by Nic Orfang

The Lower Zambezi is said to be one of the top tiger fishing spots in Africa, so with this in mind Alison and I headed down there to see if we could substantiate the rumour. Now I should probably get this out of the way right at the beginning - I am no fisherman and neither is Alison. I never have been, never thought I would be.

Still, I was excited because the Lower Zambezi National Park is an excellent game-viewing destination. The prospect of floating down the river watching pods of hippos laze about, while elephants and buffalo roamed a few metres away, seemed more exciting than fishing anyway.

Flying for tigers

Upon our arrival we were greeted at the bush airstrip, a flattish piece of mud in the park, by Kevin, the lodge manager at Kulefu Tented Camp and fishing guru. The flight in had been an experience in itself. Four of us were flown from Lusaka in a Cessna 206. The other two guys had all their fishing gear and there seemed to be some sort of consternation about whether their rods would fit into the plane without inconveniencing Alison and me.

Not yet realising just how small our plane was, I gallantly volunteered the idea of leaving the rods in the aisle. The air hostess would just have to tread carefully when she brought me my beer and snacks - problem solved. Or so I thought.

The Cessna 206

A Cessna 206, as I was a few seconds away from discovering, is a tiny little six-seater aircraft. It has no aisle, and no air hostess. I say six-seater in much the same way as they describe 4-man dome tents - they lie. It's always amazed me how a 4-man tent can barely fit in two people and a rucksack and this little aircraft was no different. It had six seats, that much was true, but how six people would fit into those seats is a question I will be forever pondering.

Luckily there were only five of us. I was stowed away in the tail, on the back seat amid a mass of luggage, where I was, to my horror, sitting with my bum only couple of inches above the airstrip. Our two new companions had the middle seats while Alison got lucky and sat up front with the pilot.

After a few warnings about keeping the door locked and, more importantly, about Alison not pushing the foot pedals, or clinging onto the flight stick in front of her in a moment of panic, the pilot went on to explain why we might panic.

It seemed the oil cap had a habit of flicking up like a gun sight on the nose of the plane but, he happily assured us, the mechanic had told him it wouldn't come loose and smash through the windscreen, prematurely ending our flight.

Another in-flight issue we might encounter would be the rapid blinking of the stall light, followed by a loud whooping sound. This too, he assured us, wasn't a problem. Just a minor repercussion of the turbulence we could expect as we flew over the mountains.

Adding to this the fact that above his gauges was a sign saying "Indication not True" and I began to wonder if I would be getting the chance to fish after all.

Lower Zambezi National Park

With the flight over and my t-shirt soaked through, Kevin supplied us with cold, calming beers and we set off through the park to our home for the next two nights.

Within minutes we had already seen a wide variety of animals. The park has high concentrations of game and the drive into the camp was the perfect way to help me forget the previous thirty minutes of my life. Kevin chatted the whole way and I began to feel a little more positive about my chances of landing a tiger fish.

Tiger fish

Before I go on to describe our first fishing expedition, I should probably explain a bit about the sport of tiger fishing. Tiger fish are reputed to be the fiercest of the freshwater game fish. Legendary for putting up a fight, they are highly prized trophies. Since the Lower Zambezi is a catch and release river, photographs and stories are all the proof you take home.

Tiger fish feed on whatever prey is most abundant. They have large sharp teeth, reminiscent of sharks' teeth, and prefer deep water. Tigers grow to lengths of up to 105cm and from what I could gather, a respectable size to catch is around 5 kilograms (about 10 pounds).

The best time of the year for tigers is between February and March. Between October and December is another good fishing season, depending on the rains. The best time of day to catch tigers is in the early morning and late afternoon.

Beer for the gods

Peter was going to be our guide for our first trip. The day was perfect for fishing. It was a scorching 40 something degrees celsius (104 degrees fahrenheit) without a breath of wind. Before you can go tiger hunting, you first need to catch some bait, so we hopped onto the boat and motored to where the bait fish lived.

One of the most important aspects of a successful fishing trip on the Zambezi is beer. Without beer you can't catch fish. While this may be wonderful news for some of us, it probably doesn't sound like good news for any teetotallers out there. But the thing is, you don't actually have to drink it.

Alison and I tried our luck, sans beers, for the first part of the afternoon, and kept coming up empty handed. Starting to feel a little despondent, I reached into the cooler and pulled out two ice cold lagers.

We had been out on a sunset cruise with Kevin the previous evening and I had noticed that before he took his first sip he poured some of his beer into the river. Putting two and two together, and wanting to get into the spirit of things, I poured a generous sip into the water and said a silent hello to the Nyaminyami, the Zambezi river god.

Not even a minute later Alison had a chaser fish on the line. No sooner had she reeled hers in than I had one on mine. Peter took the fish off our lines and sliced them up into tasty morsels for the tigers. Now we were ready to begin game fishing.

Pure luck

Peter's secret spot wasn't too far from where we had just been so we weaved our way through the hippos and got into position. Now I've heard all the tall tales about how good certain people are at fishing, and I've never believed them. To me fishing is about luck - pure and simple.

It's like playing cards. Sure you can be better at poker or blackjack than me, but no matter how experienced you are there will always come a time when I'll beat you, when all your experience counts for nothing, because I got lucky. This was going to be one of those times.

Fully into the swing of fishing, Alison and I cracked open more beers, liberally poured them into the river, and cast our freshly baited hooks. To be honest, at this stage I still wasn't expecting too much to happen, but I had my beer and I was bronzing in the sun watching hippos so…

Tiger strike

Almost too quickly I felt a tug on my line and yanked my rod back hard in a strike that, if I had hooked the poor fish, would've probably turned it inside out. Luckily this guy had the presence of mind to let go and swim another day.

With my interest piqued I took another swig of my fast-warming beer and flung my hook out into the depths once more. This time the tug wasn't so light, and when I struck I felt the hook bite deeply.

They say that tigers put up a good fight. For once the fisherman weren't telling stories. My rod bent double and Peter started yelling,

"Play with it! Let it run! Keep the tension! Feed it some more line!"

Fishing lingo came flying at me as I desperately tried to comprehend how you play with a fish that's 20 feet away from the boat, and if I did manage to figure that out, would the fish be enjoying the game as much as I was?

Tiger on board

Suddenly I got my first glimpse of the fish. It was huge and all my manly instincts kicked into overdrive. I played with it. I let it run. I fed it as much line as it needed, and finally I landed a 10 kilogram tiger fish.

It was the biggest Peter had seen in over two months. More than a little impressed I mustered up the courage to hold the fish for the photos, puffed my chest out and posed proudly. I was a man - for about three minutes.

Three joyous minutes until Alison gave a little yelp and started dancing around the boat, bent rod in hand, her wild eyes desperately seeking Peter.

Screams of "What must I do?" permeated the air as she bravely hung on to what both Peter and I could see was a monster. After a few more laps of the boat Alison managed to land an even bigger fish than mine. I felt my chest deflate as I realised that I too would now have to start spinning yarns if I were to stay on top.

"Nice fish, Al", I said with the patronising tone of a master fisherman, "really good for your first time hey".

I looked at Peter imploring him to say something, anything that would keep my fish bigger. We were men. She couldn't even cast. But Peter couldn't do it, and in the end neither could I. Alison had just caught the biggest tiger fish ever and she deserved her credit.

Tall tales

By the time we got back to shore the sun had set, the beers were finished and the size of the fish didn't seem as important as it had in the boat. At least that's what I kept telling myself as I stared through the bottom of yet another empty bottle. There would be more trips, bigger fish and bigger stories to tell. It had been a great day, one I would remember forever.

I might remember it slightly differently, I might even convince myself that my fish was the biggest, but that isn't important. What I would really remember would be how much fun I had, and how badly I want to go back and try again.

Article © Copyright 2005 Go2Africa.

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