THE ULTIMATE ANGLING BUCKET LIST

MAURITIUS
When discussing the fishing in South Africa later, I describe it was one of those places I would never
ever go back to. Based on the experiences of a visit during the early 1990's, though for different reasons,
Mauritius is another such venue. A trip which started off so full of hope and anticipation, but failed
miserably on all fronts.
It could be argued that we were just unlucky. Yet when I
speak to other people, it would seem that is not the case.
There are more stories of failure than success coming out
of that place, though I do concede that it probably was once
a fantastic destination, particularly for big marlin.
Those days however are long gone, and not only for the
billfish, which probably makes my experience typical. For
like the infamous dodo which also once thrived there,
decline followed by extinction is a word seemingly woven
into the fabric of this beautiful island.
For those unfamiliar with the place, Mauritius in quite an
isolated deep water Indian Ocean island. One of those
venues where the marlin lures can go out more or less at
the moorings and stand as much chance of success as they
will at any other time during the trip, which these days
unfortunately probably isn't much.
I went across in the company of Graeme Pullen, Tony
Kirrage, and a number of other notable weathered big game
enthusiasts, all expecting at least to see if not catch marlin.
Securing large Hammerhead
Being honest, I did see a couple of small ones being
weighed when we first arrived which stoked the fires of
anticipation even more. But that I'm sorry to say was it.
On our first run out we had what we presume to have been a marlin strike which brought one of the
outriggers tumbling down into the boat. Later in the day, trolling a small skipjack tuna live-bait, Ken
Mitchell landed a hammerhead shark of just over three hundred and thirty pounds. Then the weather set
in.
It was on the evening following that trip that we first started hearing rumours of a cyclone, the Indian
Ocean version of an Atlantic hurricane. Satellites tracking it were predicting it was headed directly for
us, and consequently, the whole island went into shut down.
The fishing boats were secured away inside the storm harbour, and the fronts of the hotels were all
stripped bare, with everything that could be removed stowed away safely in their basements. The airport
was also closed. It was then simply a case of sit and wait.
The TV in the bar was full of nothing else other than tracking the monster rotation. Meanwhile, we
found a bunch of garden canes at the rear of the hotel and decided to organise a fishing competition
from the little wooden jetty using these with pieces of monofilament tied to the end.
What a sight. Journalists, England internationals and the like, all fishing with sticks and lines, which
incredibly did actually manage to come up with a few small fish and produce a winner.
Not content with propping up the bar waiting for the violence to start, a couple of us took a walk along
the beach and found ourselves a local fisherman who said he could safely take us out to fish the protected
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