We have seen gentler weather over the last few days, and while the ocean has been fishable, our boarding and disembarking the boat has been both exciting and wet. Very wet. Also, sitting on a boat from early morning until late evening is exhausting. Why I do not know, maybe the motion is the cause, certainly not the boredom. When you are tense, you cannot be bored.
In hindsight, I should have shared the link on Facebook to Dugong Lodge last week, our accommodation where Martin and Caron will only be too pleased to hear from you: https://web.facebook.com/DugongLodgeInhassoro/
Just scrolling through their photos is worthwhile.
To ease my conscience and share some information on the status of the Black Marlin in the Indian Ocean, I did some “Google” research. In 2020, the Kobe*, assay suggested that the Black Marlin was classified as green, indicating it was not overfished. Iran, India, and China had the largest catches, with some 20,000 tonnes a year harvested. This figure is up from about 12,000 tonnes in the previous decade. Will this greater tonnage now have a much more adverse effect? Of course, I do not believe that all the catches are correctly recorded. Who could do a physical audit of a large fish factory ship fish hold at sea?
Trivia: The average American long line fishing string is 48 km
Most fishermen, including the team we charter, release the marlin as soon as possible. Weights are now visual appraisals of the fish alongside the boat supported by photographs of girth and length. Of course, record fish may be brought in for weighing, although some fish that may have broken records have been released more recently. Good! In fact, killing fish is very much frowned upon in the billfish sportfishing fraternity. Any fisherman making it a habit suffers open criticism. Many clients also insist on catch and release, favouring those crews that do. The sports anglers are excellent watchdogs of the ocean in alerting the authorities when illegal longliners or netters approach restricted waters.
Our fishing charterer who comes highly recommended can be found at https://web.facebook.com/brucecookefishing/. Give Bruce or Irené a ring. Some nice fishing photos on their page too.
This area in and around the Bazaruto Archipelago, sharks are a problem. This week sharks ate a couple of caught marlin, including ours much to everyone’s disgust. Rozanne has a more philosophical take on it saying, "Sharks also have to eat.” Rarely a day goes by without a Zambezi or Hammerhead following the boat. This means moving to a new location to preserve the bait and if a fish is caught to lessen the chance of it being predated. When I came down in 1987 Rupert van der Rit, a well known Zimbabwean crocodile farmer, hunter and fisherman, used to shoot them with his shotgun. Those days are long gone, although many a fisherman would still like to do so. Zambezi (Bull) and Hammerhead sharks are prevalent, although Tiger, White Tip Reef and other sharks are common.
Success! On Tuesday after many years of trying I caught my first marlin. I have had a marlin on the line briefly before but only as a take rather than a serious rub. The exception was on Monday when I lost one to a shark. That one I had on for 30 minutes until it was eaten only about 40 metres from the boat. The fish Storm had on, broke the line after taking some 700 metres of line, heating the Tiagra130 reel. I mean heated enough that it would burn you if touched, which happened to Bruce who touched it afterwards. Real excitement that day with no success. The one I had on was estimated to be over 600lbs. Why fishermen talk in pounds, I do not know? Because there are more of them? After all, 600 sounds a lot better than 270 (in kg). The one that Storm lost brought about huge despondency to our crew of professional marlin fishermen. When Rozanne saw it take the Kona that John Tidy, a friend from Portugal gave me, she thought it was a great white shark, it was so big. She just saw a massive bow wave heading for the lure. She had a bird’s eye view as she was sitting up on the flying bridge when it struck. I do really believe it may have been the 1,000 pounders that they, our professionals, claimed, as they could not stop talking about it the whole of the rest of the day In fact until I caught my very own the following afternoon. Later in the week Rozanne also had success with a marlin caught. We are going out again tomorrow, hopefully, Storm will catch one too. Find out more next week.
For those unaware of what marlin fishing entails, it is certainly not like any other sport, fishing, river, sea or reef. It entails hours that turn into days of waiting for that elusive strike. It means first hunting for live bait, preferably Yellowfin Tuna or Bonito. Normally caught on Rapala, Feather or Spoon. If you manage to catch these, then anything around 10 kg is ideal to use. You have live wells and live tubes to keep the baitfish alive. Live tubes force water around the fish-holding it in place, thus preventing physical damage. You then have one of these live baits, maybe two, handheld off the back of the boat for hours with a breakable elastic band hooked around the finger attached to the line for quick release on a strike. When the marlin takes live bait it is really up close and personal, with the fish lighting up just prior to striking. A slow forward speed engaged for this method making rough seas uncomfortable for the uninitiated.
The alternate methods include dead baitfish rigged up to either a Skip or Swim. The bait can be Bonito, Queenfish, Sierra and other fish. This requires trolling, at a speed of about 10kmph. The third method is lures. Konas, which are trolled at about 13 kmph. All three include hours of looking for birds in front to indicate baitfish and watching the lines at the rear to ensure we are awake to the bite when it occurs. With lures, you may have as many as eight lines out, some for catching bait and some for marlin. Marlin fishing requires at least one expert on board. We were lucky to have two of the best in Bruce Cooke, our skipper and Charles Lee, who joined us as he had no clients for a few days. Charles has caught over 18 marlins since the beginning of October. We also had the experience of Irené on board, Bruce’s partner. While a skilled fisherman himself he is busy increasing his knowledge from both Charles and Bruce. Charles and Bruce have become friends over our many years of fishing together.
In sitting there I thought successful marlin fishing is very much like any business. You need to know your goals; you have to have the right experience coupled with knowledge for success; you need the right equipment; you need tenacity. Successful marlin fish skippers are pedantic in applying the detail of their trade—the right rigs, the correct speeds, the right spots, the right hooks. We used circle hooks which are much better for safe release. Every working and social hour is spent talking about marlin. It is not everybody’s choice of holiday, 4 am starts, long hours travelling across bone-shaking seas to the fishing areas of choice in the open ocean, often getting soaked followed by hours of waiting for a strike. For some of us, we get the bug. I have had it; now my wife has perhaps, Storm may do so too. Illness and sea queasiness has not stopped Storm from getting out of bed in the dark and joining us every day.
“Marlin fishing is like a business. You can get everything right, catch the fish and then lose everything to some shark. Just like real sharks, human sharks especially like to attack the vulnerable, often taking the elderlies savings.” - Peter McSporran
Goodbye Freedom
By stepping onto that train on that chilly evening in June 1973, I did not realise I was also saying goodbye to my freedom over the next year. The transition from freedom to the army was the overnight trip with friends saying a friendly goodbye, to the harsh reality of arriving at Heany Junction Siding to be greeted by snarling foul-mouths with what we were to learn later, was assumed hate in their expressions. Maybe in some, it was not assumed, just their normal feelings towards new conscripts.
On boarding the train, I learned I was sharing a sleeping apartment with a more worldly New Zealander who introduced himself as John, he ran a garage in Headlands. I had driven through headlands a few times and considered it a God-forsaken place for anyone to live. He somehow had smuggled in a couple of crates of Dumpies; A Dumpy was a short bottle that held either Lion or Castle Lager, the Rhodesians favourite tipple. Beer drinking was taken seriously in Rhodesia, with most middle-aged men and older proud of their “Rhodesian Fronts”, or beer bellies.
I am sure we were not meant to drink on the train, and uniformed soldiers ensured we remained in our allocated apartment except for toilet visits. Anyway, what ensued was proven to be an error of judgement; rarely a month goes by without me making at least one, some minor, some major. This one could be deemed medium. As we drank, we piled the empty bottles in and over the sink until overflowing. As the night progressed, the pressure from the bottles kept the tap open, therefore, before long the whole carriage had no water left for any purpose. By the time we reached Insiza in the early morning, I was what is termed in drinking circles as being “finished!". I knew it was Insiza as by that time I had my head out the carriage window to maximise air intake and discharge the previous evening farewell dinner along with most of the beer I had consumed. This early morning evacuation was too late to stop the ensuing headache. My colour had changed from a healthy farm tan to a very unhealthy green hue.
Just after first light, we arrived at Heany Junction, the nearest siding to Llewellin Barracks, where the snarling fellows in uniform greeted us. I presume they had rank; it did not matter as at that stage we had no idea of the power of the army ranking system. It is a system where the power is passed down gaining momentum until it reaches the lowest of the bottom feeders. That was us. The anger seems to accumulate as it is passed down from rank to rank, the angriest being those lowly corporals that met us at Heany. Straight away, we came across the army logic. They told us to line up. They made a point of having a roll call. On reaching me they asked if I was ill, before I could answer the snarling face yelled, “No, I can smell you are not ill!” No special treatment for my condition then. Then they told us to run to the trucks and load our minimal kit. Why did they not ask us to get on the trucks straight away? Off we set in what we were to learn were Bedford RL trucks. It was wet and freezing. My excitement of leaving the previous night had changed to one of trepidation as we passed through the gates of Llewellin Barracks.
The Final Leg of The AgDevCo Scoping Flight
On leaving Pemba, we set off heading inland west towards Lichinga not far from the shores of Lake Malawi. Once again, we were met with a wall of cloud, luckily managing to miss the very worst. It was still an exciting bumpy trip with at times hail and rain smashing into the windshield. On arriving at Lichinga, we were met by some of the people doing forestry up there. Lichinga itself had access only by air or terrible roads requiring at least a sturdy 4x4 vehicle. The railway line covering the 262 km from the Port of Nacala had been unused since the liberation war. Even after the war ended, it was left unrepaired until 2017 when it was rehabilitated for $100 million.
Lichinga looked like it offered good farming opportunities with good red soils visible from the air and excellent water resources in the form of perennial streams. It seemed then the only activity being carried out there other than subsistence farming was forestry. Although the climate would suit many grain and fruit crops, there was no point in growing them without being logistically able to reach the markets. Local people had nothing.
We had come across forestry models in Tanzania where it seemed the focus was on planting or claiming to plant as many trees as possible to ensure an inflated balance sheet in order to raise further funds from existing shareholders, sponsors or public listings. Plant, plant, plant. Unlike Tanzania, there was no obvious market. In Tanzania, there were already pulping mills, a huge market for electric poles (12 metres plus) and the burgeoning Kenyan construction industry. Equally, there was at least infrastructure in the form of roads and rail to access markets
We found that those people involved in planting trees were relying solely on a promise that the rail line would eventually be rehabilitated, which it proved correct, being completed in 2017.
Peter Sheppherd had supplied some irrigation systems for forestry nurseries and when we landed he was met with an irate Scandinavian lady who was the General Manager of a large church-sponsored forestry project. Yes, wealthy churches not only build missions, many invest in businesses, especially in Africa. She did say she was covering more than double the area under the scheme Peter supplied but the trees were very uneven. We soon learned that the system Peter supplied comprised of misters for germination and micro sprinkles for growing. In their wisdom, they decided there was no need for both and instead left one or the other at each point alternately taking the surplus to cover further ground. Of course, the seedlings were uneven as the configuration was wrong. When Peter, with my support, pointed out the problem, the ‘irate’ lady and her team argued the issue, claiming it was the system design that was wrong, not their new configuration coupled with their management that had caused the problem. She then stated that the reservoir he designed was too small. The water for the nursery was lifted from a perennial river into a reservoir where the silt settled before being applied to the tree seedlings. Even me, a dumb farmer could see the reservoir, which was a large rectangular plastic-lined hole, deepened with the soil excavated as walls were not level. While overflowing at one end, the water level at the other was about a metre from the lip. Once again when this was pointed out, an argument ensued with her Brazilian engineer, he was instructed to bring his theodolite to prove us wrong. Needless to say, the man could not work the said instrument, so as far as they were concerned, we were once again wrong. In the meanwhile, we saw 30-tonne rigs being dispatched with one layer of seedlings for planting at widespread locations. When pointed out, a simple tray and rail system could increase capacity by maybe five times, once again this logic was dismissed. A similar example would be like seeing a 30-tonne rig taking one layer of crates to the poultry abattoir as opposed to eight layers stacked. Even a layman would consider that stupid.
The final icing on the cake was when we were taken to see the new dam they had constructed. Their innovative pride and joy. It was simply a push-up wall, no core and importantly no spillway. Peter this time forcibly said it would fail and could be a danger when it burst, not if, to those downstream. Once again, an argument. We were to learn following the very first downpour it washed away. Needless to say, when I visited Lichinga a few years later all those forestry companies we came across in 2008 were long gone with only a limited amount of forest remaining, neither well established and mostly abandoned. Farmers are practical people, why do sponsors prefer technocrats and bean counters to good hands-on management? In any farming enterprise, just like marlin fishing, unless you take on someone with good practical knowledge coupled with sound management ability, it will surely fail.
Rather dismayed from our visit we set off across Lake Malawi towards home stopping at Mfuwe for fuel. As the day was clear we were very relaxed until the engine cut out for a few seconds as we left Malawian airspace. This was for no apparent reason, although those seconds felt like minutes. Home safely, vastly relieved I went off to write my report to support the formation of AgDevCo. Han Derksen, Chris Isaac and I prepared this report and on the back of that, AgDevCo was formed in 2009. When I resigned as a director it had grown to manage some £250 million and growing. I will chat about the early years next week.
Meanwhile, after a week Peter was informed by one of his pilot contacts that the supporting spar of the tail wing had been broken and could have fallen off at any time. Sometimes it is better to learn some facts after the event, imagine how much more of a worry we would have if we even had a suspicion it might have been broken, never mind actually broken.
“If something bad could happen it is better to learn this after it hasn't happened. Bad luck if it does, at least you missed out on the worry which can be harder to suffer than the event.” - Peter McSporran
*Kobe Protocol-Sustainable fishing assay
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
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