When big game fishing I have low expectations when it comes to catching fish. I have only done it twice before and on both occasions was wrung out by the smell of diesel, the motion of the boat and the lack of fish. It’s a hit or miss sport, but when the day is yours and you are lucky enough to experience a sea that feels alive with activity, suddenly big game fishing is truly jaw dropping. A day at Christmas fishing off the northern coast of Zanzibar was one such day. However, the start wasn’t auspicious. In spite of my best intentions of an ideal day, on a boat, in the sunshine, with the family, I had forgotten just how extreme the big game fishing experience can be.

From the very start, we were in for a rollercoaster as both of my children started to feel sea sick the moment they stepped onto the boat. We were only 10 minutes out of harbour when a relay of buckets, water and more sea sickness tablets were passed and consumed. This wasn’t going to be trip that I had imagined for everyone, in fact, I was beginning to think we should call the day off, when one rod buckled , the reel screamed and I was handed the rod. There was no audience at this moment, no one saw anything but the bottom of a bucket, and I meantime, dancing around the crew who gallantly were emptying buckets, was led a merry dance by a 15lb Dorado. Sometimes you can feel strangely alone left to reel in this fish whilst the rest of boat now needed to get to dry land. Enough was enough, and having landed the fish [I was delighted to have hooked something!], we turned round and bounced back to the shore and an hour later once landed, and settled on firm ground, we were waved off by a relieved family and took off again, me and the boat captains. So much for the idea of a family boat trip.

The skill in big game fishing doesn’t lie with the angler. Your job as the bloke who booked the day, is to be ready for the moment when one of 6 out rigged rods is hit by a fish. It may sound simple, but believe me, catching fish in a lurching 10 foot swell is anything but relaxing. This was less about balance and more about jamming yourself into the edges of the boat and you, the rod, and your stomach see saw with the motion of the boat. Oh by the way, there could be a fish on the end which only adds to the sense of being tipped up, pulled back and staring into the water. The skill lies with the Captain of the boat in how he angles the lines and baits into likely fish holding areas, and then if you are fortunate to hook a fish, his ability to keep the required tension between the rod and the fish. Your role is to wind. This isn’t the gentle winding of a trout reel or a centrepin, the tension maintained by an ounce of fingered pressure. This is the full brute force of teeth grinding tension. Huge reels, thick nylon and you matched against an oceans depth of fish and space to run.

Dorado average about 15lbs and are plentiful in the Indian Ocean. Famously called the ‘chicken of the sea’ they grow quickly and if there is a slash of birds at the waters surface, you will likely see the desperate quest of Dorado and Tuna plunging into the bait fish.The mayhem of a feeding frenzy is a sight to see and the flashing lights of birds and balls of spinning bait fish were all around us. We motored near to the bird activity when one of the rods buckled and I quickly tried to fix the back harness and rod bucket and grabbing the rod, then leant into the fish. It made no difference. I was leaning into full pressure or so I thought, but I was making absolutely no difference to the surging raw brute force of this fish. On it went, 300 yards, 400 yards and then the slow motion explosion from the sea as it flung itself upwards. I was still attached to this fish but only just. I had no idea that this was only the start of the process. 20 minutes went by and I was still holding on, 40 minutes had gone and I had no idea what species was at the end of the line. Both boat captains were now silent, all other rods dismantled. Maybe they had seen this before, either way they weren’t telling me. An hour had passed in 32 degrees heat. This better be worth it I remember thinking and still I was winding, watching the rod tip bang as the boat fell into the crease of the wave. And still I wound. 70 minutes in, and slowly the fish came to the surface and I caught sight of the luminous almost dayglo green of a huge Dorado, the whole of its head like a slam of muscle and bone. This was a big fish and the sight of big fish never calms the nerves. This was brute force now and the fish wasn’t interested in coming to the boat and plunged down and directly below the engines. By now I was clinging on with blistered hands. Fortunately the Captain shifted the angle on the boat and that seemed to free the fish from its 30 foot sulk, and we were able to bring this extraordinary creature onto the boat. I was speechless. I had never seen a fish that big, and I certainly hadn’t caught one that size before.

Bull headed, a slam of muscle and bone

We estimated the fish at over 35kgs which is monster fish for the species. We had simply hit a day when the sea was alive with feeding fish and fish big or small were out feeding. I simply didn’t mind anymore, I was done in by the moment, the catch and the surprise of landing something of that size. We strung the rods again, and set the reels. I drank water and waited. I wasn’t concentrating at all, when another rod went down, and this time it was clear that this was another truly huge fish. ‘Sailfish!’ went the shout, and now literally 5 minutes after the Dorado moment, I readied myself to lean into the Sailfish. I lifted the rod. Nothing.I turned the reel.Nothing. I turned to the guys on the boat and said the reel must be jammed. It wasn’t. I was and the Sailfish, well in excess of 100kgs was gone.

‘Saltwater fishing is only for the strong man with a hard stomach. It’s like sex after lunch’ [Charles Ritz]

Soft hands

I booked my unforgettable days fishing with www.fishingzanzibar.com.