesus (from Afrikaans), that seems to be a heavy fish you have hooked Henry, do be careful that he does not go and run you straight into a snag.”
I am leant into my 12 weight as much as I can, there’s nothing I can do to make any impression on whatever I have hooked and soon enough everything goes horribly solid. Would fishing be anything near what it is if we went and landed everything ? Fishing is the boss, and just occasionally it likes to rear up and bite one in the ass, and of course I am going to say the fish I lost was a monster : I am a fisherman after all.
To fish new waters like these in Mozambique with any form of success requires the services of a specialist fishing guide. To then take fly fishing almost to another level takes somebody really special : Andrew Parsons is this man. Growing up in South Africa saw him catch more big fish from the shore than you or I will ever see in a lifetime, but some nine years ago he came in search of something new in Mozambique.
“This is where I knew I would catch proper fish on the fly.”
A bold statement of intent, but results have borne out what Andrew felt was possible in these stunning waters. When he first started seriously fly fishing around the Bazaruto Archipelago, he caught some pretty good fish, but by his own admittance, results were hardly what Andrew thought possible from such rich waters. Something just was not quite right; all local information pointed to a wealth of fish in the area, but after much experimenting and planning, and of course meeting different clients from all over the world, Andrew came to the conclusion that the rapidly developing technology of ultra-fast sinking lines would finally allow him to get big flies down deep, to where the big fish were. Big fish were indeed present and Andrew stands behind the thrill of truly never knowing just what you might go and get connected to.
I am sure that some die-hard sight fisherman might quibble over casting and then allowing a 700 grain shooting head to take a monster Clouser Minnow up to forty metres down, but who really cares ? You are casting the line, you’re stripping it back, but above all, its just bloody good fun getting nailed that deep. Andrew of course has to use an onboard GPS and fish finder to help him pinpoint the tight areas of reef that he likes to fish and it really helps him in building up strong mental pictures of what you are fishing over and exactly where the fish like to lie. Its kind of mixing conventional boat fishing know-how with ultra modern fly fishing methods, and it works.
But as with most proficient guides that you or I have fished with throughout the world, the best ones know what works in their waters, and they simply do not believe in then going and over-complicating the issue.
“What flies work best Andrew ?”, I asked over a cooling drink one night, half expecting him to pull out a monstrous box of garish flies for me to spend some time photographing.“Its simple man, bus fish like big flies, and nothing’s more effective out here than the Clouser Minnow. 4/0 will catch you lots of rats and mice (translation : small fish !!), but 6/0 is going to catch bus fish.”
Fly conversation over in one very easy sentence and I can go to bed with aching arms and a line burnt palm.
Andrew is taking this deep water fly sport to the extremes and he needs conditions to conspire to allow it to work properly, as indeed one needs for all fishing. Think about the time it takes for an admittedly heavy fly line to sink over thirty metres and then put that together with fishing over tight patches of rock and reef. Logic now dictates that if there is too much breeze, you will be pushed over the fish holding areas before you can get the fly right down. Andrew is a realist and knows full well that there will be days when he can not take his clients for the deep stuff and as such he offers other kinds of fishing; kind of match conditions to techniques.
There is actually a lot of top and shallow water fly fishing on offer, all boat based; work poppers hard and you can have a crack at all kinds of trevally (including igno-buses), king and queen mackerel, sailfish (at the right times of year), etc.. There are bus milkfish around as well, but they are waiting for a determined effort from some determined fly anglers with the right flies. Andrew knows where they are………
If you are open to a bit of conventional lure and small jig fishing, then have a go at this if the wind decides to pick up. Andrew does it all, in fact he is one of the most rounded guides I have ever fished with; his primary passion may well be fly fishing, but he likes to fish anyway and is seriously proficient at all of them. Growing up in South Africa makes these guys into seriously confident and proficient anglers.
The fact that Andrew works as a guide in a paradise setting makes life rather special. Benguerra Island is part of a four island archipelago lying some 25 kms off the Mozambique mainland; its about 10 by 5 kms and the whole area is a National Park. The lodge opened in April 1990 and ever since has been catering to those who seek the really exclusive holiday destinations; its the kind of place you go to and then don’t shout about because you do not want everybody going there. You might notice that they opened before the official ending of the civil war, but being on an island some distance offshore meant that time seemingly passed it by and thus hostilities never reached these tranquil shores. Everything to build the lodge though had to come on a supply vessel from South Africa, as local infrastructure was nonexistent. The local “politics” have at times made running such a special place “interesting”, but the owners and managers are totally committed to working with Mozambique’s deep desire to put itself back on the tourist map. Plenty of people visit Mozambique, in fact the more I have been looking into it all, the more I am seeing just how big the tourist scene is becoming. But serious saltwater flyfishing is still in a relative infancy and people like Andrew are helping to push the boundaries and really discover just what you and I can go and catch.
There’s some mighty fine fishing all over the globe for an incredible array of species, but to overlook Africa is to make a cardinal mistake. Sure, you can go to places with stronger infrastructures and easier accessibility, but just what about us fishermen remaining some of the world’s greatest travellers? There is every chance that once you start going to Africa you will never be able to quieten the desire to go back; start looking deeply into the fishing on offer and that desire will become an uncontrollable urge. Africa is that special.
Isn’t fishing just about the greatest excuse to go and see places like Benguerra ?