21 minute read
SMORGASBORD
SEYCHELLES SMORGASBORD
WHEN THE FLY FISHING NATION CREW OF STEPHAN DOMBAJ, PAULO HOFFMANN, MARINA GIBSON AND JASPER PÄÄKKÖNEN JOINED DEVAN VAN DER MERWE, KEITH ROSE-INNES AND THE ALPHONSE FISHING CO. TEAM FOR AN EXTENDED TRIP TO COSMOLEDO, ALPHONSE AND FARQUHAR IN THE SEYCHELLES, WE KNEW THEY WERE LITERALLY IN FOR THE MISSION OF THEIR LIVES. WE ALSO KNEW IT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE TO GET ONE OF THEM TO SUM IT ALL UP IN A SINGLE STORY. INSTEAD, WE WENT ALL IN WITH FIVE TOP MOMENTS FROM FIVE ANGLERS WHO HAD THE ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT SALTWATER FLY FISHING BUFFET.
Photos. The Flyfishing Nation
ALEX’S GOODIE
For Paulo Hoffmann, getting to grips with GTs for the first time at Cosmo was a baptism of fire. Fortunately, he was in good hands.
“Paulo, I’ve got a goodie for you.” That’s what Cosmoledo guide Alex Quatre said when the fish we had been waiting for made an appearance. A wellknown figure to most GT anglers, Alex is the guy from the Yeti film Cosmo. I had a cool connection with him from the very beginning because he immediately got me into my first smaller GT at Cosmo. I loved the way he was guiding, from his energy and intuition, to the way he was dialled into the place and also his way of communicating. This Seychelles trip was actually my first time fishing for giant trevally (GT). I have fly fished in the salt a bunch, but never in the Indian Ocean and never for GT so going to Cosmo, the most famous GT destination on the planet. It was very humbling and a little overwhelming at first. The first three days were all from the boat because weather conditions were not ideal - the tides weren’t pushing in quite as fast and, most importantly, we had a lot of clouds so sight fishing in the reef wasn’t really happening. The fourth day was the first day with clear skies and really good visibility so Stephan and I went out with Alex. The plan was to wade the reef. It was an outgoing spring tide, pushing out fast so we anchored the boat and started wading out, patrolling the reef line, looking for GTs. We didn’t see many fish on the outgoing tide so we went back to the boat, had lunch and then saw the water coming back in on the incoming tide. We went out again and, with the tide pushing in quickly now, we started walking to a favourite spot of Alex’s where we could patrol the reef line. All of a sudden, Alex stopped and started scanning the water, waiting for something. It was an interesting change in energy. He knew there were a couple of fish patrolling on this particular tide every time. So, every few weeks he would see the same few fish, coming along the same edges of that exact reef. It was interesting to see him getting a little nervous with anticipation, inspecting the same spots. I stood with him while Stephan fished on. Sight-fishing, we caught a couple of smaller fish but, for the first time, it started to feel like what most people had spoken about before, when describing GT fishing – patrolling the reef, waiting, wading, sight-casting, being one-on-one with the fish. Alex wanted to wait for a while for one or two fish that he predicted would come along the edge of the reef … “like old friends” was his description. That’s when “the goodie” appeared. Alex was pointing in the direction of the fish but, initially, I could not see it because I was not looking far enough. When he told me it was 200-250m out, I saw the fish in the waves, basically just sitting there. Every time the waves came in, the fish would ride them, visible in the surf, swimming in a couple of metres and then dropping back again. We started running with the rods, trying to get there before we lost it. Just as we got close enough to cast, the fish actually started surfing in on the waves pushing over a very shallow ridge. It seemed to know exactly what it was doing, waiting till the water was just high enough to get it over a shallow weed bed and into the lagoon. On the lagoon side, we lost him for a moment because he was now in slightly deeper water. We didn’t want to blind cast and spook him. There was a little white spot of sand where all of a sudden, we saw a fish over it, but that wasn’t the one. Then a bigger fish went over it. That was him.
It was tough because I didn’t want to put out a cast and have the small fish eat it and lose my shot at the big fish, but that was the only shot we had. I just had to hope that the bigger one would eat. I was very, fucking nervous and everything happened so fast. I made two strips, the fish flew out of the water and in the most brutal GT take I have seen so far, it obliterated my fly. The fish flew completely out of the water, its massive bucket mouth engulfing everything. I wasn’t even sure if it was eating my fly because it was so violent. I was in such shock I couldn’t even strike, I just ran backwards trying to keep tension. The fish ate the fly, turned around and tried to get out of the lagoon, but there was this ridge in the way that he had used the waves to get over before. He beached himself on that grass bed, flapping around. It looked like a shark attack. It took him about 15-20 seconds flapping around on that ridge before he could get washed out on the next wave. It was lucky for me because it was a 110cm fish and, because the fish tired itself out on the grass bed, it gave me time to get the tension on my line sorted. By the time the GT got into the deep and ran off, I had my line on the reel and it was safe. For a first time GT experience with the biggest fish by far, it was very helpful. After that the fight was pretty much done and I could just pump the fish in. The whole experience was amazing - seeing the fish from 250m away, in every wave, passing over the ridge, into the lagoon pool, the violent smashing of the fly – I have never seen anything like it. It was humbling. I was done. After that I did not really fish much from the boat again, because this was the only thing I wanted to do. Sightfishing for GTs in the waves is the best thing out there.
SURF & TURF
Marina Gibson’s highlights are divided between those on land and those in the water.
THE FISHING
This was the most insane trip I have ever done in my life so the fishing highlights were numerous. I caught my first GT in the surf at Cosmo and some nice 50cm plus triggers too. The weeks in Cosmo and Farquhar were particularly intense fishing weeks. Alphonse was a little more chilled but it was also amazing and that’s where I caught my first sailfish on the fly. If I have to pick a favourite fishing moment, I’d have to go with the bumphead parrotfish (bumpies) on Farquhar. I had seen these things online before going to the Seychelles and I was super obsessed with them. The bumpies were targeted on the flats. Depending on what tide it was we would always check out the flats first for the bumpies and then just stay on the edges and start fishing for GTs as well. It was great to have the best of both worlds. Most of the bumpies we caught as a group took the orange Alphlexo. I used a 10-weight rod, just because it was lighter, the line was lighter and they are quite spooky fish so stealth mode was very important. Before my trip I was thinking ‘I am going to catch bumpies’, but then once we started fishing for them, I realised that it might not happen. They are actually extremely difficult fish to catch. The one thing our guides were saying was that once you hook one, you have to try and keep them on the shallow flats because when they get into that deeper water they just break you off on coral pretty much straightaway, which happened a couple of times with our group. Fortunately, I caught my incredible bumpie on one of the last days. The fight was nuts, but different to something like a GT. It took me straight to my backing so quickly. Then it was just like battling a really heavy weight. It was mega.
THE BELTING
I had never drunk with South Africans before, so I definitely learnt a few more drinking games while I was out there, one of which was …BELTING. To give you the broad strokes, this is where people, usually quite a few drinks down, challenge each other to bend and take turns hitting each other with a belt.
It’s all a bit of silly fun really but, when you’ve been together for several weeks on an adventure like this, things tend to get silly. In the beginning, when Devan started doing it, I was asked if I wanted to have a go and my response was, “Absolutely not.” Then, when we were on Farquhar, we were getting pissed on one of our last nights. Everyone was giving me a hard time to, “have a go,” so after ummmhing and aahing about it for a bit I said okay. I said to Chucky (Brian Chakanyuka, Alphonse Fishing Co’s media producer), “Do you promise that you will not hit me that hard?” He duly promised to be really nice to me. I had my turn to whack Chucky. Poor guide Cullan Ashby was sitting to the left of where Chucky was waiting. My belt strike was one of those standard, ‘Have you seen a girl throw?’ kind of scenarios. It’s like your golf swing or fly casting - if you put a spike of power into the wrong place, you get a tailing loop or you get a golf ball that goes completely in the wrong direction. I put a spike of power in at completely the wrong time. My swing just followed through and landed up hitting Callan perfectly in the face so it was kind of like two birds with one stone – Chucky’s arse and Callan’s face with one belting. Hopefully I cast better than I can belt! Then it was Chucky’s turn, so he whacked me pretty hard and it hurt a lot. And then Stephan decided that he wanted in, so he thrashed me super hard. Obviously, I had some pretty bad bruises the next day, same as everyone else. The guys were walking like John Wayne.
A HORTICULTURAL INTERLUDE
Stephan Dombaj could tell you about the GTs, the bumpies, the milkfish and the many other species he caught or lost over his weeks in the Seychelles, but instead he chose to focus on something a little different that made this trip extra special.
The organic garden at Alphonse is one of the most amazing details about the entire operation and, just like other operations that work flawlessly and have made it to the upper echelons of destination angling, it’s what goes on behind the curtains that makes it so unique and special. First of all, Alphonse Island is a pile of sand in the middle of the Indian Ocean. In other words, it has very little fertile soil for people to grow anything on. There are a couple of palm trees, a little bit of tropical vegetation and, maybe, mangroves and, really, that’s about it. Most plants are struggling because it’s not a fertile environment. In order to streamline all the little processes to make the lodge as sustainable as possible, the guys are using an apparatus to turn organic waste and paper into compost and rich, fertile, dark brown soil. They use this to grow their own vegetables and fruits and cut the supply-chain short. Otherwise, everything else has to be flown into the island and, obviously, the carbon footprint of every little piece of food that is flown in and gets consumed on the island is higher than whatever they manage to grow there. They do kitchen runs – most (if not all) of the fish served on the island is caught off-shore. They keep away from reef fish because they take much longer to grow. Most of the vegetables on Alphonse Island are grown on the island. They have a gardener, Latif Abdul, that does all this, he’s the master of all the crazy stuff that’s going on and it’s just beautiful to see. You can take a walk and actually witness this which is part of the programme for us. It makes you understand why Alphonse is as expensive as it is. You get to appreciate it on a deeper level when you understand that they are trying their very best to be as sustainable as possible, even if it is a luxury lodge.. That fact that as much as possible is sourced locally, makes you appreciate the food that much more. Papayas, salads, tomatoes and gorgeous, delicious eggplant. We had a tour of the fruit garden and they prepared fresh smoothies for us. It was just the best and it makes sense.
The garden guru of Alphonse, Latif Abdul, and the bounty of his harvest.
PERKS OF THE JOB
On occasion (e.g. during a once-in-a-century pandemic), Alphonse Fishing Co.’s General Manager, Devan van der Merwe, is allowed out of the office to fish. He joined the FFN crew on their week at Farquhar.
Alphonse Fishing Company is known to have some of the best saltwater guides in the world and specialises in operating around extreme logistical destinations. Each location has its own unique challenges and specialty species. This, combined with mind blowing natural beauty, makes it the perfect backdrop for my chosen lifestyle. I have been living, fishing, and guiding in the Seychelles for over 13 years now and have been very fortunate to encounter some life-changing, fly fishing moments around the world. I have ticked off numerous saltwater species, except for the elusive bumphead parrot fish. Nowadays I’m known as the ‘Alphonse Office Jockey’ but, while I rarely have the opportunity to throw a line, I can still get it done when needed.
Having received the remarkable news that we had the green light on the Farquhar trip and that we were able to bring our buddies from Fly Fishing Nation along, I stocked up on all of the orange Alphlexos and anything else that could potentially assist me in my lifelong dream of catching my first “BUMPIE”. Thanks to global travel restrictions, Farquhar had not been fished for several months. We knew that this would be a special trip. Yeti duffels packed, fresh produce sorted and enough Seybrew (Blue Fanta) to drown an entire Alphonse guide team - we were all set. At the last moment, we had a payload issue and I opted to stay behind. After a quick handover of safety gear, sat phones, looping material and all the orange crabs, I saw the team off. Shattered.
After this rollercoaster of highs and lows and dreaming of bumpies the entire night, I was grateful to find that long-time friend and business partner, Keith Rose-Innes, diverted a plane the next day for me to join him and the team on Farquhar. Bumpie time! Next stop Farquhar. First day on the water, I was stunned. I have never seen so many bumpies in my life. They were everywhere! After my first few casts at the first school, I hooked up. With excitement and knees shaking, I went all GT on this guy and broke off. Keith laughed and said, “That’s just the beginning.” Later that week, we poled up to a beautiful island called Depossè. On the shallow white sand, we spotted a herd of these tailing monsters. I couldn’t believe my eyes. This is it, just stay calm, Dev. Keith got me into casting range and I fired the first shot - too short. I calmed myself down and laid up again in front of the school. I went tight on an absolute monster fish. It dragged us into the lagoon and tried to get us in the first two coral heads. Miraculously, we survived that bit. Two hundred yards from us was another coral head. He was heading straight for it. We stayed on top of the beast and pulled as hard as one can with a 9wt and 25lb. He got me in the coral. GAME OVER. But Keith immediately abandoned ship and swam down with the net. A few seconds later, the fish swam out from underneath the coral head, straight between Keith’s legs and he netted it like a salmon, but with more charisma.
A 165cm bumpie in perfect condition and a memory that will last a lifetime. Thank you, Farquhar, you beauty!!
PINKY & THE BRAIN
Actor Jasper Pääkkönen’s highlight on this trip revolved around a lost behemoth of a fish and the relief that he would go home with his digits intact.
For me, this trip was a lifesaver because I had just been shooting a film in Finland from October to February, almost half a year. It turned out to be the most horrendous, most exhausting film production I have ever been involved in. I was a complete wreck by the time I flew to the Seychelles. To be able to spend five weeks there and experience Cosmo and then Farquhar where I enjoyed one of the most incredible week’s fishing I have ever had in my life, anywhere. The timing could not have been better for me or my mental health, to recharge the batteries. The highlight of the trip was a fish that got away. I was with Brad Simpson, the head guide of Cosmoledo, and we were fishing in these deep channels around coral bommies, fishing and fishing, blind casting. During the day, Brad and I had talked about tarpon fishing and, specifically, what it’s like when a tarpon rolls and eats the fly. I’ve fished for tarpon mainly in Cuba, Jardines de la Reina, but also in Key West and Belize so I have experienced these eats. I was casting a big, black, huge profile fly over deep water when out of nowhere this fish ate the fly in a way that resembled a tarpon eat, so much that I went, “What the fuck is that!?” It was this slow-motion roll, like a tarpon eats, almost sideways and, as it happened, it seemed like this silver fish continued and continued forever. The length of the fish seemed so freaking massive that in my mind I could not help thinking, ‘That’s a big fucking tarpon.’ Even though that was impossible, in that split second, that eat was so different to any GT eat I have experienced before and the fish just seemed so massive, that my expletive question referred both to the fact that there are no tarpon in the Seychelles, and, simply, “What the hell is that? What is that fish…really?” Bringing me back to reality, Brad shouted, “It’s a Geet! It’s a massive Geet!” I struck. The line I was using was the Cortland GT/Tuna line which has a lot more stretch than your average GT line. As the fish took off, the line got all these rings and bounds in it, so I had this big ball of fly line flying in at me fast. I almost managed to clear all of it, until the last two metres shot up and wrapped around my hand. I’m right-handed so, naturally, I was holding the rod in my right hand trying to clear the line with my left hand. As the ball of line got tighter and tighter, I was trying to shake it off my hand. Eventually, it was just the last loop that I could not quite shake off, because it was wrapped around my left pinky finger. In the meantime, this massive fish had just taken off and was swimming in the opposite direction. Brad could see what was happening and shouted at me, “Jump!” as loud as he could. Keep in mind that all of this was happening in a few split seconds. With all of that adrenaline your mind goes into overdrive and you process a whole lot more things in a shorter period of time than you usually would. It was probably eight metres deep where we were, so when Brad shouted “Jump”, I looked down and saw the water was way too deep, in my opinion, to jump. I was thinking, ‘If I jump and try to unwrap it from around my pinky finger but fail to pull it off, this fish is going to pull me under and I will die.’ It was such a massive fish that there was nothing I’d be able to do. I had to make a decision - choose to save my life and lose my pinky or lose my life. I naturally chose losing the pinky. I remember looking at it for a split second, going ‘bye bye left hand pinky, it was nice knowing you.’ I even had time to think about coming back to the set I was shooting on with this missing finger. I was already in trouble with the make-up artist because, when I left Finland I was pale from the winter and I knew, when I got back, I would, naturally, be tanned as a person is after spending five weeks in the Seychelles. If I showed up with a tan and without a pinky finger, that would have been a problem. Fortunately for me, the fly line exploded. The Cortland’s core has a breaking strain of 50lb - whereas other GT lines can go to 70lb to 100lb. Had I been using one of those other lines, I would probably have lost the finger, as it would have cut all the way to the bone and then stripped all the meat out leaving me with a bare bone finger like in a Loony Tunes cartoon. What happened was that the line went tight around the pinky right below my first joint and then it cut straight in, through the skin diagonally for about two and half centimeters towards my finger nail, going deeper and deeper, almost to the bone, but not quite. It was a big enough cut for me to be concerned that if it got infected I would have to cut my trip short. Luckily, that did not happen. As digits go, the left hand pinky would have been by far the easiest finger to lose. In my career, I don’t think it’s ever done anything important and I don’t think it ever will. That said I am happier to still have it attached. We were speculating about the size of the fish - as you do - and on the day Brad said it was one of the biggest fish he has ever seen in the atoll. To put it into perspective, a few days later I went out fishing with Brad again and we caught what turned out to be my biggest GT so far, a 116cm fish. When we landed it, I was in the water with the fish in my lap, taking some photos. Luckily I did not have to say it, because Brad said it first.
“Now that we see this fish and we have measured it, I can tell you that the one we lost was 130cm plus plus.” I had never held a GT of 116cm before so while it was huge, at the same time I realised that the one we lost was just a whole different creature in a totally different size category.
