My latest fishing adventure was to an atoll (small circular island surrounding a lagoon), known as Farquhar – about 450 miles from Mahe in the Seychelles. The Emirates flights from Birmingham to Dubai, then on to Mahe, were trouble-free, comfortable and friendly, and even included a chauffeur service from and back to home. We overnighted at the delightful Eden Bleu Hotel at Mahe, then the next morning boarded a smaller plane for the 90-minute flight to our destination.
The staff at the lodge made us very welcome, and after a lengthy and comprehensive talk by “French Matt”, the head guide, we were ready to go. An afternoon wade around the nearby flat didn’t produce much, but made us feel at home, and ready for the “real” fishing the next day. Our guide for this first outing was “American Matt”, and he started by asking Ryan and me if we could cast and walk. We are both reasonable casters, and I assured him that I regularly walked 4 or 5 miles with Joe – my young black labrador. What I didn’t realise was that the “walk” was in fact an 8-kilometre wade over the surface of the moon, up to the waist in water, and being constantly bashed by surf up to the shoulders, and occasionally higher!
To say I found it hard-going would be an understatement, and I began with no little trepidation to wonder if this was how it would be all week. What made it worse was the fact that, over the first 6K, I never even saw a giant trevally, or “GT”, which was our target fish.
Having nearly fallen over several times onto the sharp coral, I’d had enough, and wearily made my way to the sandy beach about 200 yards away. Ryan is about half my age, and seemed to be keeping up with Matt quite well, albeit falling into the surf three or four times en route! Resting gratefully on a fallen tree trunk, I was surprised but elated to see Ryan cast to and eventually catch a 93cm GT weighing about 40lbs. It was a magnificent fish, and well deserved, and of course it lifted our spirits hugely.
Despite this I was far too knackered to fish on, and steadily wandered along the sand, keeping up with the wading duo. There was no more action for Ryan, and we were both grateful to see the buggy arriving at the end of the runway ready to take us back to the lodge.
On arrival back at camp we were amazed and impressed to hear that David and Penn – our next chalet neighbours – had caught no fewer than six GTs during the day. Knowing that ten anglers had only managed 16 fish between them the previous week, this was a remarkable achievement, and we wondered how the hell they’d managed it! I determined to buck up my ideas and try harder, although I have to say that I was congratulated by others who had struggled along that same route, who seemed impressed I had managed it at all at my time of life!
Our accommodation at Farquhar
A hot shower, lovely meal and lengthy sleep did us the world of good, and at breakfast I felt somewhat recovered from the marathon of day one. On the second day we were out with South African, Eric, and it was very enjoyable. We caught some blue spangled emperor fish and several “bits and pieces” – snappers and coral dwellers. I did manage a smallish GT, but it was by blind casting – not as satisfying as casting to a fish – and it was returned without the customary photo.
The third day our guide was French Matt. I was a little apprehensive, after his safety lecture on our arrival, that he might possibly talk us to sleep, but I needn’t have worried. His pronunciation of “bumpees” (bump-headed parrot fish), for which he had quite an obsession, reminded us of Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau, and resulted in quite a bit of sniggering between Ryan and myself. In reality, he was first class and totally professional in every way – a complete joy to be with for the day. I have to say that he looked after me very well, perhaps having heard of my struggling that first day?
At one stage we had anchored the boat in some relatively calm water, and waded towards a trough in the reef where some serious waves were rolling in. These caused us to brace ourselves to avoid being swept over. Matt was standing at my side, and got suddenly excited when he pointed out two nice GTs heading at speed right towards us. I saw them too, and quickly made a cast, which was a bit short, and as instructed – cast again. This time one of the two came at light speed and ate my fly.
As always happens with these amazing fish, all hell broke loose, as the beast headed back towards the open sea. Matt told me to increase my drag to maximum to try and prevent it getting to the reef! As this was in full swing, three or four large waves swept right over our heads, and it was only my guide grabbing me that prevented a possible disaster!
Meanwhile the fish was doing its best to pull my arm out of its socket, and I feared that my line would surely break. Thankfully it didn’t and I managed to regain a modicum of control. After the usual fierce battle, Matt grabbed my prize by the wrist of its tail – and the job (as they say) was a “goodun”.
We steadily headed back to the boat for the inevitable photos and release, and I was elated at having achieved my goal of a GT from the surf on fly. Brilliant! It had been slightly “hairy”, but if nothing else had happened for the trip, I wouldn’t have complained!
As it turned out, something notable happened shortly after. We had anchored the boat in some calm water on a flat, very close to a steep drop-off. We’d made a start on our superb packed lunch when Ryan noticed two trigger fish, one a particularly fine specimen, swimming up out of the deep water onto the flat. He lost no time in putting a small crab fly, on a 12-foot cast, onto his 8-weight rod.
At the time it seemed a bit optimistic to me, as trigger fish are notoriously tricky to hook, and even more difficult to land. But, somewhat to my surprise, having let the fly sink into the depths, and started a slow retrieve, Ryan announced that something was pecking gently at it, and the next second his rod hooped over. The big one was on!
Matt was out of the boat in a flash. He retrieved the anchor, allowing the boat to drift over the drop-off to the dark blue depths, and amazingly the fish hadn’t found a refuge – and was still on. After a good scrap it was netted by our guide, with considerable delight all-round. We took it back to the flat for the photos, and congratulated each other on a job well done!
On day four our guide was the ever-smiling Jerry, who was also great to be with for the day. The morning was spent wading the flat adjacent to the runway, where the surf was far less fierce than at previous places. Here the ground was also considerably flatter and kinder. Unfortunately my mind was so set on GTs that I only carried my 12-weight outfit. By Sod’s Law, many shoals of bonefish came straight at me, at a calm and steady pace. With the appropriate tackle I would surely have had a few, but I knew it would have been useless throwing a six-inch lure at them. Instead I just enjoyed the walk.
Ryan had quite a few shots at trigger fish and “bones”, but apart from being broken by one of the latter, nothing was caught. After lunch we went in the boat to deeper water, offshore, where the bottom (and fish) were clearly visible in 60-foot depth. For some reason the fish were not giving themselves up, and apart from a grouper of about 10 pounds, which I had, plus a few half-hearted pulls, very little came to the boat.
This was surprising, especially when you consider that they get little or no fishing pressure. Inevitably David and Penn, who were doing the same thing as us, did much better than Ryan and me, and lost a dogtooth tuna to a shark!
I have to say that the accommodation and food at the lodge left little to be desired. After a hot shower and lengthy snooze we were now feeling very much back to normal, even getting used to the searing heat of the day.
Next day, with South African Jarrod, we waded the second half of the “Runway Flats”, which we had enjoyed the previous morning. This time things came right for both Ryan and myself. I cast at, hooked and eventually landed an 86cm bluefin trevally of about 20lbs, and Ryan had an “on and off”. Shortly after that, he hooked and landed his second GT of the trip, casting at them in the surf.
It is impossible to give a meaningful description of the speed and power of these spectacular fish. When hooked I can only say that it is as though you have become attached to a passing train – heart-stoppingly exciting! A GT on fly must be one of the hardest, but most satisfying things to achieve as a fly-fisherman, and we were both congratulated by our guide for a job well done!
The afternoon was spent in the deeper water again, and this time we were far more successful, boating all manner of coral fish, and keeping three smallish ones to feed the “tame” GTs at the dock ( of which more later).
After another eleven hours of deep sleep in the very comfy beds and air-conditioning, we were more than ready for our final day’s fishing. This time we were with the very experienced Peter. He told us, amongst many other things, that he would never get married whilst guiding, as he considered that the two things weren’t compatible. This slightly amused us, as we learned that he had a partner and four children up to 20 years old back at Mahe! We learned many other things from him, however, during our steady morning’s wade, and caught three bluefin trevally between us. One of Ryan’s was a really nice one, and I hooked but lost a decent trigger fish. It turned out that it had bitten my hook in half! They have some fearfully strong teeth…
After a tasty open-air lunch, Peter took us to a special spot. Here cold water was flowing through a channel from the open sea into a lagoon. The change in temperature had attracted numerous bonefish. They were tricky to tempt however, and I believe that our flies were not quite heavy enough to get down to them in the relatively fast flow. Nevertheless, we both hooked and lost one. After that they scattered further into the lagoon.
Not so the blue spangled emperor fish, which were obviously there in larger numbers. They dived on our flies on almost every cast, and did their best to get to the horizon. I hooked something that ripped off all the fly-line plus some 60yards of backing in one searing run before coming off. I’m not sure what that one could have been!
Our final effort for the day (and week) was some “bommy bashing”. This involved drifting over deepish water, with pillars of coral reaching up from the depths to within a metre or so of the surface. We blind-cast all over the place to see what might be interested. As it happened the action was frantic and immediate. All manner of large and small fish flew up from the depths in large numbers, attacking our flies with venom.
We caught plenty and lost many more, sometimes when they simply got off, and otherwise when they reached the sharp coral and cut the leader. The order of the day was to hold on and not give them any line. One had to stop them getting to the coral, but this was easier said than done. Sea fish like these are desperately strong! A second drift over a similar area produced nothing like the original action, but we were pretty worn out by then anyway. It was time to head back to the lodge.
So ended a remarkable week, during which several times I started to realise that I am getting older. Farquhar is not an easy place to go and catch tons of fish, but when it does happen, it is electrifying and very fulfilling! The lodge, facilities, staff and food are second to none, and any keen fly-fisher – preferably young and fit – could hardly do better than pay a visit there.
It is almost worth going there to witness the huge “tame” GTs, which hang about the dock when the boats return, many of which are well over 100lbs. Given a chance, they devour any scraps or filleted fish they are offered, usually in a frenzy of spray. They have actually attacked several people in the past, and we were advised to wade very slowly and carefully, making as little splash as possible to avoid exciting them. Just last year Jarrod had his foot grabbed by one big brute, and was so badly bitten that he had to be air-lifted out by Global Rescue the next day for hospital treatment. They really are awesome beasts – so splash at your peril!
Another trip definitely for the memory bank, I think!
About Mike Green
