Boys fishing trip

Cape Town, South Africa

After much anticipation and numerous false starts because of the weather we were off! We had arranged to meet our skipper Roger Bossman at the harbour at 6 o’clock, so we’re all up bright and early to make sure we were ready. Having all taken our sea sickness tablets and packed our provisions we set off, met up with Roger and Lawrence, and sailed out of Hout Bay at six on the dot. We were told we were getting coffee and muffins, but these were now promised for when we arrived at our fishing point, two and a half hours and some 35 miles out. I knew from previous experience that the voyage (is a short trip on a boat still described as a voyage?) would be rougher than the trip back, but this was a even more bouncy than I remembered as we sped along, bouncing over the waves and crashing back to earth with a bump. We were all in high spirits for about 30 minutes when Geoff started to look a little pale, then shot outside and was violently ill. Unfortunately this was the state of his whole day – either throwing up, or sitting, somewhat dejectedly on the upper deck, desperately waiting for a sign however tenuous, that we were returning to port. The rest of us managed to keep the jippy tummy at bay until we stopped, but instead of the promised coffee we started to fish straight away. I expected that it would be a bit better when we stopped, but the sea was quite choppy so it didn’t really improve, and I was starting to feel increasingly queasy. Richard was in the same boat (ha ha, no pun intended!). And he duly succumbed. I was in the cabin, trying to put on my fishing belt, looking down, when I felt that I was going to be sick, so shot outside, but managed to watch the horizon, and keep everything intact. I decided I needed an extra tablet, as I’d taken mine at 2.30 a.m. so felt it was in danger of wearing off. The we got a bite – one of the reels started to run out, so Roger called me over, and they strapped me to the rod, and I was fighting the fish! I can’t remember too much about it, other than that it was physically absolutely exhausting. I don’t know how long I was there, but Roger kept shouting instructions – Pull up! Wind in on the downstroke! Don’t let the fish go under the boat! My head was reeling, but eventually all I could think about was the ache in my arms and the weight of this bloody great fish fighting me at the other end of the line. Eventually it came into view, a big, 35kg yellow fin tuna. It was fighting me like mad, Roger had a hold of the back of my belt to make sure I didn’t get pulled overboard, and between us, we managed to get the fish within striking distance of the side of the boat. Roger and Alan, his very experienced assistant, brought it on board with a couple of boat hooks, and then proceeded to kill, and blood it. then it was photo time, with me proudly holding up my fish. The only snag was that I was so exhausted I simply didn’t have the strength to hold it up! The photos bear witness to this. However, I had at last landed my first tuna at the second attempt! For half an hour I just sat and panted – I’ve never felt so tired! I then fell asleep in the cabin, and woke 30 minutes later felling much refreshed, pleased that I was unlikely to have to go through that again! Nothing seemed to have happened whilst I was out, but then all of a sudden we got another bite! It was Phil’s turn, and he seemed to have it landed in just a couple of minutes – I know he’s fit, but was just staring to think that I was I real wuss when I realised that it wasn’t a tuna that he’d landed but a dorada – a real beauty at 7 kg. coincidentally this was the same fish that I’d coauthor the last time I was out. There was then a bit of a lull – Roger broke out the muffins (no coffee mind) and then some hot dog sausages with rolls. Lawrence Richard and I were still feeling a bit queasy but managed to force a bit of food down, and then some beer. PHil on the other hand seemed fine, and was going at the food with great gusto! Geoff managed a drop of water but we couldn’t persuade him to take anything else. We’d been going round steadily in big circles when all of a sudden the sonar went mad – there was a big shoal of tuna feeding right under the boat. We stopped, and reeled out the rods, whilst Richard chummed bits of mackerel under the watchful eye of Alan. We soon got bites on a couple of rods at once, and although we lost one pretty quickly Lawrence was next up and duly landed another 35 kg tuna. He seems to fare beat than me, although was pretty spent once the fish was on board. Almost immediately we got another bite which Richard took. At last I was able to get a feel for how long it took to actually land a big fish – Richard was a good twenty minutes landing what turned out to be the biggest tuna of the day at 50 kg. He too got the ‘Roger’ treatment of continuous instruction as well as a helping hand. He seemed to take it all in his stride, and although it was the biggest fish, seemed quite ready to take another turn! All that time in the gym pays off obviously. Almost immediately we got another 3 hits on the rods, but whilst two didn’t amount to anything one did and Phil got a turn with a tuna. He fought it for a good 15 minutes, and was clearly feeling the strain, sweated brow and fierce determination. However, before we managed to even see the tuna the line went slack – it had managed to escape. All that effort for nothing! Phil was philosophical although clearly disappointed. Things petered out after that, so we cleared up and headed for home. Lawrence say this is a time for the guests to share a couple of beers with the skipper – only he and Phil managed more than one as the rest of us were soon dozing quietly. The sea had noticeably calmed in the afternoon, and was by now like a Lilly pond. even Geoff had returned from his lofty perch to join the rest of us in the cabin. Back at the Harbour the girls were waiting for us to cheer us in! They’d been hanging around for about an hour, so we’re as pleased to see us as we were them. We took one of the tuna and the dorada, had them filleted at the quayside and then back to the house where we barbecued Phil’s dorado accompanied with a delicious salad. Geoff had recovered as soon as we got back on dry land, but was still Alitalia wary so he just had some chicken instead. We were all completely spent by this time, so headed of to bed – a sofa bed has never felt more welcoming!