Vagabonds on the Skeleton Coast

[Vagabond]

After our fishing in the Okavanga (see Freshwater section) we explored the saltpans of Etosha National Park (its the size of Switzerland) and the Erongo Mountains for more birds, such as the elusive Rockrunner (we found several) and a few mountain animals - the tiny Klipspringer antelope and the Southern Porcupine. Then across the Namib desert to Walvis Bay.

The Namib – the empty, tireless, arid, unforgiving, shimmering, searing and pitiless Namib. Bounded by mountains to the east and the Skeleton Coast to the west.

We had booked a day’s beach fishing here with a local guide - someone who knew where the hotspots were, and more importantly, where the "no-go" areas were.

Enter those areas and you are likely to be arrested on suspicion of diamond smuggling, with the prospect of several days in jail being fed laxatives in case you have swallowed any diamonds!


Our beach fishing day started with a 20-mile drive southward from Walvis Bay - down the beach, then into the sand dunes. “We are looking for a lagoon where the baitfish are driven in and trapped by the predators” said Terence, our guide. Sounded a good place! However, several kilometres short of our target we found the track eroded away by the last spring tide. An attempt to drive inland and around it was baulked by some large and very steep-faced dunes – in the hollows between these giant dunes were the remains of vehicles that had tried and failed to get through! It looked like the sandpit that Jabba the Hutt used to lower his prisoners into in one of the “Star Wars” series.

We eventually decided to try our luck just short of the erosion, where there was a gulley that Terence thought would hold a few bream. He was right – we got about a dozen fish of two species - Westcoast Steenbras,




and “Blacktail” (White Bream).



Now there was a mad sprint to return the 20 miles across the sand to Walvis Bay, drive another 20 miles north to Swakopmund, then another ten miles north along the beach. We were told to eat our lunch as Terence drove! Lots of driving so far, not a lot of fishing, but we had faith in Terence, who was obviously looking for the signs that 18 years as a guide had taught him to look for.

We eventually stopped at one gulley that looked the same as any one of a score of other gulleys, but Terence meant business here, and started chopping steenbras into the surf. He also pegged a large net bag in the surf, containg something extremely whiffy he produced from a coolbox.

Out went half a steenbras on a large hook and wire trace.

We waited.

…and waited.

…and in just half an hour the line started to pull seaward.

“Lean into him” said Terence.

I did.

Something out there was moving steadily but inexorably towards Brazil.

“Let him run” said Terence.

I did. (No choice really, this fish was gonna run, whatever)

After a while the run stopped, with about three-hundred yards gone.



“Pump, then wind, then pump and wind again” said Terence.

I did, and got about a hundred yards back.

The fish didn’t like it.

“Let him run” said Terence.

I did (Hobsons choice again)

After another three-hundred yard run, the fish stopped.

“Pump and wind – let him run – pump and wind – let him run.”

This pattern was repeated, time and again over the next half-hour, then I seemed to be winning.

“ I can see him – fifth breaker out” said Terence.

Fifth breaker out? That’s bloody miles !

By now the strain was telling. Anyone who has played a big fish from a boat with a stand-up stick of about seven feet will know what that feels like. I was using a 14 ft beach caster, standing in soft sand, and with the reel in the unfamiliar (to me) South African position near the butt.

The leverage of 14 ft the fish could exert on the angler was frightful, I started doing physics equations re the Law of Moments in my head. Discouraging answers!

“Pump and wind” said Terence.

My arms ached, my legs ached, my back screamed for mercy. The sun seared from above, and the reflection off the white sand seared from below.

“Dunno how much more of this I can take” I muttered.

“Rubbish, you’re doing fine” said Norma.

My left hand cramped – like that of Santiago el Campione in “The Old Man and the Sea”

Unlike Santiago I had no raw bonito “to chew and thus nourish the hand” but Norma had the water canteen, and fed me a few sips of water.

My hand eventually uncramped.

“Three breakers out” said Terence “Tighten the drag a bit”

I’m winning!

No I’m not, against the tightened drag the fish made its longest run yet - all of five-hundred yards.

I could see the backing.

“Do people often get cleaned up?” (ie run out of line) I asked

“Oh yes” said Terence.

“That’s gonna be me” I thought.

The fish stopped.

“Back up” suggested Terence.

More water, and a puff of nitroglycerine from my emergency inhaler.

I backed up

I kept backing up, as any attempt to wind just had the fish getting its head back out to sea. I must have backed up nigh on four hundred yards. Terence would not have approved, but I had a thumb on the spool to increase the drag and keep the fish coming (dangerous, but after 67 years fishing I do have an educated thumb)

Norma came back with me, offering encouragment and taking pictures – you can see my “backing up” tracks in the sand, and also see, about a quarter mile away, Terence going into the surf.




Terence in the surf? Blimey, he must think he can reach the fish with the gaff!

“Get down there and take pictures” I gasped.

Down the beach went Norma.

Yes, Terence had it on the gaff.




I staggered down the beach, reeling in as I went.

“Help me pull it ashore” said Terence

I tried.

“Are you pulling?” asked Terence.

“Er yes,” I said

“No I’m not really” I thought “ I’m just about knackered”

But we got it ashore.




Just over nine feet long, Bronze Whaler Shark, Terence’s estimate – between 280 and 300 pounds. Tagged and released.



Not too bad for an old boy of 74.

My arms, legs and back ached for two days……

Terence, you’re a bloody genius!

After the fishing we drove back east across the Namib, choosing minor roads and tracks and driving slowly to look for the specialist desert birds. The reward was two sorts of bustard, desert larks, and the Desert Tractrac Chat.

Then up the notorious Spreetshoogt Pass into the mountains, where the rare Herero Chat was the final highlight of our trip. Back east to Windhoek, and into the Namibian Airline plane to eat, sleep, eat again whilst we flew back up the longitude to Gatwick overnight. On the way out we had discovered Namibian Airlines to be excellent, except that they have the most uncomfortable seats of all the civilian airlines we have used. On the way back, however, the aircraft was three parts empty, so we could stretch out across three seats each and sleep in relative comfort.

The food in Namibia was excellent – when we were fishing or birding we had biltong and tomatoes as iron rations for midday. For the evening meal there were ostrich, gemsbok, kudu and eland steaks whenever you needed a change from beefsteak. Eland is a bit like horsemeat, but kudu and gemsbok each have a delightful gamy herby flavour of their own. Ostrich is like super-turkey! Breakfasts were huge, Full English best describes them, with a savory mince offered alongside the usual egg, mushrooms, sausage, bacon and black pudding.

In Walvis Bay we sampled the seafoods - octopus, oyster, prawn, and several fish, of which kingclip is the best. The “Raft” in Walvis Bay, built on a small pier, is one of the best restaurants we have eaten in. It offers excellent food, very efficient waitresses, smart service, reasonable prices, and is superb value for money.

[fishypaul]

a super read vagabond,what a battle you had with that shark,
make our whiting bashing on the beach look a trifle tame

[pingu]

awsome is all i can say

great read again and what a result

dave

[mithrandir]

You are a very lucky couple to be able to fish such venues. Looks like you had a great time and well done on the bronze whaler. Watch the old nitro, not good when you continue to load the body. Seems to me like you need a ghillie on these trips, and I am more than willing to sacrifice my job and the sunny shores of England to help you out next time

[Vagabond]

Originally Posted by mithrandir

Watch the old nitro, not good when you continue to load the body.

LOL Last year, I found myself hiking through hilly terrain in a tiger reserve in Assam. Steep hills, and a long way to go before dark. Its one thing walking tiger country by daylight, but not so dusty at night!

Use nitro, or take your time and become tiger bait, was the choice - so nine doses were taken that day. Not something I do often though.

[Norfolkboy]

Cracking read again

[Lman]

another great report
now thats what i call beach fishing great battle well done

[Twiddler]

What a fantastic read and fish.....I do envy you for being able to fish such beautiful places.

I don't think I would ever be able to land such a mahoooosive fish...my greates respect Sir

[Fishing Forum Admin]

brilliant read just very jealous what a fish from the shore !!!

[Greenheart]

Great read & an awsome fish Vagabond. Very well done