Angling in India

Sam is one happy angler after landing this stunning Indian Barramundi!  Two similarly sized specimens had previously given him the slip, but this one wasn't so lucky.  With fish stocks along the Indian coast obviously dwindling we try to release all the big fish and it's nice to see other anglers following suit.  Guys that would never have dreamt of releasing a single fish are now practising catch and release.  Hats off to you!!  The future is in our hands so let's try and make it bright. 

 

The last few months, since I arrived in India, have been somewhat special.  The fishing has been well above average and I have also been able to spend some quality time with some very good friends.  It’s been non-stop, so at the moment it’s good to have a short break from fishing.  I don’t say that often but, after three months of solid fishing - often late into the nights - a few days' break is needed before the next foray.  So apologies to you guys that I haven’t been able to meet for a fishing session and let’s hope that some time in the near future we can get together and wet a line.  I’d like to say what a pleasure it was to fish again with Markus, Sam and Jochen, for we shared some very special moments indeed, that won’t be forgotten.  And thanks to Rajat, Abbey and Madhur for your help along the way and also for the great trips we’ve managed so far;  they have been some of the most memorable for me.

 



After kayaking through some difficult conditions, Markus and I take a well earned rest before casting lures at sunset.  A couple of crimson Mangrove Jacks fell to Markus's soft plastics and an unseen monster smashed me to pieces!  Should have gone with the heavier tackle ... but you can't win them all!



Having now spent well over three years in the subcontinent, I still enjoy it as much as the day I arrived around ten years ago.  The novelty hasn’t worn off as it does for some westerners and I wonder intensely where I may go and which fish I will catch in the future.  It still seems I have only just scratched the surface of this great country and, week by week, the list of places that should be visited grows.  Far away from most tourists’ stereotypical views of the country is where we have spent the last months.  Our bedroom has been the deserted beaches of west India with just the sound of the waves and glittering stars for company.  It’s the way I like it and it's part of India that the vast majority of tourists probably don’t even imagine exists. The weather has been perfect, so tents usually haven’t been necessary - just a thin mat to keep the sand at bay and a sleeping bag to complete the sleeping arrangements.  Simplicity like this is often the best way and, to sleep under the gently swaying Casuarinas with a star top view, is without a doubt twenty times better than a five star hotel.  Please do note, though, if leopards are prowling a tent is a welcome addition to the campsite.

 

Sam, Markus and me relaxing by the fire on a deserted Maharashtran beach.  Its's a hard life, I know, but to be fair a few hours previously I had been violently sick so its not always rosy!

When I touched down in Mumbai back in November I had some unfinished business - to track down and land a large Giant Trevally on the Konkan coast.  On previous trips I had come close on numerous occasions, but something was always against me - the big, Konkan GT had always managed to give me the slip.  Nils had landed one of 20 kg back when we kayaked from Mumbai to Goa and Markus had landed a good one approaching that same weight by casting poppers from the rocks.  We know where to find these brutes and were now fully prepared with suitable tackle.  It took a while and, finally, a few weeks ago, this elusive opponent finally lay in my arms;  a monster fish that has been in my dreams for a long time.  I’m just sorry that Markus couldn’t have been there to share the special moment - maybe next time Markus.  More on GTs later…

 

Bombay street food!  A huge variety of tasty snacks awaits the traveller in this mega-city.

To start with I was in desperate need of some screaming runs and a fast fishing fix because the last time a fish actually took more than ten metres of my line must have been back in Australia.  The fishing had been good in the UK, but long, arm-aching fights were definitely not an everyday occurrence.  Saltwater fishing on the coast of India is a different story;  with a little hard work large, hard-fighting lure-eating fish can always be on the cards.  My first love is the Barramundi and it was these handsome, silver fish that I targeted first off.  They require a style of fishing very similar to that of bass fishing in Europe, only the fish are generally much larger with specimens averaging five to seven kilos and better fish around ten kilos often putting in an appearance.

 

A good sized Indian Barramundi caught while spinning.  It gave a memorable fight and reminded  me why this species is such a popular sportfish.

The habits of Indian Barramundi vary somewhat from those of their Australian cousins, but generally, they will take similar patterns of lures and, being an inshore fish, often get neglected by local fisherman through lack of knowledge of the species. So, a healthy population still remains along the Indian coast and, to any keen angler, a good fish is always a possibility.  Indian Barramundi can be found in a variety of habitats, from the large, brackish, coastal river systems where breeding takes place in the monsoon, to the rocky stretches and the numerous surf beaches.  A thinking angler that does some research and uses a little watercraft shouldn’t be too far away from some good fish and, with persistence, will catch when the conditions are right.

 

Markus displays a fine catch.  Another solid fish that tried to jump its way to freedom, but on this occasion the hooks held firm. 

Arriving in Mumbai, not much had changed except that the city is becoming more modern by the day.  General conditions in the city don’t change much and it’s still dirty and highly polluted, but fancy new cars from European manufacturers and adverts extolling the virtues of living in green parks outside the city highlight many Mumbaikers dreams.  It seems the way forward is to encapsulate oneself in luxury which will somehow make living in such a place manageable.  But, at the end of the day, it’s still a prison.  Ridiculous amounts of traffic and a public transport system bursting at the seams puts everyone, regardless of their wealth, in the same boat and moving any distance around the city quickly becomes tiresome, not to mention the vast amounts of time that are wasted.  The city shouldn’t be missed, but sometimes it does seem that the most sensible idea is quickly to book a train and escape south to the beautiful and quiet Konkan coast.

 







Deep in Bombay the population density is pretty high and pollution in every form is  heavy.  It's a city that has many faces and needs to be seen to be believed, but I'm afraid I've seen enough and prefer the peace of the coastline south of this metropolis.







A far cry from the city:  a backwater on the Konkan coast photographed in the light of early morning.

Down on the coast, with the coconut palms swaying in the sea breeze and the waters of the Arabian Sea lapping at golden beaches, the big city already seemed a million miles away.  I stopped first in northern Goa to catch up with old friends and to fish a little in some favourite spots as well as to get some news of the fishing in the area.  The usual clan of strangely dressed western tourists chugged around on old, beaten up Royal Enfields and Honda scooters, whilst the waves of Russian tourists seemed not to have diminished since my last visit.  Northern Goa is changing fast with the influx of the package tourist meaning prices have risen considerably for accommodation and other services. The ‘long termers’ aren’t happy, but at least it gives them something to talk about while they pass the days sitting around drinking chai in the beach side villages.

 

 

In north Goa fishermen use a traditional bamboo rod to fish for small reef fish that live close to the rocks.

At first the fishing wasn’t remarkably successful, but to be fair, being out on the beach under a clear, starry sky on a warm evening was enough.  A fish would have been a bonus - maybe I was still just a little rusty?  Fishing in northern Goa has undoubtedly deteriorated in recent years as more people try their luck in the tried and tested spots although there are still solid fish around, but the effort needed to track them down has certainly risen a good deal.  Timing is critical as is the correct choice of lures. As with many things these days, most people give up if good results don’t come quickly enough, but a few anglers who know differently are still rewarded with good catches.

 

A quiet village road winds through the Casuarina forest in the direction of a small, coastal village. The pace  of life here is slow with most locals looking to the sea for their livelihoods.

A quick trip down to Karnataka state with Abbey and his friends provided the first fish of the trip (see previous post) - a solid Mangrove Jack that took a yo-zuri mag minnow. It was the only fish of the trip, which was surprising because I have rarely fished such a promising place.  As the account opener I would have loved to slip this crimson Jack back into the water, but with six expectant people back at camp, there was only one fate for the fish.

 

Suitable soft plastic lures for west Indian saltwater fishing.  Mangrove Jacks, Barra, Trevally, Flathead and Cod can all be targeted successfully with this selection.

Hiring a scooter back in Goa, I explored the coast and that of Maharashtra fishing hard for the two weeks before Markus and Jochen arrived.  Barramundi were very obliging and I quickly notched up a score of about thirty good specimens, most of which I released.  A few Mangrove Jack and a couple of Flathead also hit the lures, but not in the numbers I hoped for.  Small, soft, plastic shads accounted for most of the fish, but it seemed that the majority of those over ten kilos preferred hard baits such as yo-zuris, bombers and models from lucky craft.  The bigger fish gave some memorable fights and seventy metre-plus initial runs weren’t uncommon.  But, some of the fish preferred to jump rather than run and, as usual, a good number were lost due to thrown hooks. One big fish that chose not to run but jump instead, cleared the water seven times, which was quite a sight in the soft, white moonlight.  Luckily, the hooks held and, after a relatively short fight, it was photographed and released.  The next bite came from another solid Barra, but this one chose to swim for the horizon without a single jump. The fight lasted three times as long as the previous fish, which was actually larger than this one.  After so many good fish I remembered why I was back in India and the best part was that, during this time, I never came across another angler.

 

Fish like this give a great account of themselves, particularly on a light tackle setup.  A light spinning rod with a 4000 sized reel loaded with 10-15lb braid will be suitable if fishing over clean ground. Even with reef present, light tackle can be used because Barra fight relatively cleanly, but the risk, of course, is that a marauding Jack might turn up and play dirty.

With Markus and Sam coming to India, it seemed that a car would be a good idea.  This would give us the chance to transport the sea kayaks around and try some spots that are usually a little inaccessible.  So, a week before Markus arrived I headed back to Mumbai and began the hunt for a suitable vehicle.  At first it seemed a small van would be the way to go and, eventually, a Suzuki Versa turned up which, upon inspection, appeared to be perfect for our requirements.  I had thought about getting

the Omni - the previous model - but the Versa was a much better buy.  For one thing, I could fit in the driver’s seat without having to wrap my legs behind my head!  With his usual helpfulness Rajat went out of his way to help me purchase the vehicle.  Luckily, this went without a hitch and I was soon the proud owner of a silver Versa.  Most of the hard work was out of the way, but the final hurdle was to drive the car out of the city.  Now, anyone who hasn’t been to Mumbai won’t appreciate what an undertaking this is so I was very thankful when Abbey came to the rescue and drove with Markus and me to Goa.

 

Loaded and ready to fish.  Markus and I head out on a fishing trip.

The next few months were an adventure along the beautiful, wild and forested coast of Maharashtra broken with a few pit stops in Goa to refuel with juicy steak and cold beer.  A small beach-side house acted as base station in which to keep our vast collection of fishing paraphernalia whilst we travelled about searching out any fishy spots. Occasionally, we slept in base camp, but usually the beach was more suitable because it meant we could fish late and not have to worry about the long drive home -  not to mention the discomfort of hordes of mosquitoes back at base camp.

 

Another beach, another day and another super camping spot.

Now, with three sea kayaks at our disposal, we often headed out early in the morning to fish likely looking areas close to home.  Fishing from the kayaks has been great with every trip seeing some action on the lures.  Mangrove Jack, small Trevally, Blubber-lipped Snappers and a range of small Groupers have kept us busy and, when nothing bites, the alternative is to snorkel through the beautiful underwater seaweed gardens.  Inquisitive Jacks of impressive size, and curious sea Bream who never stray far from the rocks are always pleasing to see, along with the large Mullet that seem to have an eternal paranoia about being top of the menu.  Big sea turtles frequent these same reefs and occasionally poke their great heads from the water to view the world above making a hasty retreat when they see a kayak floating close by.

 

Casting lures from the sea kayak is a very enjoyable way to spend some hours.  Even if the fish aren't playing ball there is always something to see whether it's a turtle, jumping dolphins or a white bellied sea eagle plucking a sea snake from the water.

Many times we have had the pleasure of passing through a pod of dolphins, sometimes numbering up to thirty or forty individuals.  With no noise of outboard engines to disturb these graceful creatures they remain unoffended and go about their business.  It’s a beautiful thing to sit out on the calm, morning ocean watching a pod silently break the water’s surface as they rise to puff air.  Occasionally one playful individual will jump high above the water and it was on one still morning that Jochen and I had a memorable show.  Not more than fifty metres from where we floated a dolphin suddenly flew high into the air, somersaulting and landing with a crash on the water’s glassy surface.  Twice more it somersaulted in front of its small but very appreciative audience before continuing with the pod.

 

A fine Blubber-lipped Snapper for Sam, which opened his account in the kayak fishing department.  The fish hit the lure hard and tried incredibly hard to find safety in the reef below while Sam expertly played it from above.  With a good angle from above the fish fought in vain, but still gave Sam and his tackle a very good workout. 

Apart from jumping dolphins other sea dwellers sometimes show themselves above the surface.  Flying fish occasionally shoot out beside the boat, extend their wings and zoom off into the distance.  Garfish, without the aid of wings, resort to high speed tail walking when predators threaten.  And, just the other day, quite a large specimen that was fleeing from some danger passed remarkably close to my kayak leaving me to wonder what would happen if this high speed arrow was to connect with an unprotected fisherman.  A few times while out on the yak, large Stingrays have also jumped.  I’d find it hard to believe if I hadn’t seen it numerous times but somehow these hefty creatures fly high into the air and then of course land with a almighty slap on re-entry.  One specimen I saw jumped three times and, again, left me wondering what would happen if the unfortunate kayaker happened to be in the landing zone.

 

Kayaking rest stop with Markus

The beauty of kayak fishing is that in many situations an angler can outfish more conventional, powered boats.  As I have already mentioned, the absence of engine noise is always an advantage, particularly in shallow water when big fish are easily spooked by foreign intrusions. The yaks also make it easy to fish this water.  Shallow reefs, where water depths are sometimes just a foot or two, can be negotiated (with care) whilst rocky coastlines can also be fished more effectively.  Often, the closer one can cast to shore breaks and submerged rocks the more chance there is of getting a hook-up.  And, with a ‘normal’ boat the chance often never exists in the first place.  I must add here that fishing in these areas is by no means for the faint hearted and a good degree of experience must be acquired in a sea kayak before venturing to the more ‘wild water’ as it can be dangerous should you place yourself in the wrong area.  But ,one thing is guaranteed, once this experience is gained and the safety aspects of this discipline are understood, it is hard to find a more perfect way of targeting the saltwater.

 

A solid Mangrove Jack that hit a trolled halco lure in one of the backwaters.

Sam and I ventured out one day on the kayaks in the hope of some rod-bending action, but despite covering all the usually productive areas the fish were very thin on the ground. Sometimes, conditions aren’t right and the best lure placed in the best spot won't tempt even a single bite. The slow fishing was the complete opposite of previous trips so we decided to move a few kilometres south in the hope that whilst we moved the fish would come on the feed.  Along the way we encountered areas of black water - Sardine shoals moving with the tide and, of course, we cast our lures to these patches when we got the chance.  Not being prepared for Spanish Mackerel we had no wire traces and soon Sam found out the hard way when a large, toothy predator sliced through his eighty pound mono trace like butter!  Sam was surprised, but anyone who has seen a Kingfish’s (as they are known locally) teeth will realise that they are not to be messed with.  Superior slicing, razor sharp incisors make short work of Sardines as well as ill-prepared fishermen.  We were, of course, disappointed, but that’s fishing and next time we would be armed more appropriately

.

Markus and a river Jack that hit a heavily weighted soft shad.  With conventional shads we had trouble in reaching where the fish lay, but with this heavy model it was possible.  With the lighter models we attached bullet weights on the trace to get the baits down.  Not a perfect solution but it worked. 

At our destination, fishing was still poor although, using small soft plastics and micro jigs, I managed to pick up a few small fish of a variety of species.  Small Snappers, Cod and Yellow-fin Trevally rescued the day and were fun to catch on the light tackle.  Although on this particular outing we didn’t catch any monsters, we did have one very memorable sight.  Paddling was harder on the way home because the tide and the wind were against us, but after covering about a third of the distance we came across another big shoal of Sardines and, as the millions of fish moved west in a tight ball they gave themselves away by riffling the water’s surface.  As we watched, the shoal suddenly erupted as an unseen hunter smashed into its prey from below.  Sardines flew into the air in every direction whilst others scattered as best they could.  Immediately, two lures flew in the direction of the fleeing fish but nothing connected with the quickly retrieved artificials.  Again and again the Sardines fled for their lives until the harassed fish passed just a few metres in front of the kayaks.  The final attack revealed the reason for their panic;  in the centre of the black patch, the small fish suddenly parted and a shimmering turbo-charged rocket emerged from the water travelling high into the air before dropping and vanishing as quickly as it had come.  Our mouths hung open as we watched the Spanish Mackerel do what it does best - all the while wishing we had a camera pointing in the right direction.  More lures flew into the strike zone but we ended up having to settle for the awesome display we had just witnessed.

 

A New Year's Barra for Markus.  The fish struck when 2013 wasn't even an hour old so it was a dream start to the new year!  Let,s hope the run of good luck continues.

The following weeks saw many more good Barramundi fall for our lures.  New Year’s day was particularly memorable because, after the clock struck midnight, we only had to wait twenty minutes or so  before we caught the first fish of 2013.  I was first to strike silver as a large fish intercepted a small hard-bodied minnow lure.  After a run that saw in the region of a hundred metres of braid vanish from the reel, I felt like I was in heaven.  Everyone has a different way of welcoming in the New Year and for me it couldn’t possibly get any better than standing on a quiet beach surrounded by lapping waves whilst playing a hard-fighting fish.  It wasn’t much later that Markus’ rod also buckled over and another New Year’s Barramundi fought for its freedom.  Again, a searing first run left Markus grinning from ear to ear. Both fish were solid;  mine would have pushed the scales to around ten kilos and the other to seven or eight and both were released hopefully to breed and produce the next generation of this superb sport fish.

 

Sam caught this Flathead on a small soft plastic shad and it is by far the biggest I have seen landed on rod and line in India.  Well done mate!

Trips up and down the coast provided interesting fishing and some good changes of scenery.  With the monsoon rains the Konkan coast is sparkling green and fresh.  The red basalt dust of the dry season is washed away and brown grasslands are transformed into green meadows dotted with colourful wild flowers.  The deciduous forests sing with life that couldn’t be imagined during the dry periods as the inhabitants busy themselves during this bountiful time of the year.  I caught the tail end of this season when the basalt plateaux with their almost not existent patina of soil had started to dry.  Pockets of water still remained to attract various birds in the early morning cool.  Black and Brahminy Kites, along with dull brown Larks, collected to bathe and drink before the day became too hot and, as we passed, hardly a wing was raised.  The grass on these areas had already started to turn golden and the green carpet wouldn’t be seen for another eight months, or so.



As the heat on the Konkan coast builds, water buffalo find respite in cool, muddy pools

The areas we passed whilst travelling to our destinations are often unbroken jungle and scrub forest. Of course, large areas, particularly those near towns and villages, have been cleared for the region’s most famous crop, mangoes, but plenty of land remains more or less untouched and so supports the numerous species of plant and animal for which the estern Ghat region is famous.  On our night-time drives, Indian Foxes, Jackals, Civets, Genets and Hyenas all put in an appearance, plus a few other species that moved too fast to be identified.  It’s hard to know what else makes these areas home, but a few leopards most definitely frequent the areas where we have camped.  Twice now, we have seen fresh spoor whilst exploring in the morning around campsites.  Having recently read an article covering the subject of the number of leopards in relatively heavily populated areas in India, I conclude that the Konkan coast should hold a high number of these animals, particularly with large numbers of suitable prey available.  Locals tell me otherwise but most people rarely venture out after dark and also seem to want to believe what they believe.

 

The rugged coast of western India.  A good variety of species inhabits these areas which keeps the fishing interesting.  For the explorer there is always somewhere new to try. 

 

The Konkan coast is varied and, for the explore,r there is always somewhere new to fish.  Deep water beaches, shallow beaches, broken rocky stretches, solid rocky stretches, seaweed beds, river mouths and back waters are just some of the places that fish can be targeted so, as I’ve mentioned before, an angler is spoilt for choice when it comes to picking a mark to fish.  One of the most enjoyable types of fishing along the coast is with lures over broken rock.  These areas are like magnets to predatory fish because the broken ground is the perfect habitat for their preferred prey of crabs, prawns and small baitfish.  But, many anglers, when presented with this terrain, will shy away declaring that there is no way that they will throw an expensive lure to its certain death.

 

Sam fishes an area of boulders and is rewarded with a multiple catch of Barra and Jacks.  Such areas are often rich  in prey species for predatory fish and shouldn't be ignored.

This is a big mistake and, with experience, they will learn that if the correct lure is chosen some great sport can be had.  Poppers are an obvious first choice, but if there is nothing around that is willing to take one then another choice of lure must be made. With all the submerged rocks, surely any diving lure will become instantly snagged? The answer is to choose a highly buoyant shallow diver and retrieve it very slowly, pausing when contact with a rock is felt thus allowing the lure float to the surface.  Then begin to retrieve again and, in this way, loss of lures will be minimal.  It can be surprising how many fish will dart out from behind a rock to ambush the apparently easy prey passing by so closely.  I’ve had some great sessions fishing like this and, although it takes a lot more concentration than throwing a lure into deeper water, it is a very rewarding fishing technique.  Recently, we fished an area where two choices of water were available:  a deep area off a rocky headland and an area of broken rock and boulders.  Markus and I chose to fish the deep water while Sam flicked lures over the broken rock.  Guess who caught all the fish?  The deep water anglers didn’t even have a bite while Sam bagged up on Barra and Jacks and, by the time we reached the spot, the fish had gone off the bite!

 

Konkan in her full glory.

We fished some pretty wild bits of coast that I had previously earmarked for closer attention whilst kayaking from Mumbai to Goa.  One spot of long, unbroken rock screams big fish, but due to so much good looking water it’s actually quite difficult to pinpoint where the fish might be holding and feeding. Some walking and exploration solved this problem when we found a superb looking bit of water that we judged must surely hold bigger than average fish.  And, having caught juvenile GTs in the area before, I was certain that their mothers and fathers must be swimming around somewhere.  And, if they were anywhere it would be here.  A twist in the coast combined with large, submerged rocks caused the water to churn as the waves broke over the shallow reef.  Perfect conditions for predators to hunt bait fish.  I repeatedly cast a large popper into what I thought was the strike zone, but surprisingly no interest was shown. Meanwhile, Markus, because he wasn't carrying a heavy rod, peppered the submerged rocks with a small rapala x-rap and soon had a nice Bream take the lure.

A superb, isolated camping spot on a rugged coast.  Too hot to fish in the daytime, anglers should save energy and fish from early evening until sunrise.

After ten or fifteen minutes I switched to lighter gear to cast a yo-zuri mag minnow into the white water.  The tackle consisted of a catfish rod, which I doubled with a spheros 8000 and 50lb power pro, so all in all not really light in the scheme of things, but the fish I hooked made the rod seem very inferior indeed.  First cast into the ‘sweet zone’ and a bump, followed by a solid take, was all the indication I needed to sweep the rod back and hook up with a powerful fish.  The rod, which is designed to tussle with large Wels catfish in Europe suddenly seemed very light indeed as the fish surged towards the rocks with strong tail beats.  With the tackle on the limit, I applied as much pressure as possible, all the while hoping everything would hold.  Hooks had been up-rated to owner st66’s so at least that wasn’t too much of a worry, but should the braid touch a rock then the fight would certainly come to a premature end.

 

Casting lures in the setting sun ... the magic time of day when large predators come out to hunt.

Dancing up and down the rocks with the rod bucking I prayed that this wouldn’t be the one that got away. The fight was full power and I knew that if I gave anything at all the fish would have the victory, but, luckily, experience on my part guided the fish through a very gnarly area and soon it was circling below in the deep water.  It still pumped hard and showed that typical characteristic of a good GT:  a definite lack of interest in ever giving up.  But now, with the fish in clear water, things were to my advantage and, if the hooks held, prize would be mine.  With a drop of nearly six feet to the water, landing the fish without damaging it proved to be a little tricky, but Markus did a sterling job. By the time the fish was ready to be landed the hook-hold was looking decidedly dodgy but, amazingly, Markus got hold of the fish and we had achieved our mission - a solid GT.  It wasn't a record, but it was very welcome all the same!  Sam was too late to witness the action, arriving shortly afterwards and, using a homemade bucktail jig, proceeded to catch a lovely Finger Mark that we decided to keep and fry for the evening meal.

 

The GT that really tested my tackle to the limit.  It's not hard to see why this fish has gained such a solid, world-wide following.  Even a fish of this size managed to bend an owner st66 and, for those of you who might not know, that's a very strong hook.  In later weeks we came across some 'proper' GTs which will be included in a coming post.

Before Sam headed back to the UK, we decided that a short road trip was in order to try a little freshwater fishing and to visit the ruins of Hampi in Karnataka.  With two kayaks strapped to the top of the van and fully loaded with camping and fishing equipment we set off across Maharashtra towards the Karanataka border.  Unsure of what fish we might encounter we had packed enough lures and rods to cover all eventualities.  With time on our side and the kayaks on the roof there was no need to rush and we enjoyed the ever-changing landscape. From the coastal belt of coconut palms and cashew groves we followed the winding road through thick forest to the hill station of Amboli. The views from the top of the hills are stunning on a clear day and must be even more breathtaking at the start of the monsoon when the thunder storms roll in from the south. Mostly dry at this time of the year the steep mountain sides are transformed by a multitude of waterfalls when the rains arrives and, of course, landslides are common.

 

The stunning view from Amboli Ghat in southern Maharashtra

On the eastern flank of the Western Ghats, the land falls away more gently than in the west.  Soils are thicker and more fertile and, because of this, the area is more suitable for agriculture.  Soon, the landscape changes from jungle to fields of various crops irrigated by the easterly flowing rivers.  For a fair distance, sugar cane is the crop of choice and tractors, with trailers loaded high with harvested cane, crawl slowly along the narrow roads to the sugar factories.  In the fields, hardened men and women cut the crop by hand in the burning sun. Occasionally, we passed places where jaggery is made - raw sugar boiled and set hard in vats.  A huge wok around eight feet in diameter with fire underneath is filled with cane juice and boiled until most of the liquid has evaporated.  The remaining slush is packed and allowed to set before going on sale in the markets.  It’s hot, hard work - like a lot of jobs in rural India.

 

On a quiet Karnatakan back road looking for a camp spot.  As long as the main highways are avoided, driving in India can often be fairly stress-free.  This is easier said than done, but sometimes, with time, it's possible.

Belgaum was the first major city we reached and it just wasn't what we had expected. The city is larger, cleaner and more organised taht is usual in India, but we didn’t hang around to explore.  We asked directions from a local guy on a motorbike and he kindly guided us through the maze of streets and military areas before warning us of a police speed check on the road ahead. Some fifty kilometres from the city, and after a pleasant drive through more, pretty agricultural areas, we decided to look for a camp site.  Like anywhere in the world, if I have the option of camping rather than staying in a hotel, I'll choose the former.

 

Secluded, quiet campsites are often easy to find despite what many people might say.  Some think it's impossible to travel around the country camping' but we would disagree.  Certainly, if travelling by public transport then it's hardly a viable option, but with your own vehicle and personal tent things become possible.

 

For me, camping will usually be a far more pleasant experience and, on this occasion, it far exceeded what any hotel can offer.  The road we travelled passed through  thick forest and, soon, we spotted a small dirt track which led us to a fine, grassy clearing amongst the bamboo and other trees - perfect for parking the car and pitching two tents.  Wood was plentiful so we soon had a good fire burning and we could lie back and relax in the peaceful surroundings far from India's madding crowd.

 

Kayak fishing deep in the jungles of Karnataka, where tigers and elephants still roam.

The cacophony of birds woke us at just after sunrise and, after coffee, we were back on the road heading towards the river that we intended to fish.  We hoped for Mahseer, but didn’t know what to expect apart from the fact that we would be fishing in beautiful surroundings.  Nearing our destination, the jungle became thick and impenetrable and, winding through this mass of green, was the Kali river.  With its flow checked by the Supa dam, the river below the dam wall has a good, year-round flow which, to any keen angler, looks very inviting.  Rapids, slow & deep stretches and pools provide fish with fish a varied habitat whilst the hard-to-access banks mean there must still be a chance of fish surviving despite the fact that there is little, formal control of fishing activities.  Locals confirmed that big fish inhabited the river, which was a good sign, but as always, fishermen like to talk big.  Plus, any fish that a local happens to get his hands on is usually only going one way and that’s to the cooking pot.

 

The thick jungle forms a beautiful backdrop to the river.  The trees are full of giant Malabar Hornbills, monkeys and giant squirrels.  What a place to fish!

The main species of fish we encountered...a Carnatic Carp?

With the kayaks we would have a fair chance of fishing some good water and we had high hopes of hooking a fish or two and it didn’t take long for Sam to open the account with a small carp-like fish.  From later identification, we think was a Carnatic Carp, but the appearance varies somewhat from the Carnatic Carp we have caught on the River Cauvery so maybe it’s another species.  But, whatever it is, the fight from these small, feisty fish is very pleasing.  Spinners and small, diving hard baits did the trick and after a few days we had notched up a good tally of these pretty animals, but no Mahseer had yet put in an appearance.  All-in-all, though, despite no bigger fish falling to our lures, the incredible surroundings kept us very happy.



Sam and I stop for a rest beneath a giant wild mango tree.

The clear waters and wall-to-wall jungle provided a wonderful backdrop to our fishing forays and the rich birdlife kept us company.  Giant hornbills thrive in the area and give themselves away with a raucous cry and are never far away from some fruiting, jungle tree.  Small flocks of these birds shatter the quiet air with their noisy wing beats as they travel from tree to tree and are a delight to see.

 

Early morning capture on the trusty mepps spinner

Maybe more time is needed to explore the area, but we got the distinct impression that most of the larger fish have long since been caught and eaten.  It’s a great shame because there could hardly be a more perfect place for Mahseer and fishermen alike, but I guess the situation is mirrored many times across India.  Reluctantly, we left the quietness of the jungle and headed east towards the village of Hampi and the old ruins of the capital of the Vijayanagara Empire.  Between these ruins, the breath-taking landscape of granite rock formations and the active temples, the area has become a popular tourist destination and reaching there we could see why.  After dark, following a long drive through some heavy traffic we reached Hampi where, in the main bazaar, we were swamped by touts desperate to give us accommodation.   It was all quite amusing and the reasons why we should pick a certain room flowed thick and fast, but, unfortunately for these try-hards, we planned to camp, so after ten minutes we bid them farewell and went in search of a camp spot.

The stunning landscape around the village of Hampi

With our bearings askew, and no map, we decided to try and get some directions, so we stopped in a car park where two night watchmen were sitting.  Little did we know that we had just run into two of the most useful, but at the same time, useless, guys in the whole area.  Over the next twenty minutes we discovered the two amigos could arrange anything for us and could pretty much do any job going;  well at least they thought they could.  Guiding seemed to be their main profession, but when asked why they were night watchmen only a convoluted reply came about time pass.  After a while, we deduced that their client base must be rather limited because of their extortionate guiding fees and the fact they didn’t seem to know much more than how to drink a Kingfisher beer.   Ten out of ten for effort, though.  Del boy would be proud!



Sam at work!

We awoke to a magnificent view of the surrounding landscape, which, in a way, is very similar to the Cappadocia region of Turkey:  rocks, lush vegetation, birds and plenty of water.  A complete contrast to some of the areas we had passed through on the way to Hampi, which were dry and featureless plains inhabited by forlorn looking people.  Here, people seemed happier and banana and sugarcane plantations sprouted from any flat areas.  Between these, the boulder-strewn landscape dominates and is home to sloth bears and leopards. Through the centre of the town flows the Tungabhadra River and, somewhere, we thought we might catch a fish.  Again, stories of monster fish were rife, but upon seeing the river, criss-crossed with nets, we soon lost interest and settled for a paddle in the kayaks instead.

 

A peaceful paddle on the Tungrabhadra River started off well, but deteriorated  as the local  coracle owners chased us down the river begging to have a go in the yaks.  Funny how a few hours earlier they wanted to charge us hundreds of rupees for a poxy coracle ride, but now the tables had turned.  One restaurant owner even demanded money for a boating licence payable to the government of India!  Much to his dismay, we could, of course, only laugh at his preposterous demands.  And guess what?  This sly hoodwinker also turned up to try and blag a ride in the kayaks, but unforunately for him and his mates, due to safety issues concerning wild whirlpools in the river, we had to refuse them.

We spent a  few days exploring the ruins, climbing the rocky hills, chatting with friendly rickshaw drivers and trying to avoid the fake holy men that spent their time conning dumb tourists out of large amounts of rupees.  We found it quite amazing that an ordinary guy can put on some colourful clothes and, in exchange for a photo, expect the equivalent of what someone might get paid for two days of hard work. But, luckily for these guys, the stupidity of tourists is well known and, judging by their ‘gift books’, it’s a pretty profitable profession.  I’m not quite sure what the gods think of their business activities, but I’m sure a quick puja in the morning will alleviate them of their sins.  After exposing them and telling them to p*** off they avoided us like the plague ,which suited us just fine.

 

A fully blown religious criminal!  Yes, it will be a pleasure to take your photo as you asked so nicely and, yes, of course I will write my name in your little book, but, no, I will not give you a gift of a few hundred rupees for dressing up in brightly coloured clothes and painting your face red and white.  Thankfully for you, many suckers will give you money so keep up the good work and hope karma doesn't come and bite you in the (censored) one day.

We spent the nights camped in the surrounding hills, which was perfect because we were up early and sunrise is perhaps the most beautiful time to be out in this area.  One night, we had set the tents in a pleasant spot among the boulders and, after a relaxing evening, slept well.  At least, I did!  Some time in the early hours of the morning Sam awoke with a start, but was unsure what had caused this.. Silence reigned outside, nothing stirred and, being inside the tent, there was no way for him to see if some danger lurked close by.  Lying dead still he listened for any sound that might reveal the reason he had woken.  A few minutes passed and the only noise came from crickets chirping their night time song.  All else was quiet and so he started to relax.  Suddenly, loud and deep bellow rang out a few metres behind his tent.  Stiff as a board and hardly breathing in case he might be heard, he tried to tell himself the noise wasn't a big leopard sitting there staring at the foreign object invading its space, but of course, he knew it was.  Buffalo were all safely penned up for the night, so it ruled them out, leaving only a leopard or a bear as the suspect.

 

The scene of the leopard encounter.  Unfortunately Sam (blue tent) camped on the 'wrong' side of the campsite!!

Dead still, and listening to every small sound that came from that direction, Sam waited, hoping that he wouldn't hear sniffing outside his tent wall.  After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably just a minute or two, the heart-stopping call came again, but luckily, this time, from a little farther away.  After a few more minutes the animal called again and had moved further still, so the panic-stricken camper started to relax a little. What happened next shocked Sam back into his plank-like state, because, when the Leopard called again, it had moved back much closer to his tent.  Thinking his luck was running low, various options and outcomes of the situation were flying through Sam's head, but, of course, there was no chance for an escape - he could only keep quiet as he could and see what happened.  Much to his relief, the next deep-throated call rang out a good distance away from the tents;  the cat was moving away again and, slowly, its rumbling call died away into the still night leaving the crickets alone to carry on their song.

Idli (rice cakes) and deep fried chilies in a coconut sauce for breakfast!  Yum!

Sam recounted this story in the morning and I was most surprised not to have woken because I'm usually a light sleeper.  But I wasn't a bit surprised about what had happened and I confirmed that the call was that of a leopard and we soon we located the spoor of the big cat passing up the sandy track close to the tents.  On this occasion we had put up the tents for the very reason of prowling animals and so were of our actions.  I’m sure we would have been fine sleeping in the open, but had Sam not been blinded by the tent, the chance of him having to wash his underwear would have risen considerably!

 

The Hampi landscape.  Note the van on the road to the right.