London letter – Bush fishing an entrepreneurial opportunity

Some years ago, while visiting South Africa, I had a cunning plan to merge two pleasures into one and make some money at the same time.

It was when I was working on a book with my late brother-in-law, Lawrence Anthony, and he and his business partner had just bought a tract of semi-wilderness called Intaba Ingwe in Heatonville that abutted his game reserve Thula Thula.

I had a travelling fly rod with me (as always) and I flicked out an English fly onto a wild African dam where there were hippos snoring in the mud on the far bank.

To my astonishment, I caught a tilapia. I reckon that must have been one of the first times a wild tilapia had been caught on a gaudy Brit lure festooned with faux fur and tinsel, and it got me thinking; maybe I could persuade the Poms that this was new age angling.

We could bring groups out here and show them primordial fishing where crocs and hippos were in the water and your neighbours, a Nyala ram or a troop of baboons coming down to drink.

To add some spice to the mix (and to give me a slick title for the operation) I would throw in a couple of days fishing at Jozini for tiger fish, the most southern perimeter for these hard fighting game fish. The tours would be called Tigers and Tilapia (clever hey?)

I put this to Lawrence as a business venture and he laughed like a drain as he saw right through it; this wasn’t about Tigers or Tilapias – it was about me; especially when I said we would need a state of the art boat for the setup.

However, he was kind enough to say if it went ahead, he would give special rates to fishermen at the lodges.

That was five years ago. Last month I was back at Intaba Ingwe and wandered over to one of the dams to see what was lurking beneath the brown waters.

Monster fish

This time I didn’t have a fly rod; just a spinning outfit and some chicken livers. Lawrence’s son Dylan had sent me a photo of a monster barbel he had caught and I decided to do it the local way.

I had barely cast out when my ratchet screamed and I was basically fighting for my flimsy rod’s life. I had hooked something that didn’t even know it – and it wasn’t a croc. A few seconds later, as I was frantically adjusting my drag, the line snapped like a guitar string.

I re-rigged and cast out again. Once more the ratchet screamed, but this time it was manageable. After a dogged few minutes I brought ashore an 8kg-plus barbel that was beautiful in its ugliness.

The same thing happened a few minutes later. So after a couple of hours of the most enjoyable fishing I have had for ages, I went home a happy angler, pausing only to watch a skittish Impala bring his harem down to quench thirst on the opposite bank.

The next day I met the new owner of Intaba Ingwe, Mark, and told him that he had some monsters in his dams.

Mark, unlike Lawrence, is a professional fisherman and runs charters for marlin off Richards Bay.

Like most South African anglers, throwing hooks for lowly barbel is pretty far down on his radar, but he was interested when I told him less-spoilt Brit fishermen may not share his views. And bush fishing in Africa where wild animals are your only witness as your ratchet is screaming has serious exotic appeal.

Mark said he could throw in some deep sea stuff into the package as well, which is great, but means I have to come up with a new name … maybe something ‘poetic’ (heh) like Tigers, Tilapias and Tunny.

Anyway, last week I was back home fishing for trout and I asked the lake owner if any of his members would like a real ‘frontier’ fishing experience – and that the biggest expense would be the cost of the airfare.

So maybe a crazy idea I had years ago may still come to fruition.