camelbrass
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There’s nothing quite like having almost no time to prepare for a trip. Two weeks before arriving on Astove I was sitting at work wondering whether the time had come to throw myself under a bus when I got the call, my response ‘Yes, of course’ or words to that effect. Anyhow, 2 weeks later I have trusty Guideline trolley bag in one hand and roll top Simms back pack in the other getting weighed (something wrong with the scales!!) to board the IDC flight to Astove via Alphonse.
Sometimes it just all comes together. Two days before we left myself and fishing buddy Nick received a parcel we’d been waiting months for. A couple of Troy Jacques’ finest 10wt T and T Sextant Bamboo saltwater works of art. A decision to leave them home lasted all of 10seconds and they were packed.
Astove involves a one hour hop from Mahe in the Seychelles on to Alphonse and a further one and a half hour leg further south into the middle of the Indian Ocean. The Atoll has an IDC post on it, takes 6 fishermen at a time, comfortable but basic accommodation and maybe the best food I’ve ever had on a fishing trip.
But I digress, we were here to fish. On tackling up, and as keen as mustard, I went for a stroll out onto the nearest flat and my lofty frame together with a neap tide saw me step straight off the flat into the nearest channel. The boys said all they saw of me was a cap and a Simms back pack above water. There may be one or two photos of the event, but for the life of me I can’t find them for the moment. Needless to say, in this school you can get away with nothing so the boys thoughtfully cable tied a face mask and snorkel to my back pack for the next day....and what a day.
Conditions were right for a bit of offshore action and 10wts and 12wts at the ready we headed off, little suspecting the carnage that would ensue over the next two days. It was chaos, but of the best kind. GTs, Dogtooth tuna, Sailfish it just kept coming. We lost count of the fish caught but by the end of day I’d ticked off a large Dogtooth tuna and a PB GT on fly at 116cm from the bucket list. The group’s equipment list was now down three twelve weights, three heavy duty reels in the ICU and 5 fly lines popped. Carnage, and I enjoyed every moment of it!
Day three saw us back on the other side of the drop off (ledges at the end of the flats drop quickly into about 400 meters of the bluest water you’ve ever seen) walking the surf zone on the marl for blue fin trevally, trigger fish, big bonefish and sundry other reef dwellers all the while avoiding the inquisitive lemon sharks. In this environment Bonefish are something you chase between tide changes and they’re comparatively big. Average is maybe 5lb, and you can expect to cast at a couple of single fish pushing 7 or 8lb in a session.
The interior of Astove is a large lagoon which looks and acts more like an estuary than a flat. It’s fed by an entrance to the sea which is amongst the fishiest pieces of water I’ve ever seen in my life and this is where I spent day 4. We waded until the tide changed having great fun with resident bones but once the tide started the race in from the surf its whole complexion changed. First came the turtles, then came the sharks and next came the rays and with them the GTs. The current was pumping and it was like fishing in the middle of a salmon river, in fact I even caught a reasonable GT swinging a fly across the current, showing my best River Spey form. Once the current settled down the bite went quiet so we headed into the lagoon looking for signs of the other Astove favourite, the Indo Pacific Permit. The water in the lagoon is very, very milky and how the guides see anything let alone a fish with big silver flanks is beyond me, but they do. We had or shot or two in any case, but enough to encourage me to have a try the next day.
I had decided that I would exclusively fish the Sextant bamboo inside the lagoon. So next morning, on the nose of the skiff we went looking. Not long into the morning we spotted a small GT tailing and after dropping the fly on its nose it ate, was landed and quickly released. On my next shift on the nose bamboo in hand, the guide, Stu Webb, asked me to put in a 30ft backhand cast upwind. If he’d have told me he’d seen a Permit on a Ray I would have totally stuffed it but, none the wiser, I placed it inch perfect and gave a short strip. I nearly died when a yellow crescent tail appeared behind the fly, I continued stripping and pausing whilst holding my breath and it continued tailing on the fly until a strip about 10ft from the skiff went solid and I struck the fly home. Anybody who’s ever hooked one of these can attest what happens next, it takes off towards me and heads for under the skiff. Very quick reactions and a bit of luck see my first Permit in the net and caught on cane.
Memories are made of trips like this. The boys now reckon Ive attained guru status and keep asking me to pick their lottery numbers for them. I have no idea why.
Trevor
Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk
Sometimes it just all comes together. Two days before we left myself and fishing buddy Nick received a parcel we’d been waiting months for. A couple of Troy Jacques’ finest 10wt T and T Sextant Bamboo saltwater works of art. A decision to leave them home lasted all of 10seconds and they were packed.
Astove involves a one hour hop from Mahe in the Seychelles on to Alphonse and a further one and a half hour leg further south into the middle of the Indian Ocean. The Atoll has an IDC post on it, takes 6 fishermen at a time, comfortable but basic accommodation and maybe the best food I’ve ever had on a fishing trip.
But I digress, we were here to fish. On tackling up, and as keen as mustard, I went for a stroll out onto the nearest flat and my lofty frame together with a neap tide saw me step straight off the flat into the nearest channel. The boys said all they saw of me was a cap and a Simms back pack above water. There may be one or two photos of the event, but for the life of me I can’t find them for the moment. Needless to say, in this school you can get away with nothing so the boys thoughtfully cable tied a face mask and snorkel to my back pack for the next day....and what a day.
Conditions were right for a bit of offshore action and 10wts and 12wts at the ready we headed off, little suspecting the carnage that would ensue over the next two days. It was chaos, but of the best kind. GTs, Dogtooth tuna, Sailfish it just kept coming. We lost count of the fish caught but by the end of day I’d ticked off a large Dogtooth tuna and a PB GT on fly at 116cm from the bucket list. The group’s equipment list was now down three twelve weights, three heavy duty reels in the ICU and 5 fly lines popped. Carnage, and I enjoyed every moment of it!
Day three saw us back on the other side of the drop off (ledges at the end of the flats drop quickly into about 400 meters of the bluest water you’ve ever seen) walking the surf zone on the marl for blue fin trevally, trigger fish, big bonefish and sundry other reef dwellers all the while avoiding the inquisitive lemon sharks. In this environment Bonefish are something you chase between tide changes and they’re comparatively big. Average is maybe 5lb, and you can expect to cast at a couple of single fish pushing 7 or 8lb in a session.
The interior of Astove is a large lagoon which looks and acts more like an estuary than a flat. It’s fed by an entrance to the sea which is amongst the fishiest pieces of water I’ve ever seen in my life and this is where I spent day 4. We waded until the tide changed having great fun with resident bones but once the tide started the race in from the surf its whole complexion changed. First came the turtles, then came the sharks and next came the rays and with them the GTs. The current was pumping and it was like fishing in the middle of a salmon river, in fact I even caught a reasonable GT swinging a fly across the current, showing my best River Spey form. Once the current settled down the bite went quiet so we headed into the lagoon looking for signs of the other Astove favourite, the Indo Pacific Permit. The water in the lagoon is very, very milky and how the guides see anything let alone a fish with big silver flanks is beyond me, but they do. We had or shot or two in any case, but enough to encourage me to have a try the next day.
I had decided that I would exclusively fish the Sextant bamboo inside the lagoon. So next morning, on the nose of the skiff we went looking. Not long into the morning we spotted a small GT tailing and after dropping the fly on its nose it ate, was landed and quickly released. On my next shift on the nose bamboo in hand, the guide, Stu Webb, asked me to put in a 30ft backhand cast upwind. If he’d have told me he’d seen a Permit on a Ray I would have totally stuffed it but, none the wiser, I placed it inch perfect and gave a short strip. I nearly died when a yellow crescent tail appeared behind the fly, I continued stripping and pausing whilst holding my breath and it continued tailing on the fly until a strip about 10ft from the skiff went solid and I struck the fly home. Anybody who’s ever hooked one of these can attest what happens next, it takes off towards me and heads for under the skiff. Very quick reactions and a bit of luck see my first Permit in the net and caught on cane.
Memories are made of trips like this. The boys now reckon Ive attained guru status and keep asking me to pick their lottery numbers for them. I have no idea why.
Trevor
Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk
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