By: Robert Thomas
We rose early to catch a quick cup of coffee and double check we had the packed all our gear. I boiled the water and made the coffee as grace went through the belongings; hat? Check. Sunglasses? Check. Long sleeves? Check.
We were prepping for a day of fishing on the Namibian coast, departing from the town of Swakopmund. Swakopmund, is a very nice, clean, orderly city; much different than what we had been used to in Africa. When driving from the moon-like landscape and prodigious sand dunes which encapsulates the city you think that you are entering a Californian sea side town as opposed to one of the biggest metropolis in one of the poorer nations on earth.
The town being orderly and all, we were able to walk easily from our clean, modern hostel right to the pier where we were to get our fishing licenses and launch the boat (in typical Africa fashion, we didn’t actually receive our fishing permits until the fishing was over and returned back to the pier with our catch).
Grace and I are usually quite punctual and today was no different. We arrived at the boat launch at 730 – a good thirty minutes before ‘meeting time’. 8:15 rolls around and it’s grace, myself and a nice German fellow named Nihls. 8:30 (a half-hour late) and our boat arrives coupled with its lean, patchy bearded captain from South Africa; equipped with a cigarette which (I think) was surgically attached to the side of his mouth. 8:45 and the rest of our German passengers arrive who slept poorly on their Tempurpedic beds and were held up by the ‘ghastly’ server who couldn’t bring their espresso on time. Personalities aside, everyone was together and it was time to get to it.
It was a brief 20 minute boat ride up the famed skeleton coast to the fishing grounds, a perfect time to enjoy a couple of those complimentary beverages they had on-board. Fishing buzz firmly intact and a big jigging rod placed in my hand, the fish had no chance.
The setup was simple; heavy jighead tipped with bait at the bottom and an additional baited hook about 12″ up the line.
The method was simple; keep the bait at the bottom and you will catch fish.
The skeleton coast is known for its strong winds, heavy currents and storms that pop out of nowhere. We broke an anchor rope that day because the currents and winds were pushing the boat so rapidly the rope just couldn’t hold. We also broke a window on the boat on the return journey, gunning the boat over a heavy, wind soaked 5 meter swell. So keeping your bait on the bottom wasn’t as easy as it sounds this day. We fished a couple of spots, catching the irregular little catfish here and there, but after a couple of readjustments, we were onto school upon school of scrappy little mangrove jacks and catfish of increasing size. With a little time and lots of wasted bait, all 8 of us on board we’re bringing in fish after fish.
A few hours of this and everybody was happy with how the day was going. This is when our dastardly captain took a chance. Instead of heading away from shore and maybe picking up a couple more little fish and having an easy day, he opted to take us closer to land. The waves got bigger as the water became more shallow. The water turned from blue to brown as the sand from the bottom was being picked up from the crashing waves. But as most things in life, the big prizes never come easy.
Our ‘Captain Ahab’ guided the ship masterfully in these thin waters and gave us a good, quality shot at moving up the fish food chain and now targeting sharks! The murky waters are where these aqua demons use their superior radar equipment to capture and eat the catfish who become lost in the murk.
The take felt the same as before, just two light taps at the tip of the rod, but when I tightened the line and set the hook the rod bend was definitely different. The fully tightened drag on the oversize jigging reel began to spin and the heavy duty monofilament began to stretch. We were onto a goodie! The shark pulled and swam where he wanted to, stuck to the bottom all the time but I kept the pressure on. Eventually, more out of curiosity than my skill, the shark came close to the boat to see what he was attached to, this is when the real fight began. A big tail slap and, whoosh, the fight was on again. This time the shark pulled line and dove with frenetic energy. I sorely didn’t want to lose this trophy catch, so I held on tight and reeled as fast as I could when the shark gave way. Eventually, the resistance of the flexible rod, stretchy line and bearing controlled drag allowed me to subdue the beast.
This was one of the most exciting catches of my lifetime, but it wasn’t over for the day yet. Our boat managed to bring in three more carpet sharks that day. I was able to hook into another two which I (graciously) allowed our new friend Nihls and Grace to reel in, so they could experience the battle and the joy that I felt only moments prior.
When Grace and I left for Africa, we didn’t know what we would find. What we found that day was great fishing and a memory of a lifetime.
Great post about an awesome country. About your south American posts… Where is the mention of the world’s best travelling companions??? Haha Keep up the good work!