Imagining the Seychelles |
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Like a homing beacon it stands proud in the distance, willing our heat-sapped legs to walk another mile or so through hot, shallow water. The biggest, most deserted flat I have ever seen is slowly lighting up with the inexorable rise of the brutal sun. I see nothing but water, deserted horizon and utter, wild desolation, yet my heart is fit to burst clear of my chest with excitement and sheer exertion as I begin the angling adventure of a lifetime on the Providence atoll of the Seychelles. “There’ll be bones here for sure, maybe some milkies as well,” says FlyCastaway guide Arno Matthee in a bid to keep us walking. Paul Boyers meanwhile stops momentarily to pin a big, tailing triggerfish as if it’s the most normal thing on earth. I am sure the reason he smiled so readily for my camera is because my mouth was hanging uncontrollably open in a complete state of wonderment. So far from home, seemingly off the edge of the earth in fact, these switched-on South Africans have gone and found arguably the best saltwater flats fishing on the planet. The bottom changes suddenly from turtle grass and broken coral to hard white sand. A couple of miles behind us we can just make out the tender breaking the lonely horizon, but as my eyes adjust to the different conditions ahead, Arno and Paul simply grin at me like demented loons. When a couple of hardcore fishing guides get a day off, you’d think rest would be at the top of their to-do list, but not these two, who much like the saying goes, would rather be fishing. Serious numbers of huge bones mill around in the ankle-deep clear water, while further to the north we can just make out the scything tales of big milkfish. And just then, like a ravenous horde, we fall upon the flat.
It seems as if these bones have never fed before. There is a high chance we are the first people ever to fish this flat. The FlyCastaway guys spotted it a while back on satellite maps and were waiting for a chance to fish it properly before taking paying clients. When someone with as much Seychelles experience as Arno Matthee gets excited about a flat, you know something is up, and Providence has certainly got these guys excited. While Arno is royally smashing the bones, I am keeping a close eye on Paul in the distance. He has been studiously ignoring the temptation of the bones in front of us and has instead spent his time targeting the erratically moving milkfish. I doubt there are two fly-fishermen on earth with as much experience on milkfish as Arno and Paul. The fly Arno invented to catch them has been generously named after him - Arno’s Milky Dream, a fly designed to look like a tempting morsel of green algae and be subtly dead-drifted through feeding milkfish. He has spent years refining his techniques and even now will attest to how challenging these magnificent fish are to catch. Seeing milkies is usually no problem at all, indeed they are all over these flats, but the trick is to be there when they move or feed in a manner that allows us to catch them. As Paul hooked up to a screaming milkfish, I watched as he skillfully landed it. What a fish! Its power and stamina is a testament to the glee lighting up Paul’s face as he exclaimed, “Now this is what I call the ultimate day off!” The Vast AtollThe South African guides that make up the company FlyCastaway are fairly well documented for providing the best flats-based sight-fishing for giant trevally there is on the better known Cosmoledo Atoll. Watching a rampaging fish charging down your fly in the heat of battle is enough to give any fisherman the shakes. I have seen grown men freeze as their guide implores them to set the hook and set it hard. GTs on the flats make for utter insanity, to the point where I sometimes find myself unable to fully rationalize the heart-pounding experience. These guys use 130 lb. Sufix Zippy leaders straight through and razor sharp 6/0 Flashy Profile and Brushy flies to catch these monsters, nabbing GTs well over 100 pounds on the flats for their clients. Believe me, you will see fish like this swimming around, and only a decent number 12 fly rod and reel will do, plus a tropical floating fly line and knots you’d trust your life to. GTs aside, there is also some of the finest bonefishing in the world for some seriously big fish, plus Indo-Pacific permit, triggerfish, milkfish and a host of bluewater species intent on ripping your flies to pieces. There are a few more ultra-remote atolls these guys are starting to seriously explore as alternatives to Cosmoledo; Providence is one of them.
Very different in feel to Cosmoledo, Providence measures on a larger scale, but you can only get your head around it from a satellite image. A vast system of flats, channels, holes, surf-breaks and drop-offs lie there in the middle of the Indian Ocean, unknown to many and only now opening up to the truly adventurous fly-fishermen. What On Earth Is That?“How about a go at a bumpie?” asks guide Keith Rose-Innes late one night. At first I thought this was Afrikaans for some weird drink or even something a bit stranger, and my quizzical, dumbfounded look must have really confused him. “How about we take a look at pinning a bumphead parrotfish on the fly, on the flats? I know it can be done around here, so how about we go looking tomorrow?” Science says these fish should not take flies and certainly should not be taken on the flats, but give a South African a few drinks and he’ll believe anything is possible. The very next morning we’ve timed the tide to smash a few rampaging GTs on the edge of a reef. We aim at trying for a bumpie on the deeper turtle grass flat behind us as it fills up. Sure enough, the GTs are there in force and it proves hard to pull ourselves away, but as the water begins to rise, we call the tender in to pick us up and drop us on the flat. Everyone now has bumpy on the brain. I can only liken my first glimpse of a bunch of big bumphead parrotfish moving across the flats to a herd of hippos moving from one watering hole to another. The odd, big, paddle-like tail that came out of the water seemed to signify that these gentle giants were feeding on something in the turtle grass. As Rob made his first cast across the fish and spooked the lot, the water was violently displaced as perhaps 20 big fish charged off across the warm flat. “Put the fly in front of the lead fish and let it sink. Twitch it gently, make sure they can see the fly, but keep it nice and easy. Let’s see if that gets them going,” reassured Keith to Rob who was understandably adrenaline-fueled.
Onto the next herd and Rob puts his white Velcro Crab right down in front of the big lead fish. A couple of twitches and everything suddenly and rather shockingly tightens. As Keith shouts, “Strip strike, keep the rod down and to the side; those jaws are lethal,” everything just as suddenly goes slack. Rob ruefully winds his line back in as the herd stampedes off, and all of us stare somewhat agog at the remains of his fly. What was once a whole hook was now bit in half. I could see Rob physically bristle with indignation and then pump himself back up for the challenge. Bring it on! The actual hooking, fighting and landing of Rob’s big parrotfish was completely surreal. The fish very visibly drops its head down to eat his fly, Rob then strip strikes a couple of times and pulls the fish hard to the side to try and keep that light bonefish leader from running across its hard jaws. A very big lump of angry tropical fish then snorts off across the flat with Rob in hot pursuit through deeper water. By the time he is up to his chest, I am wondering how to help, but he puts real pressure on the fish with his number 10 and things eventually begin to slow down. What about landing this creature? Now that a fish is actually hooked and beginning to tire, what happens with grabbing this thing? Keith and Paul are frantically throwing ideas at each other while they reassure Rob and I to keep an eye out for interested sharks. This place is about as wild as it gets. Grab It, Don’t Let Go, and Watch Out!In the first attempt at a grab, Paul receives a hard smack from the fish’s tail right in the chest. GTs may be big and powerful, but they have a very civilized wrist to the tail, making it comparatively easier to grab with a gloved hand. Bumpies meanwhile have a wrist so thick making it almost impossible to get your hands around. Keith and Paul make an instant decision to do this the old fashioned way. Both of them wade in, somehow latch onto the fish, and then start to try and calm it down. That feeling of utter elation as Rob gently cradled this magnificent fish for some photos ran through all of us. As the 40-pound rule-breaking fish swam back to its herd, we all began to take stock at what just happened. Last I heard these bumphead parrotfish have been taken over 70 pounds on the flats. Just what is possible in these remote, wild waters? One will never fully know. The ultra-remote Seychelles are so far off the scale in fishing terms; one would find it hard to believe such a place actually exists.
Henry Gilbey works as a fishing photographer, writer and tackle consultant. A complete fishing junkie since seven, he fell into presenting TV fishing programs by mistake, but this was all the excuse he needed to forge a career in fishing. Today, Henry loves to catch anything that swims. See more of his work at www.henry-gilbey.co.uk. Where To Toss The Bags There is only one group of guides that I trust to do this “off the face of the earth” saltwater fly-fishing, and that is the South African company FlyCastaway. They come with a vast amount of experience at organizing these kinds of trips, and their guides are just fantastic. FlyCastaway Most of these Seychelles trips run on a week-to-week basis and it is strongly advised that clients get themselves to Mahé a day before the charter flight departs and make the same arrangements on the return leg in case of last minute flight changes. Make no mistake, flying to Mahé from the U.S. is a long journey, but it is more than worth it. I would look at arriving two to three days prior to your trip to recover from jet lag. Most flights connect from South Africa or Paris through Air Seychelles. Air Seychelles
Bring Your CameraThe granitic islands of the Seychelles archipelago are clustered around the main island of Mahé, home to the international airport and the capital, Victoria. Most of the islands are easily accessible and offer varying degrees of luxury. Take a lazy day on one of the many pristine beaches or scuba dive under the outrageously clear waters. For good eats, restaurants throughout the Seychelles offer an international fusion of delectable culinary delights. Big game fishing boats run out from Mahé daily, where the waters are famous for marlin, sailfish, wahoo and yellowfin tuna. On the remote atolls, visitors will be surrounded by their own private aquarium observing a host of unique sea-life swimming within reach. When walking the flats, it is vital to travel light. FlyCastaway will advise you on exactly what is needed before your trip. In terms of apparel, standard tropical fly-fishing clothes will work fine, though high quality flats-boots are absolutely essential. Other Notes of InterestAbout The Seychelles
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“These are galeforce bones, make no mistake” says Arno, as the humid wind whistles across this perfect flat. “I’ve got one day off and I’m going to smash some fish,” says Paul who wanders off in search of milkfish while Arno and I fill our boots with bones averaging over six pounds, and some nudging double digits. I definitely see fish way in excess of 10 pounds, but in reality I’m not good enough to catch them. At one point I am leaning over Arno’s shoulder with my camera, watching as he hooks a big bonefish. 
