India Fishing Expedition Part 4

A young flower seller outside a temple in central Karnataka

After a while it’s always good to have a break from the salt and sand so we turned our attention to some fresh water species. The prospect of a couple of weeks of Mahseer fishing was very inviting and with the anticipation building day by day it was a relief to eventually head off. It was a little difficult to leave the trappings of Goa a couple of days before New Years Eve, but we were sure we could survive! For a few years now I have wanted to travel along the Western Ghats and now the time had come. Aboard our trusty scooters we left Arambol fully loaded, headed inland a little and then continued south towards our destination which lay around 600km away in Karnataka state.

We had no idea what a belching massage is and didn't have the balls to try it out! anyone that wants directions to this establishment email me!

I’ve been down the west coast a few times by train and bus. Both routes mainly stick to the coast, so in theory to follow the mountains would be great change. It didn’t disappoint. It didn’t take long to get through Mapusa and leave the congestion of coastal Goa behind. We were suddenly on quiet roads passing through small villages separated from each other by thick forest. With mainly other motorcycles on the road and no time limit it made for very relaxed riding. After a few hours we joined a piece of highway that would take us up and over the Western Ghats. The traffic was travelling much faster on this much larger road and at one point an oncoming car suddenly appeared from behind a truck and threatened to wipe both of us out. As I swerved to the left the car vanished back to where it had emerged from. It was a close call and reminded us that one hundred percent concentration was needed to deal with so many highly unpredictable motorists. Up on Anmod Ghat the road snaked and curled high into the steep jungle clad hills. All larger vehicles in both directions were forced to slow to a snails pace because of the frequent hairpin bends. All other vehicles seemed to have other ideas and drove the road like a race track, all trying to reach the top first. Most drivers seemed to think nothing of overtaking on blind corners, risking their own lives as well as those of other road users. Had it not been for the slowness of the larger vehicles that they were over taking, they may well have come unstuck. Near the top of the Ghat, a clear stream cascaded down the rock and disappeared under the road. Truck drivers used it as an excuse to let their engines cool while they washed themselves and their trucks with the cold water. To the other side of the road was a magnificent view which we stopped to admire for a few minutes. Although it was a little hazy, a beautiful panorama opens up through the trees and over the jungle and valleys below in the direction of the Goan coast. Thick jungle stretched out in all directions as far as we could see. Rich in wildlife this forest is home to Leopard, Gaur, Sambar, Wild Boar and possibly the odd Tiger amongst a host of other species.

plastic bucket anyone?

Our target for the day was the town of Dandeli which we finally reached as the sun was dropping. The town is the gateway to Dandeli wildlife sanctuary, a large area of mountainous natural forest intersected by fast flowing rivers. For a considerable amount more than we paid for our modest hotel there are numerous lodges situated in the surrounding hills that cater to the tourist. The usual activities can be arranged, such as wildlife watching and crocodile tours but we chose to give them a miss. We checked a few of these lodges in the morning as we explored the surrounding area and I can’t say I was too impressed. For the money a guest would be paying one would easily expect a little less shabbiness and a bit more service! Maybe it’s just me but I would much prefer to stay in my tent if going on an excursion to the jungle!

Sunflowers that brightened up our early morning ride

New Years Eve was to be spent in Dandeli and what a treat it would turn out to be! Our first stop was Santosh’s restaurant which looked like a sure bet judging from the numbers of other customers. The menu also looked good, offering a wide variety of dishes, but it soon became apparent that the problem was going to be communication. I’m not sure if it was the fact that we were foreign, and so distracted the staff, or whether they were just completely inept. We were pretty hungry so a number of dishes were ordered, but when they arrived half seemed to have morphed into something else. I was particularly looking forward to Mutter Paneer which actually turned out to be a Masala Dosa. I enquired about the mix up and was assured that my Masala Dosa was really Mutter Paneer! It clearly wasn’t but from past experience I knew further discussion would only lead to heightened levels of confusion so reluctantly I traded the Dosa with Sam for some of his Panner tikka.

A night time sleeping roost used to keep an eye on the wild boar that might wreck the rice crop in a single night...doesn't look too comfortable to me, but that might be in the design to keep the night watchman awake!

After dinner we went in search of a party as it was New Years Eve after all! We walked about for a bit and asked a few likely looking characters where the action would be happening, but didn’t get any sure fire responses. Luckily earlier we had seen some guys setting some speakers up by a cross roads across town. Grabbing the bikes we headed up that way to find the party in full swing. Five or six guys were maniacally jumping about in the road as incredibly loud Hindi pop music bellowed from a couple of speakers. A very curious looking DJ sat slumped over a small CD player looking decidedly uninterested. It seemed every time he flicked to a new tune, the completely legless dancers would verbally abuse him until something more fitting played from the speakers. One guy, dressed more smartly than the others seemed to be somehow be keeping control of the New Years bash. We weren’t sure if he was a policeman but he seemed to get some respect from the drunkards and managed to keep a slither of order to the party. As I was about to light a cigarette one of the guys sprung across the road and snatched it from my lips before standing in front of me with an inane grin on his face. I was quite impressed by his brassiness, so decided to leave it as he was half my size and it was New Years after all!

Its a messy job preparing the the rice paddies!

Ten Minutes after joining the party it got a bit much so we decided to leave. The prospect of dancing on the roadside with a bunch of completely drunk idiots wasn’t too inviting so instead we went to a bar to drink a beer. As usual for a bar, it was packed, but luckily we managed to get one of the cubicles. Many bars in India have small booths to give the punters some privacy while they drink. It definitely makes you wonder if you should really be there while you sit and quietly sip your Kingfisher beer.

Every so often our curtain would pop back and an incredibly camp waiter would join us in the confined space. His question was, whether we wanted “nuts”, which started to get a little worrying when he came and asked for the fourth time. Other patrons seemed to be inquisitive about us and popped over to have a quick peak behind our curtain. Met by a friendly “Namaste” they scurried back to their seats looking a little embarrassed! After our beer we decided Dandeli had no more to offer in the entertainment area so retired to our hotel and issued the New Year in with a classic film none other than Rambo First Blood!

Coconuts on sale in a temple town

We carried on riding south and passed through the towns of Yellapur, Manchikeri, Sonda and Sirsa before reaching Banavasi. Between the villages and towns we passed through a mix of thick forest and agricultural land. In some areas people prepared the fields for the new rice crop. In other areas whole terraced valleys were being harvested of rice and hay stacks dotted the landscape The road then led us through Sorab, Sagar and on past Avinhalli, where soon after we decided to make camp for the night. As it was nearing dusk, the road was fairly busy, and not wanting to be seen leaving for the forest we waited for a lull in the traffic. When it came we followed a likely looking dirt track that ran down a small valley, through a small stream and off into the jungle. The track looked rarely used so we were pleased to have found a potentially quiet place to camp. But of course it was short lived, for as we tried to find the best way across the stream a small noisy blue tempo came bouncing down the track behind us. The driver was all smiles when I signalled to him that we were looking for somewhere to sleep. He happily pointed across the stream to the steep bumpy incline on the other side that vanished through the trees.

A mammoth water buffalo and his mates on the way to new grazing

When we had found our way across the stream we followed the track, and as it was very rugged made better time than our new friend in his three wheeled vehicle. Deciding to make a break for it we took a small path that wound across deserted fields. Soon finding ourselves in a maze of fields and low dry forest we chose a likely looking spot to bed down. A large pile of wood was collected, which considering we were in a forest was surprisingly hard to find. Local people had collected any dead and fallen wood so we had to work fairly hard to get a good supply for the evening. Not long later, after dark, we heard our tempo driving friend buzzing about in the surrounding forest obviously searching for us. It seemed certain that the fire would give us away but the noise slowly died out as he vanished into the night.

Village entrance framed by two ancient Banyan trees

We slept well, didn’t get eaten by a leopard and woke pretty damp from the night time dew. The cool wet morning was soon warmed up as the sun peeped over the trees and the new day began. Finding our way through the maze of paths and fields we joined the main road and headed towards a big dam that seemed to have a ferry service to the other side. Having asked lots of people whether we could cross the dam we had received a variety of answers. Most were positive but the means to actually cross the water couldn’t be verified until we actually reached the crossing point. From the information we had gathered it might have been a large bridge, possibly a very small bridge or if we were lucky a car ferry. If we were unlucky we would have to double back on ourselves. The map showed the road ending on both sides of the lake, but unfortunately with the map we were using this could have meant anything!

We considered stopping but unfortunately had fish on our minds!

Before we reached the dam we spotted water through the trees and bamboo by the side of the road so we pulled in to have a look. As we sat smoking a cigarette watching the water and wondering whether it contained any fish, a large fish, probably weighting 10kg leaped clear of the water. Impressed at what we had just seen, we scrambled for our rods and soon were casting spinners into the lake. It was a pretty slim chance of catching, as the fish had probably been some sort of carp but it was surely worth a go. I’d like to say that in the next few minutes we managed to land a huge Mahseer but instead we were just tormented by the same fish jumping twice more! We later worked out that the lake we were fishing was a tiny arm of the main lake, which we needed to cross to carry on south.

When we reached the main body of the lake it was pleasing to see a ferry ramp and a queue of people waiting for the boat. Impressed at the sheer size of the lake we also noted that swimming was out of the question thanks to the local crocodile population! With a bit of time to wait we ordered a couple of teas, took in the scene and wondering if any finned leviathans swam the waters of the vast lake. When the ferry did arrive it was also quite impressive, carrying an array of vehicles including buses and trucks. And after quite a commotion to get all the vehicles off the guard managed to cram an amazing number back on for the return journey. Dotted with islands covered with forest surrounded by deep blue water, the lake looked very inviting for a fisher but the question would be where on earth to fish! The sheer area of water meant fish could be very far from any bait thrown into the depths! Maybe next time! We were in for a surprise on the other side of the lake as the road deteriorated badly. We could only trundle along at 25km/h which made for slow going. After a few hundred meters, some guys heading the other way frantically shouted at us whilst pointing back down the road. Sam’s rods had been rattled from the side of the scooter and were lying perilously in the middle of the road. And at that moment a bus was heading directly for them! We prayed and somehow they survived the encounter. Relieved, we rattled onwards down the road. Because the wheels on the scooters are relatively small a bad road causes more problems than if you ride a normal motorbike. Still we weren’t in any rush so the slow pace wasn’t a major problem. Looking at the map it seemed the next town we needed to head towards was Nagar. As the map we used was pretty useless, we would ask directions for the place names that seemed to be in the direction we needed to go. Nagar however, seemed to have vanished into thin air. No matter how many people we asked, all we received was blank stares. We really couldn’t figure out how a town could disappear. We persevered and eventually one man’s face lit up as he realised we actually wanted Nagara and not Nagar. Amazingly no one had realised our mistake before! Happy that we had got to the bottom of things, it wasn’t long before we passed through Nagara and then later in the day reached Tirththalli where we took a room opposite the bus station for 400 rupees. The town was much like many other Indian towns and unless I missed a trick there’s not much to tell. We had a good feed and then on the way back got beckoned into a tailors shop. The tailor who was a lovely friendly man seemed desperate to show us his photo collection. Strangely enough it consisted of weirdly shaped fruit and vegetables he had found throughout his life in the local market. Many had been dressed up to resemble Hindu gods and deities particularly Ganesh the elephant god. Our interest waned after the first three photos of curious looking tomatoes, so by the time we reached the third album, it was beginning to feel like the early stages of torture! Luckily some random snaps of local animals such as flying squirrels occasionally popped up and kept my attention. When the tailor then brought out his photos from years and years of local dramas he had acted in, we knew we were done for. Fifteen minutes later we gave our excuses and made a hasty getaway to our hotel, making sure the door was locked. From Tirththalli we headed to one of the highlights of the motorbike journey. Sringeri is a small town situated in Chikmagalur district in the Western Ghats and thanks to a riverside temple, it is particularly interesting to passing anglers. The Vidyashankara temple on the banks of the Tunga River is quite picturesque but it’s not until you glance into the river that you notice why we were interested in visiting. Thousands upon thousands of Mahseer swim unhurried in the gin clear waters lapping up offerings from the visiting pilgrims who line the riverside ghats. The water is black with fish ranging from a few pounds, up to the biggest that may push the scales up to 20 pounds. Completely protected by the temple, the Mahseer have no fear of humans and will happily suck pieces of bread from your fingers. The competition for food is fierce, so your fingers usually get a tasting as well, but luckily with no true teeth the fish will leave no worse for wear. It was a truly mesmerising sight to see so many of these fine fish milling around in the river. The pilgrims seemed to share our opinions and took delight in throwing popped rice and dried bread into the shallow water. Everytime a handful of goodies landed on the waters surface, fish would erupt with mouths open to hoover up the easy meal. We were surprised to suddenly see all the onlookers gasp and retreat from the waters edge, and we soon saw the reason. A coppery yellow snake had popped out from somewhere and had decided to swim downstream much to everyone’s surprise. Below the crowd it vanished between the big smooth riverside stones and business was soon back to normal. As the heat of day was increasing we were soon back on the bikes heading through tea and coffee plantations in the direction of Chikmagalur. We didn’t stop in the city but carried on through and then later passed the famous temple town of Belur hoping to find a camping spot soon after the town as evening was approaching. The heavy agricultural landscape meant finding a quiet spot might be hard to locate but luckily it wasn’t long until a small plantation of trees emerged a few hundred meters from the road. Pleased with a good looking campsite we started settling down for the evening when Sam pointed behind me at some ominous looking black clouds. With no tents or any cover it was crucial that we made the correct decision. If we got it wrong and it started raining in the middle of the night we would not be happy campers! As a breeze picked up it looked quite possible that a storm might arrive in the next hour, so the plan was to ride another 20km to the city of Hassan. We hadn’t planned to ride at night due to the increased danger but figured we would take it slow and steady. Hassan wasn’t really a delight on the eyes. Potholed roads and heavy traffic welcomed us into the city which we quickly decided we would leave at the first opportunity. Searching out a hotel we discovered we couldn’t park on the main street but would have to go leave the bikes in pay parking around the corner. A young room boy, Shridar came with us to show where we could park the bikes and amazingly before we left and before he had even showed me the room he was asking for his tip which I decided he would have to try a little harder for. Eventually later in the evening when we had eaten and he had knocked on the door, for the fourth time he earned his ten rupees for no real reason. Early morning and we were off as we still hadn’t taken a shine to Hassan. The idea of going to catch a Mahseer was far more exciting than wasting another minute in such a city. And later in the day after a long ride negotiating some terrible roads we finally reached our destination after six days of being on the bikes. The river looked fantastic as ever and as usual an occasional big Mahseer rolled showing off its fantastically angled fins. We had planned to stay in a nearby town for the night but as the accommodation at the river was empty we took the second option despite our severe lack of food. A packet of orange creams had to see us through until the next day but it was worth it as we were immediately out on the water casting lures for Mahseer. Although they weren’t big fish we both managed to land a fish on the first outing which was a good omen for the rest of the trip. To be back fishing in such a special place was really great and the best was we had two weeks to enjoy the surroundings as well as the fishing. Early next morning we headed off to the town around 25km away and loaded up with provisions for the next two weeks. It was quite amazing quite how much we could fit on the two scooters and there was definitely not the smallest spot spare on the way home. We would have to make some return trips for vegetables and other perishables but we had a good supply of food and bait to keep us going for the next days. What we didn’t have was a gas stove which we arranged to pick up after the weekend. It looked like we would be cooking on the open fire until then, which was not a problem apart from it would eat into our fishing time!

We quickly discovered that slightly downstream from where we were staying was a small fig tree covered in juicy red figs overhanging the river. Every time a Parrot, Hornbill or Myna landed in the tree and started pecking at the fruit, the disturbance caused figs to fall into the river below. Waiting under the tree were hungry fish ready to intercept the easy meal. It was natural pre-baiting in action and it seemed to working well as constant swirls and slurps gave the fishes presence away. Climbing up into the tree gave the only chance to put a bait into a place where it was likely to get snaffled and if it did, things would be tight as branches didn’t give much scope for rod movement. A small sharp owner that was light enough for the fig to still float was chosen as a hook. A bright red juicy fig was slid on and an underarm swing was all that was needed to see it plop into the strike zone. The fig hardly had time to hit the water before a small Mahseer inhaled it and began a scrappy fight directly beneath me. With a net ready placed and the aid of Sam we soon had the fish in the net which was then soon followed by another. The third fish was a nice surprise as it turned out to be a lovely Carnatic Carp of almost two kilos. It seemed it wasn’t just the Mahseer enjoying the fruit breakfast! The Carp spelled the end of the action until the shoal got its confidence back after we had pushed off. It was quite amazing to see how switched on the fish were, as any wrong move would put them off immediately. Even a fig hook bait landing with a slightly different splash than normal would make them incredibly suspicious, and usually see them vanish into the depths. Our game plan for the two weeks was to fish bait in a couple of spots and then patrol the rest of the stretch with lures. Both approaches had been kind to us in the past and only time would tell if they would produce. And it wasn’t long until we got lucky on the bait. Just returning from the room where I had been to fetch a live bait rod I heard Sam shouting from our fishing spot. I dropped my rod and ran down the bank to find Sam well and truly attached to a big fish. He had just recast his tennis ball sized ragi bait, which had produced a bite almost immediately. Amazingly it didn’t take long to subdue a beast of a Mahseer and after just a few minutes we could relax as the fish lay quietly in the big landing net. Estimated as a good 40lb+ fish we were over the moon at getting such a good fish early on in the trip.

We quickly fell in a routine and usually woke early after a cool damp night sleeping on the veranda of the cottage. Each morning the river was shrouded with a thick cloak of mist that would slowly melt away as the hot sun broke over the tree tops. It was a truly magical part of the day to sit waiting for the line to pull tight while watching mist flow delicately across the river’s surface. Zephyrs played with the morning mist creating thin vortexes that carried the vapours high into the sky. It was the part of the day when the river was truly alive. Birds were at their busiest, singing their hearts out and gathering as much food as possible before the heat of the day drove them into the cooler forest. Usually a troop of monkeys would pass along the far bank looking for tasty morsels in the over hanging trees; while we were there Flame of the forest flowers would do nicely as a breakfast. A few times we even saw the resident otters although they soon became aware of our presence and melted away to find quieter hunting grounds.

As the rising sun burnt the mist away and the morning chill began to break we watched as a mountain hawk eagle built its nest in a larger wild mango tree on the far bank. As soon as the large raptor had dried its damp feathers it would go off in search of twigs and would often land in the tree above us. Once it was satisfied with the material it had found we would see it gliding gracefully back to its nest tree. Usually after half an hour of watching the show a cheeky forest crow would arrive for some morning eagle taunting. It’s well known that crows have a strong dislike of raptors which this one demonstrated perfectly. The game would start with the crow sitting on a branch close to the eagle’s tree and teasing the large bird with its hoarse call. When the eagle could stand it no longer a short flight would be made to see the cheeky corvid off. Unfortunately for the eagle the crow would nimbly hop to another perch and begin the taunting again. This would continue for around twenty minutes until the crow was sitting almost within reach of the eagle but everyday when I thought the crow was about to get its comeuppance it would fly off up the river letting out calls of joy as it went!

If we decided to fish lures in the morning we would take to the coracle and drift along the river flicking lures under the overhanging trees and into any other likely looking places that might hold fish. The conditions are critical for lure fishing and if they are slightly off the fishing will prove to be very difficult. And of course having a go is usually the best way to determine whether the fish are interested in eating colourful piece of plastic. As the lures had already been successful we thrashed the water to foam and landed some more small Mahseer. It wasn’t until one evening when I decided to take a walk up stream that the first good fish would fall to an artificial bait. As the bait fishing hadn’t produced any bites all day, boredom had set in so I was keen for a walk to stretch my legs and check some spots out.

I decided to take my small spinning rod as I would only cast some lighter lures for fish up to around ten pounds. It was good to cover the bank on foot as it gives the opportunity to study the water and spot fish before they cotton on to your presence, which is very difficult from the coracle. Often in a quiet bay it’s possible to see a shoal of small Mahseer feeding from the surface, as they mill around taking in some of the warmth from the sun. Catching them is another story so it’s usually best to enjoy the sight before quietly moving on to see what’s around the next corner. As the river and bank is a rich habitat for frogs and lizards, large numbers of snakes also call it their home. Engrossed in looking for fish it is easy to miss these riverside inhabitants, so care must be taken when walking in the long grass.

As I reached some shallower water below some rapids I had the feeling that there was going to be some decent fish hanging around, that might be interested in feeding now the light was beginning to fade as evening approached. I was quite wrong to expect that there would be no large fish in the shallows, but that was what I believed, as I had never really had luck in the spot before. Third cast and something big and angry intercepted the lure just as it arrived at the junction of currents. The fish initially moved away slowly but soon realised something was wrong and took off downstream on a 100 yard run leaving me hanging on to the rod for dear life. The line evaporated from my spool extremely quickly until I realised there was the impeding danger of getting spooled.

Without really having the power to stop the fish, as I was only using a light rod I decided not to try and lock the reel, but see if I could follow downstream. Jumping across the rocks I ran down the bank and managed to pass the rod over a large bush growing by the side of the river. I was starting to realise I would be extremely lucky if I landed the fish on the end of the my line. At this point the line became caught on a rock mid river giving the appearance that the fish was relatively close by. Suddenly the line pinged free I could immediately see how far away the fish was. My luck continued as the Masheer stopped and changed direction and started heading to the bank on which I was standing. Now at least I could turn the big fish and possibly start to make up some lost line. It was touch and go, plus I had reached the limit of following the bank downstream as a big bamboo thicket blocked any further progress. Luckily my little oceanmaster spinning rod has a bit of power packed away down low which came into play as I steered the fish up stream.

I couldn’t believe that it was still on the line after the previous few minutes of mayhem but as it was, it might just get landed. I prayed luck would be on my side as I gently tried to bring the fish towards my bank, knowing all along the hooks weren’t the best in the world. Every time a convenient rock presented itself the Mahseer would dive to sanctuary and without a height advantage to guide the fish out, a game of cat and mouse emerged; patience was the name of the game and slowly the big fish came closer. I soon realised that to get this surprise fish onto the bank I would have to climb into the river to land it. I’d already waded to follow the fish downstream, but this time I might have to go into chest deep water, which meant stripping to my undies, which was easier said than done. Trying to undo Velcro sandals with one hand, while trying to play a big Mahseer with the other arm is not all that easy. Expecting this moment to be my undoing I was happy to get my shorts off, which had my camera attached to the belt meaning I could safely climb into the water.

I stood waist deep in the water and had only one more submerged rock to negotiate before the prize was mine. As the Mahseer rolled over I made a grab for its big mouth and managed to get a grip on its rubbery lips enabling me to pull it towards the bank. Once safely on dry land I unhooked the fantastic looking stocky fish before snapping off a quick photo. With out scales I guessed it was 35lb + but whatever, it was an amazing fish that had just given me one of the best fights I had experienced. I’ll definitely not forget the noise the reel made on the fishes initial run. It reached a pitch I hadn’t heard before which made me think something distinctly untoward was about to happen. However for once luck was well and truly on my side, which along with some careful playing let me land one of my most memorable fish. Buzzing for the rest of the evening I fell asleep replaying that amazing fight in my mind.

Over the next few days we had a couple of disasters, losing a couple of very decent fish. Sam hooked a biggy on a lure from the bank but got well and truly smoked. The bait fishing was slow and the couple of bites we did have were either missed or led to the fish heading straight for the snags and shedding the hook. A bit of luck did present itself after we had spent most of the day having lunch with a friend. As we had been invited to arrive at his place at 9am, we’d skipped breakfast thinking we wouldn’t have to wait too long for a feed. We imagined that we could be back at the river fishing by eleven at the latest! We were very wrong! What we didn’t realise was, we first had to ride 30km to buy ingredients for the lunch. And then after having a load of brandy thrust upon us we eventually ate we ate a delicious pork curry at one o’clock!

Relieved to finally get back to the river at two o’clock, we immediately grabbed our rods and headed out in the coracle to flick lures. Half drunk, it was a great afternoons fishing, which suddenly got even better when I latched into a good fish. With Sam paddling us away from snags and rock bars we followed the fish about the river trying desperately to gain some line. After a damn good fight we slipped the net under a beautiful fish of around 40lb. Pulling up on a small island, Sam clicked off some great photos before we released the fantastic beast back into the river.

The next night we decided to sit it out with bait and see if the fish would feed after dark. Not having had success a night before we fancied giving it more of a go to see what might happen. With the night becoming a little cold we sat wrapped in blankets, holding our rods waiting for an almighty Mahseer bite. It was exciting stuff as sitting in the dark let us concentrate fully on what was happening to our baits. Every small knock on the line was immediately felt which had our muscles tensing ready for a possible savage bite.

After a few hours nothing had happened apart from leopard had started to grunt from somewhere down the bank. We were both beginning to feel the cold and were starting to doze off as it must have been nearing midnight. Apart from the leopard and the croaking frogs the river seemed to be sleeping. That’s what I was starting to think until Sam suddenly burst into life. Once second complete stillness, the next complete mayhem! Line flew off the reel as Sam tried to gain some sort of control without slipping into the river. The plan was to jump into the coracle and get after the fish before it found its way to some submerged snag. It was too late though as after just a few seconds the fish found a rocky snag which the 40lb mono couldn’t withstand. The adrenaline had surged in those few moments leaving us quivering on the bank wondering how it could have ended so fast. Calling it a night we skulked back to the cottage hoping the fun was over and that we wouldn’t meet old spotty on our walk home.

The same spot saw us lose a fish a few days later…again a big fish. Concentration had begun to wane after sitting for a good few hours. Nothing had happened apart from the usual small fish knocking at the bait. I sat with my rod leaning on a forked stick with the butt just a few inches from my hand and found myself wondering whether I would be quick enough to grab the rod should I be lucky enough to get a bite. After much careful visualisation I came to the conclusion that there was no way on earth a fish could pull the rod into the river before I could grab it.

I must have been concentrating far too hard as suddenly my fishing rod became animated and flew towards the river. For a split second I felt paralysed and could only watch as the rod landed a couple of feet below me in the waters edge. Like a cat I sprung forwards and dived head first into the river to retrieve my rod. Back on land after a few seconds of flaying around in the mud I jumped into the coracle to try and get after the fish before it was too late. Sam was still trying to work out what had just happened, but before he could follow me into the boat the line went limp and it was all over. It seemed these sneaky Mahseer all knew about a sharp rock beneath the waters surface that they used to cut unsuspecting anglers lines.. It all happened so fast that Sam had missed the show and asked whether I had slipped and fallen in to the river! While I climbed back into the river to retrieve my flip flops that were stuck under the water in the mud I explained what had happened. It was all quite amusing and luckily for me it wasn’t on film! After we got it together and stopped laughing we came to the conclusion that a break was in order as it seemed fish depression was on the verge of setting in!

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Indian Fishing Expedition 2010/11 Part 3

The Great Royal Circus comes to Sawantwadi

After a week and a half of exploring the coast the feeling to return to Goa was getting stronger. The idea of being thrust back amongst so many tourists wasn’t inviting but the lure of steak and beer was starting to take over our thoughts. We packed our things back on to the bikes and left the beautiful beach with hopes to come back another time. Heading back to Goa we had a plan to find a beautiful spot where a small river reached the sea. We had camped here when kayaking and made friends with a family so thought it would be nice to return and see if they remembered me.

Throwing the cast net at sunset for mullet, Konkan coast

The first few hours was a straight ride returning the way we had come. Lunch stop was in Ratnagiri where we found a restaurant I had been to a few years before. It was a fairly cheap establishment but served good food, which suited us fine. Sitting inside under the cooling air of the fan we drank cold mango juice in an attempt to get rehydrated. . Half the customers turned and stared as we entered the restaurant while a couple couldn’t tear their eyes away from us until we left half an hour later. The food was good and stepping out side to smoke a cigarette we were accosted by a local drunk, who was determined to make conversation. He seemed to think it would be a good idea if we came back to his place to smoke hashish for the afternoon. We politely declined and turned to get accosted by a cool looking young guy who couldn’t have been more than16. He only wanted one of my cigarettes which of course was not a problem. The exchange did however come with a condition and that was, I kept it secret that he was smoking! Luckily I only knew two people in town, the local hash smoker and him himself, so I don’t think he had too much to worry about.

Surveying the azure waters of the Maharashtra coastline

Vultures that have just fed on a dead cow scarper as they see us approaching!

Back on the bikes we continued to head south for another hour or two. We had a print out of Google earth which we hoped would help find our destination. As we left the main road the image became less and it was difficult to see if there where the tiny roads headed. By some fluke of nature we took all the right turnings and after 10km ended up reaching my friend’s house. His mother looked a little confused when she saw us but called Chandrakant, the man of the house. As he saw us he remembered me from a few years before and a big smile swept across his face. When we had visited in the kayaks we had been the fist westerners in the tiny village so it was a bit of as novelty for them. Soon Amol the enthusiastic son arrived from the beach and was overjoyed that I had returned. I introduced Sam before going for a walk to the beach to look for a camping spot.

Standing with Amul on his private beach, who for some reason looks a little scared!

The Mother seemed very worried about out presence and it was suggested that we would need to register with the police if we planned on staying the night. Since the terrorist attacks a few years before in Mumbai, it seemed everyone was a little on edge. As we were tired we promised to go in the morning on our way back to the village. Amol came with us to the beach and was his usual enthusiastic self. He told us how he was now a coastal guard and was protecting his beach from terrorist landings. It all seemed a little far fetched but we nodded and agreed. He also seemed determined that we should wade across the river and camp on the far side like we had done before. It took a while to persuade him that the best camping spot was just around the corner and eventually we headed there, dropped our luggage before going for a swim and a walk.

Sunset on Amul's beach. I think he was giving the latest detail about his coastal patrol duties!

Then after a surreal hour of watching euro news on his old TV set we rode back up to town 15km away to find some dinner. It was to be the ubiquitous Vada Pav along with a few Samosas and Chai as we couldn’t find anything more substantial. The restaurant was small and dirty but filled with locals and the food tasted good. The people were friendly and although we must have been a very unusual sight in the dusty little crossroad village they welcomed us warmly. Every few minutes a mangy white cat would emerge from a hole in the restaurant floor only to then change its mind and disappear again. After filling up we bought some supplies for the night and then went in search of some old monk rum. Finding the local drinking establishment we walked inside and bought two quarters much to the amazement of the inebriated clients. The proprietor seemed highly confused as to where a couple of white boys had just popped up from and so tried to hurry the transaction along.

Sam on aroad through a beautiful casurina forest, Maharashtra

Back at the beach we arranged our sleeping bags on the warm white sand under the Pandanas bushes, mixed the rum with some Pepsi and lay back and stared at a million stars. It was another beautiful night on the Konkan coast. The tide pushing up but it would only be around reach high by 1am so we set an alarm and got some sleep. The conditions looked perfect for some fishy action but after a few hours of night time lure throwing rewarded us with nothing.

Repairing nets in a small village on the coast

We woke early in the morning and although coated in fine white sand it was another gloriously clear day. With the sun rising over the hill behind us it would be a little while until its warming rays reached our spot. Amol arrived a little while later, and as we gradually woke up he exercised on the beach. I wasn’t sure why he had to grunt and make so much noise but guessed it was a by product of watching too much sky TV. After some Chai we climbed back on the bikes, said goodbye to our kind hosts and once again headed south.

Mackeral and Kingfish boats, Tarkali

We didn’t make it too far down the main road before an excited looking policeman leaped in front of us. Thinking it was probably best to stop; we pulled into the rough parking area and ventured inside the police station. I quickly figured Amol must have called and notified them that we were on the way. I guess they hadn’t come across too many foreigners before as the whole thing seemed pretty novel to everyone in the station including those who didn’t plan on being there that day. After filling in a “C” form and explaining the foreign tourist rules regarding registration to the boss we were set free to get back on the road once again. Sam seemed to think we might be going to jail so was pretty relieved when we sped off down the road.

My first Mangrove Jack on the fly!

On the way back we stopped to meet Stefan in Vengurla who was fishing for the evening. Tides looked good for after dark so it seemed a shame to miss the opportunity. As the light went we started cast a little way up from Stefan who was fishing with his friend, Artu. I had a really good feeling and it wasn’t too long before a big fish nailed my rubber shad. It fought hard and began jumping from the water and then suddenly the line went slack. When I inspected the lure I noticed that the single top hook was bent. Stupidly I hadn’t removed it like I usually do and so had lost a good Barra of around 7-8kg.

The second Barramundi of the evening that wasn't as lucky as the first.

Luckily not long passed before another hit the same lure when cast in the same area. At first it took line quickly before kiting to my left where I knew there was a chance it might cut the line on the rocks. After a second I felt the horrible grating sensation as the line rubbed on a submerged oyster encrusted rock. I knew I had to quickly change my position if I wanted a chance to land the fish, so ran to my left. As I tried to jump up onto the next rock I slipped on the smooth granite, landed heavily on my back and narrowly missed going for a swim. As I recovered and climbed up to my new position Sam arrived to help land the fish. The line was still hung up but after some gentle persuasion a lively Barra of around 5kg came to the rock ready to be gaffed. Nothing happened for the next hour so we decided to head back and try to catch the last ferry into Goa, in time to find some food back in Arambol.

Sunset over the Arabian Sea, West coast India

We spent the next week or two fishing hard on the coast around north Goa and south Maharashtra. We tried to hit the good spots every evening as the light faded. As the light drops out of the water predators come out to hunt and a carefully placed lured can often be pounced upon. The anticipation rises as that magical time arrives when the sun is burning red and sits just a few degrees from the horizon. If nothing has happened already, now is the time to prepare your self as those bigger specimens arrive to tear through shoals of defenceless baitfish.

A decent Barramundi caught from the beach on a lure

A trip up to one of my favourite spots was in order that being Querim estuary. Little had happened here in the weeks previously. Stefan had caught a few decent Barramundi and I understood that a few other guys had been lucky too. Thanks to the sands shifting during the monsoon the usual deeps had moved further from the beach, so it seemed fish were a little harder to intercept. However, many people were talking as though the estuary had died a sad death, “there’s nothing left” they said! Sure, vast amounts of Barra have been removed in the previous years but there are a good few left. I suspected, as usual, it’s easy to speak badly of a spot if you haven’t got the knowledge to catch an occasional fish. I wonder how many times a fisherman has left from a session downhearted and declared it’s a poor spot. The fish were there but he chose the wrong technique which resulted in a blank. Then, along comes the next guy who chooses the right lure and has a red letter day.

Markus holding two Barramundi that couldn't resist hitting our lures

Having put in a vast amount of hours on the estuary I knew exactly what was going on and how an tiny difference in techniques could make all the difference to who catches and who doesn’t. Arriving at the estuary we found Stefan fishing, along with Winston who I hadn’t met before but had chatted to on a forum. Stefan had been fishing for a few hours and had nothing to report, not even a bite or two. I felt highly confident of catching a fish, which I think is one of the most important ingredients to consider when hitting the water. A lack of confidence will more than often result in a fishless evening. It all paid off, as within the first five minutes a cracking bite resulted in a beautiful small Barramundi which I quickly slipped back into the white water. Stefan was surprised to say the least, but has seen it all before so wasn’t too phased. Only a few minutes passed before another much bigger fish made an all out attempt to pull my rod from my hands. A great fight ensued over the next few minutes until I managed to pull the fish close enough to land with the help of Markus and a wave. Around six kilos it was destined to become our next meal.

Fisherman on the beach, Tarkali

Everyone was immediately on the hunt for a similar lure to the one I was using, as it seemed to be making all the difference. Again within a couple of minutes my lure was savaged by a much bigger fish. I quickly loosened the drag to give line as the small hooks I was using would definitely give way under any substantial pressure. It wasn’t however going to be the hooks that let me down but rather the split ring that was ripped from its mounting. To my left I heard Markus shout that he was on and in double quick time he had a beautiful slab of silver on the beach weighing in at around 9kg. Stefan was next to get a fish on, but unfortunately it was short lived as the hook slipped. Unfortunately during this short spell of feeding Sam was plagued with wind knots so didn’t manage to get in on the action. Five Barramundi on the lines in around fifteen minutes in a “dead” river, not bad really! And all because we managed to present them with exactly the right meal!

The local cow tamer wanders the villages playing his trumpet in exchange for rupees

Sam was to have a session to remember a few nights later as we headed for a rock mark which looked like it had good potential. It was a long walk of around two kilometres to reach the place we wanted to fish and half of this was over the rocks. Not just any rocks, gnarly, jagged and sharp they threatened to severely damage anyone who took a wrong step. A local throw netter told us another fisherman had been coming almost daily which gave us hope of their being some fish about. With a view of dolphins out at sea, a sea eagle above and a long deserted beach in the distance it was a spot well worth fishing. Small fish swim in clear rock pools while behind us the land climbs steeply giving way to a band of long dry grass before thick forest cloaks the top of the hill.

Deserted beach, Maharashtra

With the water looking good and plenty of fishy looking spots to throw lures at, we started fishing around five o’clock. Almost immediately what looked like a small Palu grabbed my rubber lure just as it was about to leave the water. Definitely having bitten off more than he could chew the inevitable happened and he fell back into the water. The real action only started after the sun had set. Sam’s first bite was very close to the rocks and turned out to be a good fish of around 7-8kg. It put up a good fish but the sturdy tackle managed to subdue it after a few minutes. We called Ashok over but he seemed determined to fish in another spot. Not long later, Sam got lost two fish in the space of a few minutes thanks to the hooks pulling. Ashok was the next to get lucky and pulled in a Barra of 5 kilos.

Local fisherman, Konkan coast

By this time a couple of guys had arrived and were fishing a little way down the rocks from us. They must have seen the commotion ain the light of the half moon and known that the fish were on the bite. Sam was next to get a hit which he quickly struck into. It was another great fish which decided to give us an acrobatic display illuminated by the silver moonlight. The hook luckily held as it repeatedly jumped from the water. Eventually Sam expertly managed to guide the fish into a quiet bit of water where we could make a grab for it.

Sam with a big Barra caught from the rocks on a lure

It was decided that this one should be released so after a quick snap Sam chucked it back into the sea. Unfortunately as it hadn’t been revived properly it turned belly up and began to float away. After a second, it was out of reach and in a few more seconds it would be out of sight. It would be a crime to waste such a fish and there was only one thing for it. Stripping down to my boxer shorts I jumped into the black swirling water and swam after the Barramundi. With my fingers securely clamping onto its jaw, it was time to figure out how to get back onto dry land. Luckily there was not much of a swell which made life a little easier. Still a slip would mean some bad lacerations from the barnacles and oysters. Getting into position I waited for the right moment when some water would push me upwards. When it came I was back up on the rocks ready for more fishing, a little cold but none the worse for wear.

Sam and Ashok hold three Barramundi that took a liking to our lures, the biggest was destined to go back but it wasn't to be!

I was the next to get a fish on but as quickly as had come it was off and long gone. We ended up with eight Barramundi hooked and three landed. The guys fishing next to us didn’t seem to have had a touch all evening. I’m sure they must have been wondering what the hell we had been up to with all the shouting and swimming going on. We decided to call it a night and started on the long long trek back to the bikes. This is when the evening started to get more interesting as we had to negotiate the treacherous way with over 20kgs of fish. Luckily we had a bag so I offered to carry the catch while Sam and Ashok carried my tackle.

Mackeral drying in the sun, Konkan Coast

Walking the rocks in the day was hard enough, but in the dark, carrying over 20kg of spiky fish and wearing flip flops is another matter. Luckily the batteries in my head torch weren’t completely flat so I could just about see where I was going. Still every step was perilous and could have resulted in some serious pain had I gone down. The walk seemed to go on forever and by the time we eventually made it back to the beach the sweat was pouring from my skin in torrents. Another short stretch and we would be back at the bikes. And what a relief it was to get back and drop that bag into the foot well.

Morning after a night session on the beach

The fun carried on though as we rode through the village. Expecting everyone to be sleeping we were surprised to see a bunch of guys hanging out in the road. Ashok was desperate for them not to see our catch so we tried not to stop as they enquired to whether we had caught anything. A moment before the fish had started to slip and were now tottering on the edge of the foot well about to fall into the road. Should they fall our cover would have been blown, but somehow with Ashok’s foot supporting the unstable bag we managed to creep by the villagers without incident. Around the corner we readjusted our load while we laughed at what a close shave it had been and then sped off up the road. (For those of you wondering fishermen in India are extremely secretive about their spots and catches!). We waited up the road for Sam who seemed to have disappeared. We were wondering if the guys we had seen were beating the truth out of him, when a small light appeared back down the road. Sure enough it was him but riding only with the light of his head torch. We thought he was still employing stealth tactics but it turned out his headlight had decided to give up the ghost. It was a long way back home with no headlight so luckily as Ashok can see in the dark he offered to ride Sam’s bike the rest of the way. Following closely behind me we eventually managed to get home without any further hitches! It had turned out to be a thoroughly enjoyable and eventful evening.

The cow tamers mate blowing his trumpet much to the delight of the village kids

Our fishing guru Ashok suggested that we make a short trip a little way into Maharashtra where we could stay with some of his friends. He assured us the fishing would be worthwhile and time and time again we heard the story of fast biting Mangrove Jacks. Previously he had told the family, who by the way, are respected fishers that he would undoubtedly bring them some Barramundi from his evening session. Unfortunately the Barra hadn’t been on the bite so he couldn’t keep his promise. So Ashok wouldn’t lose face we decided to have a go and see if we could do any better. The plan was to return to our hosts with at least one of these sort after fish. Rarely caught in the nets good sized Barra are unusual to see in the market and because of this will be highly appreciated when presented as a gift.

Sam and Ashok with the world's weirdest looking Trevally

On the Estuary a fisherman will find it hard to predict whether the Barra will bite even if the conditions look perfect. Many times it will look great but unfortunately the fish have decided to dine out elsewhere for the evening. When Sam, Ashok and I reached the river mouth the tide was pushing in nicely and without too much imagination we could picture larger fish following the hoards of mullet and other baitfish up stream. The question was would the fish be there this eveveing? Ashok was first to cast his lure into the rising water. A couple of turns in and he asked if I could change his handle to the other side of the reel. As I had half unscrewed the handle I felt a knock and then a pull on the rod! I struck and surprisingly was into a good fish which turned out to be a beautiful Barra of around 3kg. Because of this super lucky first cast we could now relax as we had a gift for our hosts .

Sam and a decent estuary Barra

I quickly changed the handle for Ashok, grabbed my rod and cast my lure as far out as I could into the swirling water of the river mouth. It only took a few turns of the reel before another Barra homed in on the lure and smash into it hard. It was quickly on the beach along with its mate after putting up a spirited fight. My lure flew back to the same spot and as I slowly retried it once again it was nailed hard.. This time the culprit was a small MJ . It seemed that we had arrived exactly at the right time and sure enough next cast another Barra hit my lure, but quickly jumped and shook the hooks free. Sam got the fourth Barra which he slipped back to its watery home after a quick mug shot. Ashok didn’t look happy to see the fish go back, as after all it was his pride at stake, so we decided to keep the next one. The fifth Barra decided to choose Sam’s lure and came only a few casts later. I got one more while Ashok went for a few casts up the beach only to return a few minutes later with a tiny Trevally which, amazingly we persuaded him to release. Hopefully the first of many!

The camera never seemed to stop attracting the resident kids!

With Four good Barra and a Mangrove jack we decided to call it a night for a couple of reasons. Firstly I didn’t want to see any more fish removed when we already had enough and secondly Ashok was getting twitchy. Being away from his home patch he seemed vey concerned that no one saw what we had caught. As we fished, a guy had been gliding across the still lagoon in a dugout to illegally collect sand from the spit. As Sam carried his last fish up the beach the sand miner had come to see what was going on. This was too much for Ashok who announced we must leave at once. For us it’s hard to understand Ashok’s concern, but as I have seen it all before, I explained to Sam that it’s something just to except and not to question. Ashok obviously has his reasons and being guests we should honour them. Back at the bikes tensions rose as some local guys who were sitting by their boat questioned our purpose. Ashok asked us to hide the fish as what sounded to me like a heated discussion went on. After a few minutes the guys drifted off and we went on our way. It seemed by mentioning our respected hosts the fishermen had decided that we were ok. It probably also helped that Ashok told them that we had caught nothing.

A lively little Trevally that hit a trolled lure

Worn out from fighting the little trevally....Baba drives the boat

Wide smiles spread across our host’s faces when we reached home. They couldn’t believe what we had caught from the shore in such a short space of time. The old mother seemed to be the happiest of them all as we presented the fish in the darkness out side the house. We got the feeling that we would always be welcome which is great as we were staying in one of the most relaxing places I have had the good fortune to visit. It was such a pleasure staying with such warm friendly people that I hoped I could return time and time again.

Ashok washing our catch

The next day the men of the house, Babu and Govind, took us out in their boat to troll along the coast. It was all familiar territory to me from when I kayaked past the area a couple of years before. It was however nice to sit back and not have to paddle, but I vowed on the next trip to bring my kayak to this fantastic area. Just being in the boat was enough, but we also managed to land three small Trevally, as well as a lovely 2.5kg speckled snapper for Sam. Although they were only small fish they fought incredibly wel,l but being on the boat didn’t do them justice. It looked like there were some great land based fishing spots in the area, so we planned on coming back to battle the fish from terra firma at a future date.

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