Join our Mailing List:

Enquire Here:

Fishing report season opening October 2009: by Vaughn Driessel

I remember the first time I ever fished St. Francois lagoon with Andy Coetzee. I couldn’t believe how good it was and wondered if fishing could get any better anywhere else in the world. I admit my naivety and have since discovered new places and heard many tales of extraordinary fish being caught in places of the world so remote they are only visited by fisherman, but the truth is every year I return to Alphonse and the St. Francois lagoon, I rediscover a fishery that far surpasses the one I first fished 8 years ago.

The reason for this is simply conservation. A policy applied during my early days on Alphonse which, in brief, excluded any spin fishing, teasing, chumming and a no kill policy on any fly caught species taken whilst sport fishing around the island. Today the island is proud to be an exclusive “fly only” destination, offering no other form of fishing. It is this policy that has seen the fishery grow in strength.

During my first week of guide training i had noticed a large number of oversized Giant Trevally cruising the reef edges and lagoon flats. This became more apparent during the second week when many more of these fish were seen by all the guides and while most of them were out of range the biggest landed was 112cm (65lbs). I had an opportunity to cast at a pair of cruising fish over 100lbs. Both fish were keen to eat but I couldn’t get my fly to stick in a mouth resembling that of a 5 liter bucket.  So the GT’s are on, load your 12wt and make sure your flies are tied on good hooks. Last years record was a fish of 135cm (120lbs), I have seen bigger and believe that record will be broken this season.

St. Francois bonefishing let no-one down with all anglers enjoying their daily fill and eventually seeking one of the many other species on fly. Fish of up to 8lbs were taken and of particular mention were the fish in the cosmic lagoon of St. Francois Island during the early morning high tide. Tailing in the shallows up against the island created the perfect setup for classic bonefishing. Most guests averaged 15 fish per day eventually becoming choosey and taking the more challenging fish. A good rod could easily have taken 40 fish if bonefish is all that drives you but on Alphonse the myriad of species includes over 50 different types of fish taken on a fly and this is what makes the fishery the most unique in the world.  

The early season winds were still blowing so going outside the reef in search of Milkfish was challenging. We did however have one day when the weather was calm and since it was supposed to be my rest day, I decided to get out there and do some fishing of my own. Loaded with a skiff, trainee guide and a quiver of rods, we headed outside the reef in search of chanos chanos. It wasn’t long before Andrew (trainee guide) was practising his boat manoeuvring skills with a hooked milkfish melting the backing from my Abel Super 10. After 30 minutes the fish had towed us 1km offshore and had 150meters of backing straight down. Andrew eventually sunk the net under the fish after 55 minutes, I was exhausted but fortunate to have another of these trophies to hand. We estimated the fishes weight at 30lbs before a few quick pictures and a good release.

So the scene was set, I had by 10am jumped 3 milks, landed one and with the low tide eminent, I started thinking about a GT and a bonefish to complete the slam. We headed into the lagoon, found a good looking flat with the water pouring on and set up for a lunch/GT steak out. Not much happened in the hour we took to eat a leisurely lunch so we pulled anchor and drifted up the flat with the tide. It wasn’t long before a ray was spotted with three shapes on its back. Usually these would be GT’s but on closer inspection we found 3 big Permit (African Pompano) feeding off the back of the mudding stingray. I pulled the 8wt, changed leaders to 12 lb. Fluorocarbon a “suitable” fly. “Suitable” because what is really suitable for permit?? 3 charlies and 2 crabs later, I finally settled on a pearl Charlie with two clear rubber legs and a pink thread nose – bang onto the fish of a lifetime. After an unbelievable fight Andrew came to the rescue with the net once again and cautiously netted an 18lb. Permit, my biggest on St. Francois to date.

To complete the slam, we headed for the island shoreline and quickly subdued an average bonefish. We didn’t know what to call this slam as I don’t recall anyone slamming on a Milkfish, Permit and Bonefish, any suggestions? 

Tight lines 

Vaughn Driessel. 

---------------------------------------------------------- 

GRAND SLAM - ST. FRANCOIS STYLE!       by Roddy Hall

 Although Milkfish have been around as long as any other fish that swims in the Indian Ocean, it has only recently become a target species for the fly fisherman. This is not due to their rarity, but more to their unusual feeding habits. While it is normal to spot them on the flats, looking for a few seconds, to the uninitiated, like very large bonefish, the time to catch them is when they feed on green algae in deeper channels or even in the blue water. These large, immensely powerful, fish swim in circles following each other’s tails with their mouths open (called daisy-chaining), randomly sweeping up and filtering algae that is in or just below the surface film.

Amazing through it seems, if you manage to cast your fly (an imitation of a small piece of algae) in front of one of these fish while it cruises in circles open-mouthed, and you keep your fly high enough in the water, at some stage everything will tighten up, although there will have been no discernable take. Then you need to be in, or close to, a boat as the blistering runs of milkfish that may be twenty or thirty pounds can only be compared with fish many times their size. These fish are what large arbour reels with ridiculous amounts of backing are made for.

The other thing to mention is that because this is such a different type of fishing, you will not believe you can hook one of these fish until you first do; then you will not think you can land it. 

Recently I put all this into practice while fishing at Alphonse with Vaughn Driessel. To my enormous surprise, I managed to hook a good sized milkfish, my first ever, and during the initial couple of blistering runs everything held together from the backing knot to the hook hold and I started to feel quietly confident. Then I realised that my backing was jammed and even through the fish had spent fifteen minutes fighting extremely hard it still had plenty in the tank and the next run was prematurely halted as everything stretched and the hook pulled out.

And now the story starts getting interesting because in that eternally optimistic way all fishermen have, even through I knew I could not be lucky enough to hook another one, I continued fishing. Then I actually did hook another, and this time I even managed to land it. It was a little smaller at around 15lbs but was still an immensely powerful fish that tested my 10 weight outfit to it’s limits. At this stage I was both relieved and very satisfied; I had broken a run of losing very good fish that had started two days earlier with a monster Giant Trevally that would have been a fish of a lifetime. However, Vaughn suggested that shortly we should move into the shallower water of the surf line as the tide started to come in and hunt for GTs, with the aim of trying to get a Grand Slam.

A Grand Slam in the Seychelles, a GT, a Milkfish and a Bonefish, is a rare but feasible feat that means a lot of things have to go your way over the period of the fishing day, from things as unalterable as the tides down to how well you take a cast at the vital moment. Of course for the fisherman having a guide who knows what he is doing is of paramount importance, everything from insider knowledge of where fish may be to a pair of expert eyes scanning the flats for fish that are identified and rejected before you have even seen anything.

We cruised slowly in the skiff, in two or three feet of water with the motor ticking over gently, looking for clues, sharks, rays moving through the flats or surf line as the tide came in, or the sudden splashes and roiling of the water that meant a predator was hunting. Three pairs of eyes squinted against the water trying to make sense of shapes in the moving wate

Suddenly Vaughn had spotted a shark with several GT’s following it, heading in with the breakers towards us at some speed. Several of these fish were very large, 50lbs plus, too large to think about landing in the environment we were in. There is no selection of individual fish, just frenetic movement to get some fly-line out to start working the stiff 12 weight rod, to achieve enough momentum in the line to cut into the breeze coming in from the sea. Delicacy is not an issue; the fish are super aggressive and will turn towards a splash or movement close to them. And that is what happened as my large purple fly landed in front of a group of fish varying from about 15lbs to 50lbs, and I started to strip and realised the difficultly involved in keeping a fly moving fast enough for these fish when the fly line is nearly back in the end ring. Just as I had to either leave the fly static or pull it from the water to re-cast a fish of around 30lbs shouldered its way through some others, engulfed the fly and with very little fuss turned away from the skiff and headed straight out to the wreck of a tuna boat which had been rotting on the reef about 200 metres from us. 

These fish fight very hard. A 12 weight, nine-foot fly rod seems quite a powerful tool until you have an angry GT on the other end trying to break you off on some coral while you steer it in the other direction. The fish is utterly in charge for the first part of the fight, for ten or even fifteen minutes you just try and keep the pressure on and retrieve what line you can between runs. Then there is a shift in power as the fish tires and this is the time to give no quarter as slowly you see the backing knot come in the top ring of the rod and the possibility of landing the fish becomes closer to reality. This predator that had become prey, after several blistering runs into the surf when I thought I would surely lose it, was suddenly mine. Vaughn tailed it and I virtually collapsed. After I few photos I sat in the water holding the fish until it had regained it’s strength, what a privilege it was to be so close to such an amazing creature.

If you have been to Alphonse or even read about it you will know that it is famed for its schools of thousands of bonefish. Bonefish that cruise white sand flats, easy to see for the fisherman and often fairly straightforward to catch too. The last part of the grand Slam should have been the easy one, and that is how we played it. No hurry now that the milkfish and the GT had been accounted for. We had a slow lunch in the oppressive heat and then made our way to one of the famous flats. An hour before the end of the fishing day to catch one bonefish. Easy.

Back to the ‘Boneyard ‘ > )))))*>

St. Francois Atoll – February 2008...

I once again had the pleasure of returning to Alphonse with a group of guests, many of whom I knew from previous years whilst managing Alphonse Island Fishing Company. It brought back awesome memories and gave us all the opportunity to create new ones.

As per usually the pre trip jitters had set in and I wondered whether the 12 dozen bonefish flies or equivalent quantity GT flies I had packed would be enough, who was I kidding, I was only going for a week.

Many of the guests had previous experience fishing bonefish flats of either the Bahamas or similar destinations around the world and were keen to get a taste of the St. Francois Bones. The week started out with a waning full moon, allowing us to venture out onto the reef just after lunch. The morning session had been entertaining with large quantities of bonefish pouring off the flats with the dropping tide and so far the impression St. Francois had given certainly lived up to her reputation.

Five of us decided to venture out to a small cut that runs the reef called Rattrays. Here, the bonefish filter onto the flats during the first stages of the pushing tide allowing anglers the perfect ambush. I left the guests and guides tackling bones whilst I walked onto the fringes of the reef to look for a Giant Trevally and behold, I hadn’t gone further that 25 yards and there he was, surfing the clean face of a wave toward me and in close already. I loaded up the 12 and on the second false cast the rod folded in my hand making what used to be a 4 piece the new compact 6 piece that doesn’t quite load as well. End of Trevally fishing and back to the flats a little annoyed as I hadn’t brought a spare 12wt. I grabbed my camera and waded to the guests who by now had stretched their fighting arms by at least an extra inch after fighting ridiculous amounts of bonefish. Our return to Alphonse that evening traced stories of 20 bonefish per angler, one extra large Barracuda landed on a 12 weight that was estimated at around 70lbs, and a host of stories that continued well into the evening.

The days that continued had me thinking back to when I first set foot on St. Francois and was amazed by the sheer numbers of bonefish. I asked myself if I honestly thought the numbers had depleted, while I walked amoungst what had to be hundreds of bonefish scattered in small groups within a hundred yard radius. My answer was probably bias so I decided to ask the guides who had been with me over the past six years. All of them agreed that whilst they had been there, they had not seen a decline in neither numbers nor average size. This was apparent as the week progressed and the bonefishing became better. Most of our lady anglers had fish of between 26 and 28 inches 6-8 lbs. While the men couldn’t quite match their size fish they made up for in numbers with our best rod day at around 40 fish but admitting that he had lost count at around 25 fish. Other notable species for the week included both Moustache and Yellow Margin Triggerfish, a milkfish of 15 lbs caught on the flats without the assistance of a boat and a few incidences with the kings of the flats the mighty GT’s. 

The fishery at Alphonse and St. Francois continues to grow mainly due to the ongoing conservation ethics of the guides and staff on the island. I am sure that what you learn whilst fishing with us will benefit you and those who you fish with in the future, ultimately ensuring a healthier fishing environment for all.

For any further information regarding the fishery or questions, please do not hesitate to contact me at vaughn@flyfishseychelles.com

Wishing you tight loops

Vaughn and the FFS team.