Desroches – Seychelles, February 2010

»A bona fide paradise for fly-fishing aficionados and light-tackle anglers!«

Martina and I bounced around the idea of vacationing on the Seychelles from time to time in recent years. Undoubtedly many other people who enjoy saltwater fishing have considered doing the same, and were probably equally awestruck when they began researching the possibilities and discovered the stunning pictures of the beaches and rocks of La Digue featured in glossy flyers. Asking around, I learned that few anglers in the Germanophone region know more than a little about the Seychelles. That clinched it for me; I decided to shed some light on the mystery! So we set out on a web search for a nice hotel that offers organized fishing with an in-house guide. When we discovered Desroches, the decision pretty much made itself. It’s not only a fabulous island; it’s also a splendid spot for fly- and light-tackle fishing – in other words, exactly what we were looking for! I’ve always wanted to catch a bonefish and a big dogtooth tuna, and this is the place where they are said to come in record-setting sizes! Our time-tested approach to vacationing calls for a division of labor, so Martina managed the peripheral logistics while I focused on the fishing.

The adventure finally began on February 22, 2010 with the first leg of the journey from Frankfurt to Dubai. Next stop, the Seychelles’ capital Mahé, where we caught a tiny twin-engine Cessna to Desroches. A 45-minute hop from Mahé, Desroches is part of an archipelago called the Outer Islands. It is about six kilometers long and a kilometer wide. On the island is a small but swank hotel with twenty rooms and some twenty villas accommodating eight, replete with kitchen, pool, and all the other appointments you might need to survive in a lush tropical setting. Total travel time from Frankfurt to the doorstep of our holiday home was just eighteen hours, including all stopovers.

We had booked nine days of fishing – a mix of fly-, popper-, and drop-shotfishing, as well as trolling and jigging. It was much the same agenda as on the Maldives, only this time out with professional skippers, boats, and fly-fishing guides. I came armed with two popper rods, one jigging rod and two fly rods, one a number 7, the other a number 10, and the determination to catch a few snappers, a nice dogtooth tuna, and a bonefish or two.

Day one

Day 1: That evening, as we bellied up to the bar for a welcoming drink, Henk Ferreira took the opportunity to introduce himself. A professional skipper from South Africa, Henk manages the boats. We soon found common ground, so it didn’t take long to get my nine days organized. At noon the next day we ventured out for a four-hour excursion on the Dil-e-Cat, a 27 ft boat equipped with twin 200-hp Yamaha engines. We started with a classic technique, trolling for reef fish. The action kicked off with two strikes from sailfish. I caught one, and just fifteen minutes later the next. While I was at it, I also reeled in a few bonitos, a wahoo, and a nice barracuda. After an hour or so we stopped trolling and starting chugging the channel at the reef’s edge with a popper. Unfortunately, the giant trevally (GT) weren’t biting that day. Then we jigged Henk’s hot-spots for dogtooth tuna. We didn’t catch anything worth mentioning apart for some snappers and a few jacks. Nonetheless, I was very impressed with the wealth of fish to be found right there at my holiday home’s doorstep.

On the second day

the Oil-e-Cat set out over calm waters, heading to one of the neighboring islands at 25 knots. After about an hour and a half we reached St. Joseph islet. We started trolling, and then began chugging poppers at high tide, as well as alternately trying our hands at jigging and drop-shot fishing. At the end of the day, our catch list itemized a remarkably wide range of reef fish. St. Joseph is unpopulated, and seldom is another boat to be seen. Though the big game fish hang out elsewhere, these waters are brimming with fish that will have you in light-tackle heaven!

On day three

after breakfast we set out on bikes and armed with rods to explore Desroches. Martina hunted for seashells; my quarry was bonefish. Martina found a bag full of beauties and I… well, what can I say? I’ll let the pictures tell the story.

That afternoon, the Dil-e-Cat was mine for another four hours, but Lady Luck had deserted us. Our trolling efforts were undermined by marauding sharks. The only thing left of most catches by the time we got them back to the boat was a fish head, if that. And all attempts at jigging failed – our bait didn’t even make it to the bottom because the sharks got to it first! With a lot of effort and a bit of luck, we finally managed to safely reel in some snappers.

Day four

was devoted to fly-fishing. The hotel has three professional flat guides to call on for fly-fishing. I can recommend them all wholeheartedly; they’re not only true masters of the craft, but also great guys… (Jim Welch, USA / Ramiro Badessich, Argentinien / Llewellyn Claven, Südafrika).

On day five

the agenda called for half a day’s reef fishing off our temporary island home. That afternoon our catch was as ample and diverse as on previous outings; only the elusive dogtooth tuna shunned our advances.

For the sixth day

we headed to the island of Poivre, home to a population of four, for a spot of fly-fishing. Conditions were perfect, and we spotted some permit in the flats first thing that morning. Sadly, the fish displayed little enthusiasm for our bait. We trotted about eight kilometers along the reef, often spotting hunting sharks. Seeing a big barracuda stalking its prey in knee-deep water was unforgettable indeed. Our patience paid off when we came across an enormous school of bonefish – some 1,500 to 2,000 strong according to Jim’s estimate! In sheer numbers, it was the finest hour in my personal history of bone-fishing. I couldn’t help but get a strike on every cast! After the eighth catch, we gave the bonefish a break and continued searching the reef’s edge for permit and GTs. In the afternoon, we saw more permit and caught another bonefish. We could have caught fifty more that day, but frankly, it felt like dropping a line in a fish-tank. It would have been the perfect training day for the fledgling fly fisherman, but I get a bigger kick out spotting and casting for single fish.

Day seven

was again earmarked for fly-fishing with a return trip to St. Joseph’s Atoll. It would become the absolute highlight of my trip! The morning started off with a bang: We caught a blacktip shark and lemon shark, the latter quite sizable to be hooked on the end of a fly rod. It’s not easy to get a shark on a fly. They tend to go for red, black and yellow hues only. We also reeled a few lovely bonefish. In the afternoon, we set our sights on finally collaring a GT along the reef. And catching GTs with a streamer is no mean feat! They don’t travel slowly, and rarely come into casting range.

After about an hour we spotted a fine specimen less than twenty meters away, traveling fast and headed straight for us. Probably as surprised to see us as we were excited to see it, the GT disappeared with a mighty splash. An hour or so later, a two-meter nurse shark ambled by about fifteen meters from our position. The shark was accompanied by eight to ten midsized bluefin trevally followed by an enigmatic and very large black shadow. I managed to drop my streamer amid the school with the first cast when all hell broke loose. The entire entourage snapped at the bait, but then the water exploded as the black shadow came crashing to snatch my bait. Jim and I couldn’t believe the spectacle we were witnessing – small bluefins are usually much faster. It took the big GT a few seconds to realize that it was hooked – after all, nobody messes with the big boss of the flats!

But then it blasted off on a long run far into the backing and out into the open sea! After a pitched battle lasting a good twenty minutes, we were able to reel in this trophy fish! Amid lots of exultant shouting, we took a picture of the big guy and released him unharmed. I guess nobody told him about the conventional wisdom that says that streamers are only good for catching small fry …

Later we spotted a few more permit; alas, they never came within casting range. The water grew cloudier as the tide rolled in, bringing with it more and more sharks. They moved in just a little too close for comfort for anglers sometimes standing chest-deep in the big blue. It wasn’t just the increasing numbers that alarmed us; some of these beasties were awfully big, so we decided to knock off early and call it a day – a very successful and extraordinarily satisfying one at that.

The eighth day

presented the final opportunity to bag an elusive dogtooth tuna. That afternoon Henk and I spent four solid hours jigging until our arms ached, with just a few snappers to show for our pains.

The ninth and final day of fishing

Somewhere out in the Indian Ocean a tropical storm had raged that night, and we were getting a mild lashing by its tail. Undaunted, we decided to head over to Poivre for some fly-fishing regardless of the circumstances. Wind, rain, and an overcast sky were not, however, auspicious conditions. We caught five bonefish that morning, and saw a few triggerfish along the reef that had no intentions of being outwitted by us. After lunch on board, we coasted a few kilometers up the reef’s edge, looking for permit. We saw around thirty – some quite big – but seeing is not catching. Worse yet, the fly fisherman’s worst enemy was gusting in our faces. We caught another beautiful bonefish at the last spot and headed home.