Tofo on a Kayak: the netters
The launch is easier this time, our double kayak being a lighter model this year, and after a few foamies and a quick sprint paddle, the lines were set. We head for the Mozambique Current. Its Tofo on a a kayak time again.
The Mydo Luck Shots were swimming lekker and as The Frenzy paddled, I threw a spoon to the horizon and back with my new 20lb braid spinning outfit.
The Frenzy spotted a buoy and let me know. “Mergulha!”, she shouted. Quickly we manoeuvre to the port side, side swell, and make some distance. The locals here swim out on their own, Pat Mallone and Bobby Naidoo style, its a common interaction usually punctuated with greetings and a chat, out in the middle of the ocean. But no diver popped up and soon I had that sickening feeling you get when you drive over a net. Submerged. Inhassoro all over again.
Both our sticks went away. Shit. Dammit. Get The Frenzies brand new 30lb spinning stick and snap the leader whilst trying to get down the two metres and pull. I get to my favourite rod, a 3piece 10ft with a 30SH thereon. As I manoeuvre trying to stay steady and pull up a huge gill net, the line goes tight and snap, the tip of my most versatile stick snaps. Another sickening feeling.
Shit. Dammit. Etc…
So, new rigs and back on towards the Mozambique Current. The terns are turning, my favourite sound. The locals anchored are getting a few fish. We catch the current and after a hundred casts with my 20 pounder, decide to head back, at trolling speed, when we reached Tofinho. What a cool paddle along the backline, looking out for the huge bonefish that were sighted here lately. Around the jutting point out the back of Tofo Beach. Through the neap tide current which is a lot more fun and safe than the spring tide torrent. Catching a few waves we got got back into the Bay and joined our old friends – the karapauw netters.
They had their net out also, completely surrounding a little reef – about the size of a tennis court. This net does not stay the night working though. This family has been doing this here for aeons now. Their agitated chatter escalates as they try trap every little fish they can. About a inch square, the holes in the fill net let very few fish through. Soon the old man of the sea – the captain of the operation, head of the family, throws an anchor and they start to close the net. Arm’s length at a time. It’s grueling. It’s hot. Very hot.
Eventually they haul in the last part off the net and spill it’s contents into the small wooden boat. Maybe 2kgs. And nothing bigger than a pinkie. They move toba new reef and try again. They are mainly after karapauw, a bait fish sized pelagic. Usually plentiful. Not any more.
And so we wallow on back on to Lalaland, where the kayak lives, just making it through the waves unscathed, when a tiny kid is running up to us. He has mask and snorkel, and looks determined mean, even at his early age. But he has one of our Mydos lost to the net from before. He asks us for R50, to give our lure back to us. Ha Ha ha. Last decade maybe. We promise him something later and he leaves us our lure, and sprints back to his family walking the beach to Barra.
This is the family that are living off the illegally installed submerged gill net. They are a group of about 15, all of the males, young to old, swim out to dive on, harvest, maintain and repair their net. The holes are much bigger. It is a real gill net. No doubt imported from the East.
They have two lovely sierras, or couta, or Spanish mackerels… A good 10kg each. Nice size fish for this time of year. No smaller fish.
And they are all smiling as they make their way to Barra, where the fresh fish will sell for about 3000 Mets. R1000. And feed, clothe, educate…an entire family tree.
“Give us our daily bread… “, is all they have asked for.
“Tofo on a Kayak is the theme for a series of trips undertaken whilst here this season, on a Kayak… Check back soon for episode two…”
