A Great Day Fishing in Mozambique with NB Safaris

SSGBIV

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My friend and intrepid adventurer Neil Barnard of NB Safaris called me up one day and said, “how would you and Debbie like to come over and visit our old friend Charles Lee in Inhassoro and do some fishing?”

“We’ll be right over”, I replied.

On the dusty ride up from Vilanculos to Inhassoro, I learned that the fishing would be a tournament, The Deep Blue Bill Challenge, and the Captain’s Meeting was set for this evening. Tired as we were from traveling, we pitched up to Rosha Family Seafood Lapa to size up the seven other teams that had entered the competition and get some key instructions from our old friend Jean Rossouw, the tournament director. Jean had organized a lavish bash, with a delicious brai, live music, and plenty of drinks. All the locals assembled; this was going to be a big deal! Another surprise awaited; the prize was to be entry to the 2020 World Offshore Billfishing Championship in Costa Rica! We were more determined than ever to make a good showing.
 
When we awoke the next morning, we were greeted with a red sunrise and angry seas, with the winds blowing from the NE. It was a rough ride out past Bazaruto Island, but the water became calmer, Poseidon seemingly out of breath.

Trolling for live bait, we’ve got various lures out on our light Nor-Fin Santiago 50’s. Marlin lures are out with Kona’s on Penn International 80’s, the left long line with a birdie to make a splash. Neil is up on the bow with a spinning rod casting into the little Bonita skipping on the surface. We see a nice Cuta jump as the twin Suzuki 175’s purr along at 2000 rpm.

All eyes are on first mate Gildo as he holds the leader in his hand, crouched on the transom leading the docile Bonnie, unaware of the hook in its head, placidly along. We idle gently through the deep blue waters of the Indian Ocean, as the lighthouse and white sands of Bazaruto recede in the distance. We observe hundreds of dolphins frolicking and feeding in the rich waters, watch as a hammerhead shark swims lazily in the distance, and delight to the sight of mating sea turtles.

Hour turns to relentless hour as Gildo stands stoically on the transom, line in hand. Stately, regal, proud, his ebony features chiseled by decades of sea and sun and proud African heritage. His wispy braided beard, curled tightly under sharp prominent chin, give him a sense of ageless gravitas.

Just as the little bonita seems to have run its course, we get a nice hit on one of the lighter rods. I reel in a beautiful 6kg yellowfin on a daisy chain with feathers on 50lb test. Marlin M&M’s!! We quickly replace the tired and done for baitfish and continue trolling.

“Marlin! Marlin!” cries Gildo. We leaped into action as the water lighted up with the big fish’s excitement. Fins illuminating the water with an otherworldly blue hue, the big Marlin moved in on the hapless yellowfin. The plucky tuna was having none of it, however, as it swam excitedly between the big Suzuki engines. Gildo swiftly pulled the baitfish out of the water and tossed him back to the foraging monster that we were intent on bringing to the boat. Three times the desperate tuna evaded the monster, and three times Gildo tossed him back. Suddenly, the brightly glowing marlin charged in and struck the panicked yellow fish with its massive bill. Blood erupted in the frothy water just behind our boat as the efforts of the big hunter turned the sea behind us into a washing machine. Gildo swiftly and skillfully let the leader slip through his fingers as the stunned tuna dropped further behind the boat. The frenzied marlin leaped in from the side, hitting the flapping tuna with the side of his face and firmly grabbing the leader in his gaping mouth. As he shook his massive head, bill shaking left to right spectacularly, the yellowfin spun around the huge bill as though purposely trying to tie his greedy mouth shut. Bill-wrapped! Captain Charles laid on the throttle to tighten the line as the big fish spun and dived. Ziiing! Hundreds of yards of 130lb test came spooling off the big Penn 80 as I tightened the drag. Strapped securely into the chair, I waited for the bruiser to show signs of tiring. After what seemed like ages, the line stopped screaming off the reel, and I leaned back to begin the long laborious process of reeling the monster to the boat. As soon as he felt the pressure increase, the big Marlin was off again. The fight was on! Slowly, I began the long negotiation, tiring him little by little, convincing him gradually that mine was the path of least resistance. Lean back, lean forward and take three or four winds. Over and over, pump and wind, pump and wind. The big angry black gave me a fight to remember, but 45 minutes later, Gildo touched the leader, and we began the process of releasing the worthy beast. The 10-foot marlin was tightly bill-wrapped, with leader and line also having wrapped his broad torso 2 or 3 times as the explosively powerful fish turned and rolled, futilely trying to escape, turning suddenly left, then right, turning unexpectedly to swim directly toward the boat, then reversing course in a massive burst of power and swim straight away – the crafty beast had used every trick in the Black Marlin book, but had only managed to further entangle himself. The circle hook was lodged in his back, just ahead of the dorsal fin, while the yellowtail lay quivering alongside the powerful predator. Two small remoras clung to his side as we cut the big fish free. After a couple of photos, I released my first Black Marlin ever back into the Indian Ocean, 350 pounds of dark, angry predator, to hopefully give another angler on another day the challenge and thrill I had just experienced.
 
We didn’t have long to celebrate, however, as the Catana, sporting a Penn International II with 50lb test erupted with a strong hit. Fish on!! The powerful and experienced Neil Barnard leapt into action. Eschewing the fighting chair, Neil chose to fight the fish standing at the rail of the boat. Whatever it was had quickly spooled out over 150 feet of line and kept going. The seas were still extremely choppy, but Neil kept up the fight, standing solidly and gamely reeling in the powerful fish. Bend and wind, bump and grind, as the minutes marched on, Neil was working hard as we enjoyed the show. I asked if he had any words of wisdom as he worked the mysterious deep-sea creature; he responded in typical Boer fashion, “Thought for the day: Don’t f#ck up.” What was this powerhouse of a fighting machine that Neil was skillfully battling on the light tackle? Was it a marlin? We didn’t know yet, but it was running like a bat out of hell! It was really working him over. If this was a marlin it would be truly insane, as the rod bent almost double, and the muscles in his back and arms bulged with the effort. If he could pull this off, we were sure to be in the forefront of the competition! Captain Charles at the helm was artfully keeping the boat in position as the intrepid Neil brought the elusive and so far invisible fish closer and closer. “Touch the leader!” he cried to Gildo as the double line appeared. Success! Caught and released – the biggest Indian Ocean Sailie in the Southern Hemisphere! What a fight.

Day one was in the books. We headed home to feast on lobster thermidor and mango pudding, compliments of the lovely and talented Seroma, and a relaxing dip in the pool overlooking the darkening and mysterious ocean.
 
The second day started out calmer, with the wind shifted to the East, and we began the day with an incoming tide. The ride out past Bazaruto showed a different sea from the day before, it had a viscous quality, like mercury or molten lead, shifting and changing colors as it played beneath the morning sunlight. Millions of pinpoints of light appeared to come from below then quickly wink out in a flash as they reached the surface. This was destined to be a day of following the bait. We encountered lots of skipjack on the surface.

Sterikis, tern-like birds with slender tan wings, white bodies, and black cap on their heads, hunt as if in packs. They spread out locating the schools of baitfish, then flashing their wings as they hover hunch-backed and head down, tail down and spread, the flashing and fluttering of their wings calling hundreds of fellow Sterikis – “little stars” to join the feast. We quickly follow and join, along with pods of dozens of dolphins. The bait is moving fast, and we are continually on the move. We aren’t the only hunters following the massive bait pools – sinister Zambezi sharks take advantage of each of the helpless tuna and skipjack and bonita that we hook, denying us any live bait to use on this day. We return home at the end of the day frustrated, tired, and hoping that tomorrow will see our fortunes turn.
 
Morning of day 3, I sit with my coffee and rusk, watching dolphins frolic in the golden honey-tea colored sea rolling endlessly toward the white sand shore under the angry red orb of the rising sun. The native fishing craft are alternately rolling softly and bobbing violently at anchor close offshore under the endless, relentless push of the softly rolling waves as I contemplate whether today we will face a black billfish worthy of our journey.

Later, Gildo, line in hand, patiently leads the brightly flashing Skipjack swimming quickly in the lee of our relentlessly idling craft. Fingers in tune with every movement and emotion of the unlucky baitfish, sharp eyes ever alert for the flash of the dangerous hammerhead, crafty Zambezi, or the dark flash of our main quarry – the powerful Black Marlin. This is fishing, primitive, close, patient, cunning, personal.

A 15-foot hammerhead slinks in close to test our resolve, and the bored baitfish comes alive. Suddenly the plucky skipjack is overtaking our little fishing boat. Gildo quickly pulls the lucky little fish aboard as we all shout encouragement and Captain Charles Lee throttles forward, leaving the hapless hammerhead casting about in our wake. After a quarter mile, we resume our patient search for the billfish we hope to encounter. Twenty minutes later, the same hammerhead slithers toward us, flashes of his dark brown-grey body just visible in the rolling, broken blue sea behind us. With shouts of “Oh, Ho!”, we repeat the rescue and begin again, believably only to be harassed by the same persistent shark less than thirty minutes later! This time we leave the greedy, toothsome creature far behind and resume our patient quest for the man in the blue jacket.

Suddenly out of the peaceful droning of the steady Suzuki’s comes a cry of surprise! The sharp eyes of our intrepid adventurer Neil Barnard have spotted a flash of color in the roiling sea just off the starboard rear of our faithful craft. Black Marlin! Finally! We spring to action as the careful fish slides in close and taps the excited and brightly flashing skippy, then drops back. Gildo skillfully lets the line slide through his fingers as he allows the skipjack to fall back as if stunned. The marlin, young and unsure, again flashes in to tap the long-suffering little baitfish with the side of his bill. Gildo gives him more leader, and the glowing marlin takes the bait, swallowing the morsel in one gulp. As we continue to spin out line from the Penn 80, the small marlin, swallowing the circle hook, turns and runs. The reel screams as line plays out before Debbie, seated in the chair, tightens the drag and sets the hook – too late! Tense moments pass as the line goes slack – yes but the inexperienced fish has turned to swim directly at us! When the bait is returned to the boat, it is apparent that it has been pulled right out of the little marlin’s stomach!
 
After a short break, and reorganizing the gear, Captain Charles turned the key to restart the trusty and reliable Suzuki 175’s. The starboard motor lustily roared to life, but the port engine responded with a hum and a clunk. Our experienced and trustworthy captain quickly diagnosed a failed starter – the smoke had been let out of the electrical unit, and she was done for! Even though every spare moment of down time is spent cleaning, maintaining, and constantly fighting to stay one step ahead of the relentlessly corrosive sea water, the unexpected can happen, and did!

The Captain decides to troll baitfish with one motor, taking full advantage of the limited fishing time, while he makes a plan to get both engines running, for making the long journey home on one motor is out of the question! After another hour and a half of fruitlessly trolling the sea in search of our elusive prey, heading steadily toward the south of Bazaruto Island, our wise and careful Captain is ready to put his plan into effect. He will remove the starter from the good engine, use it to start the port side motor, then remove it again while running, reinstall it, and start the second engine!

Our steady and experienced crew jump unerringly to the task as the north wind and waves increasingly threaten to push us onto the deadly rocks lurking below the lighthouse of Bazaruto. The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed; if not for the courage of our fearless crew the Marlin could be lost! Critical small parts were removed and transferred under the howling wind as the tiny craft lurched and bobbed in the sea, outriggers seemingly ready to touch the surface at each roll, as sinister Zambezi sharks patiently circled the craft. The last connection secured not a moment too soon, the imperturbable Captain Charles Lee leaped to the console to start the motor – Success! Quickly removing and replacing the good starter to its original position, we had two running motors to make the long journey to the coast of the mainland of Mozambique.

Throttling up both engines – No! The starboard motor is stumbling at half power! A loose connection quickly determined to be the culprit, we decide to swing around the white sandspit at the south end of the island and secure our repairs protected in the lee of the sandspit.

It was a lovely interlude, as my trusting and adventurous wife and I took the opportunity to explore the pristine narrow spit of clean white sand under a brilliant orange and gold sunset while translucent Ghost Crabs scuttled out of our way. As our confident and reliable engineers worked to secure the connections and then re-apply the process to start both motors, we had the pleasure of approaching a lovely flock of tall, long-legged pink birds with craning necks. Light, coral-pink plumage sitting atop long, thin rose-colored legs, with black feathers displayed under their tails and wings as they flapped and preened. As we walked closer, the Flamingos of Bazaruto Island nervously spread those magnificent wings and took to the air, circling around us and lighting again at the distance they felt proper.

Watching the sun drop toward the horizon, standing in this remote white sand, with persistent blue water turning to angry white froth on one hand, and tranquil turquoise water in the shelter of the sandspit on the other, while observing these magnificently plumed, graceful fowl, surrounded by thousands of smaller shorebirds whirling around as if choreographed, was an experience truly to be seen to be believed. As we stood in happy awe, our trusty rescuers arrived to take us on the fast ride back to Inhassoro and Captain Lee Lodge.
 
The wind changed again overnight, and we woke to a brisk wind from the Southeast. We decided to book the ladies a massage and pedicure at the Ananhara Resort on Bazaruto Island. If the wind abated, we could quickly go and fish ‘the Gap’, if not we could have lunch and drinks at Clube Naval at Ananhara. While rounding the incomparably beautiful and aptly named Paradise Island, sharp-eyed Gildo spotted some native scavengers, heads just visible bobbing in and out of sight in the heaving seas. We narrowly avoided running over a small group of the desperate villagers, who were presenting a clear danger to navigation and themselves by swimming and fishing with nets just outside the preserve of Paradise.

Arriving at the shallow beach outside Ananhara Resort without further incident, we anchored 500 meters offshore in one-meter depth. On the beach in the distance, two horsemen cantered up the pristine windswept beach. As the two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl even louder. The ladies disembarked from the stern of our little cat, and carrying their bags began wading ashore through the surf, picking their way carefully around the many species of sea-star, Blue Crabs, and rough seaweed. As we settled in with a drink to watch them ashore, we hoped they appreciated the salt footbath that was the necessary start to a wonderful and relaxing spa day!

Realizing that the weather conditions would make it too dangerous on the windward side of the island, we waded ashore for drinks and relaxation in the fine resort’s club. No one else was foolish enough to be fishing either, and so we had a grand old time drinking and swapping stories with the other boat captains. Once the ladies rejoined us, we had a spectacular meal. All in all, it was an unexpected surprise to sit in luxury’s lap in the lee of the island while the storm passed over us.
 
The competition was intense, as you would expect of a qualifying tournament into the Offshore World Billfishing Championship. But it wasn’t competing against the seven other teams who had entered the event that ultimately mattered or made the week a success. Rather, our real competition was against ourselves. We faced challenge after difficulty after adversity. We had to battle against Poseidon, heavy winds from three different directions, pressure changes, sharks feasting on our baitfish before we could reel them to the boat, mechanical failure, and a poor bite. We battled ourselves, as mistakes were made that cost us a billfish. But in the end, pluck, perseverance, and the professionalism of Captain Charles Lee and his mate saw us through to win the Deep Bluebill Challenge, annually held at Inhassoro.

The celebration and prize awards held at Rosha Seafood Lapa was a splendid affair, as our event organizer Jean Rossouw, his lovely wife Natasha and three beautiful daughters prepared a sumptuous feast. Songs were sung, stories were told and re-told, dancing, laughter and singing late into the night, until our host finally retreated to bed and we climbed into the old bakkie and joyously returned to Captain Lee Lodge of Inhassoro, for a well-deserved nights rest.
 
Fishing for marlin is tough and being in a wild place like Mozambique makes it even tougher. Everything a man needs must be brought with him or invented on the spot. If you are looking for easy fishing, this isn’t it. You can easily stay at home for easy fishing. I came to Mozambique for the adventure and to test myself under difficult conditions, and adventure we had in spades. I was very pleased to catch my first Black Marlin and be present to witness my first Indian Ocean Sailfish released. I am proud and excited that Team NB Safaris will be representing the Nation of Mozambique in the World Offshore Billfishing Championship in Costa Rica in April of 2020. It was a fitting end to a challenging trip, and as I boarded the SAA Airlink bound for OR Tambo, I was already brimming with excitement for what adventure would await me on the next leg of my journey in Zimbabwe…
 
Great story! I love reading other people's adventures and hang on every word. Sadly my reports amount to we went fishing and caught some fish along with a picture. I'm just not eloquent in relating how things went down.
Less than 7 weeks I'll be in costa rica fishing for 2 days with my kids.
 
Great story! I love reading other people's adventures and hang on every word. Sadly my reports amount to we went fishing and caught some fish along with a picture. I'm just not eloquent in relating how things went down.
Less than 7 weeks I'll be in costa rica fishing for 2 days with my kids.

thanks Wade! Please let us know how it goes. Wishing you and your kids the best fishing!
 
Awesome! Old Man and the Sea stuff! Can we see pictures of some of these fish? Congratulations on going to Costa Rica soon!
Thanks very much!! Really great to hear!

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Fantastic story! What a blast.
 

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