Fishing Where Few Have Been Before … Part 5

Part 5: The conclusion of this amazing experience ... It was quite a long haul through the night from Fogo. At about nine o’clock in the morning we found the first drop-offs that were worth a shot. The whole gang was really up for some serious jigging after a decent breakfast in preparation for a great day’s fishing. The first fish on the deeper jigs was another good rockcod that I got in about 80m of water. Normally, if the rockcod get to your jig before the ambers or GTs, it is a good indication that the ambers and GTs are not there. With this in mind we moved. At the next spot we were quite surprised when Morgan got a tille kingfish on a seriously large jig. That was the first tille kingfish that I have seen on a jig that size in 80m of water. Big jigs were a little scarce but I did have a big, shiny, stainless steel spoon especially given to me by a friend who uses them to great effect. Blayne put this on and started to fish it fairly fast and quite high up in the water column. The look on his face was one of utter disbelief when something grabbed the spoon and took off across the surface at 100 miles an hour. It was screaming in one direction and then suddenly changed course to shouts of, “It’s off, it’s on!” with the old salts all going, “That’s a wahoo!” I could see Blayne’s expression change at the mention of the fish. If it was landed, it would be another first for him and the intensity and speed of the fight was intense. Eventually we managed to get the wahoo to the boat and decided that wahoo steaks were on the menu for dinner. There is something about catching and eating a fish for the first time – the taste is something that you will always remember. A very happy Blayne poses with his couta and wahoo. After the wahoo it went pretty quiet and we decided that it was time to press on. The trolling gear was put out with a big deep-diver on the heavy stick and some teasers on another. Just as we had settled down and were discussing our options and movements, the big trolling outfit went away. Blayne was offered the rod, which he accepted with all the enthusiasm of youth. The old salts were getting a little blasé and perhaps just a bit tired at this point. What should have been a fairly quick couta or perhaps a GT, which would have taken a little longer, it started to look a lot more serious and speculation was rife as to what could be putting up such a dogged fight. After a good 20 to 25 minutes, the rest of us were extremely curious and perhaps a bit envious that it was not us on the rod because there was no doubt that this was a very different fish. In fact, it had fought a bit like the fish that Duarte had lost on the Rapala after a strong fight and which we never got to see. By now Blayne was starting to feel the burn and had to be encouraged to not let his stance slip and to keep the pressure up on the fish. Just when it seemed that the fight was going on indefinitely, the fish suddenly just gave up and came right up to the stern of the boat. I think everybody shouted at once – dogtooth! Nobody had suspected it, nor mentioned it and couldn’t believe it when this fish just turned on its side and popped up for all to see. With hindsight it was a typical dogtooth fight. Knowing how careful one has to be when taking one of these fish out of the water and having to get it back in as quickly as possible, we decided to first put the lip grip in its mouth and pull it a little just to let it recover before we whipped it out for a quick pic. Somehow the lip grip grabbed the lure or knocked the lure out and without the grip in the jaw the fish ever so slowly turned, righted itself and swam away. We could easily have gaffed it but we didn’t. I knew that Blayne would feel a lot happier, knowing that the fish had survived, which it might not have done if we had put it on board for a pic. Craig told us that in all the time he had fished the Lazarus Banks that it was the biggest dogtooth he had seen. This was no doubt the fish of the trip as a species, even though we got it trolling. There is always something special about a dogtooth, especially when you are not expecting to see or catch one. It was another first for Blayne and another PB. We did not stop talking about it for the rest of the day. Once trolling resumed, the apathy amongst the older members had disappeared. It was quickly decided that Morgan was next on the rod and the order worked out after that. Around four o’clock that afternoon the reel screamed off again and Morgan was there in a flash. We quickly realised it wasn’t another doggie, but a really good-sized wahoo. We had no sooner taken the pics and got that fish released than I spotted a shoal of fish up on the surface, moving quickly. I grabbed my heavy plugging stick and launched a GT Ice Cream in their direction. I could not believe it when a relatively small fish leapt about 6m into the air in a long bound, raced towards my plug and immediately engulfed it. I could not help wondering what small fish would come and eat a plug this size out here in the middle of the ocean? I was even more surprised when I saw that it was a rainbow runner. They can be really aggressive on lures at times but with a small mouth it is normally the smaller lures that are more successful on these fish. We found another mark to jig on and very quickly Duarte hooked a good GT on the popper which came off. Blayne got a couple of really good-sized pickhandles and a nice jobfish on the Candy jig before we called it a day and decided to press on through the night. At this point we were starting to get the feeling that we didn’t have too much time left before the big westerly moved up the coast. However, it was at least two to three days away and we were awaiting a more accurate forecast. Barry holding his rainbow runner. Morgan holding his wahoo. None of us had ever been to Mozambique Island before and we were in need of some fresh water for showering as the boat had a blockage on the desalination plant. That was a good enough reason for us to pop in and explore. The closer we got, the more fascinating the old fort and the island looked. Once we went around the corner onto the inside of the island, we were really impressed at the beautiful old buildings and fort. Mozambique Island was the capital of Mozambique until the 1930s, but the Arabs, Portuguese, Dutch and English all had an influence on it at various times. Nobody is really sure how long the Arabs had been there, but the Portuguese had already built a fort there long before Jan van Riebeeck landed in the Cape. The history of the place, the old coins and the colonial buildings are absolutely amazing. We went ashore, toured the castle and then hired some Chinese motorbikes where everything works the other way around. We then drove around the island. How we never had a serious accident I don’t know, but there were lots of near misses! We had a wonderful lunch and a few beers at a local restaurant. By the time we had finished, our water had been loaded and we had just enough time for a few sundowners on the boat, looking at the most amazing setting before we up-anchored and continued on our trip. Going ashore at Mozambique Island. The imminent westerly had become a bit more ominous and we really needed to be a lot closer to Pemba before it hit us. We therefore decided to sail through the night to a place that Craig knew of where we could fish in the morning. When we arrived there it looked amazing. The water was absolutely crystal clear and there was a huge turquoise patch of shallow water bordered by a reef and then a deep drop-off on the outside. It was a massive area and I really thought that we were going to get a lot of fish. We fished extremely hard all along the edge of the reef, throwing GT Ice Creams and poppers into the shallow water and bringing them back over the drop-off. Blayne lost a fish on the new GT Ice Cream and I had one good GT of about 25 to 30 kg come up and take my Needle Nose, but the hooks didn’t stick. Those were the only two bites that we had in a whole morning session of fishing. There were lots of small one-man boats everywhere. We went in amongst a couple of them and jumped overboard to have a look. The guys snorkelled, filmed lures in the water and did not see a single fish. By now we realised that the westerly that was coming was a big one and that we should move as far north as we could. Once again we put out the trolling rigs and set sail. Two or three hours into the trip we had an amazing aerial display from a couta that ate one of the lures. The fish shot right out of the water with the lure in its mouth before screaming off in the opposite direction. Blayne took the rod and got the couta out and very shortly after that was onto a good-sized wahoo. I was starting to think that I was wrong about the place being fished out. However, it went stone dead again and we never had another bite other than a small marlin which came up, gave the teasers a shake and left. We kept going towards Pemba with the westerly looming behind us. I was on watch at around 22:30 when a strange thing happened. We were following the 50m contour, which was quite close in and there had been a fair amount of shipping. We were about a mile offshore when I thought I saw a tiny light ahead. At times it appeared to be a long way away and then at other times it appeared to be very close. Barry with his rockod. When I realised that it was really close, I decided to wake Craig. It almost looked like somebody sitting on a raft, smoking a cigarette. While I was talking to Craig through his cabin hatch, lights suddenly started coming on all around us. I don’t know how we missed these guys, but it was those same little one-man boats fishing a mile offshore late at night. Craig explained that it is now law in Mozambique to have a light on your boat. Many of these guys therefore carry tiny battery-powered lights which they only turn on when they see an approaching vessel. The bite must have been pretty slow when we were approaching because nobody seemed to have spotted us until we were almost running them over! We rounded the point into Pemba just after midnight. When we motored into the mooring there was still no sign of the westerly, but between then and sunrise the next morning it came whistling through. It got stronger and stronger as the morning progressed. We knew that our trip was over and there would be no more fishing till we got home. The emotions are always so mixed – disappointed that it is over, but happy to be on your way home. Before we left we were treated to some very quick but spectacular displays of something that I had heard about from people who had spent time in Pemba. The tuna came up busting not far from shore and certainly within casting distance of the yacht. Before we could start unpacking our gear again, they were gone. I believe they can be caught off the lawn at the hotel and that they often come within casting range of the beach. That is an experience I would still like to have. Perhaps the opportunity will come around when we do a trip with Craig to Lazarus. For the anglers on this trip, it was an experience we will never forget!