ASTOVE ATOLL: Fly Fishing for the Masters of Destruction PART 1

The Seychelles, in the western reaches of the Indian Ocean – not too far away from Madagascar, have fast become the GT epicentre of the world. And Astove Atoll is THE place to catch a monster GT on the flats.

By: RASMUS OVESEN Photos by: RASMUS OVESEN, MARTIN EJLER OLSEN, MATT HARRIS and KYLE REED

Giant Trevally are very accustomed to the wrenching noise of things shattering and breaking. They have powerful and jagged jaws; they pack a nasty and lightning quick bite; and they delight in crushing whatever pitiful prey they manage to hunt down, whether it be a bony baitfish, a hard-shelled crab or even a non-suspecting bird with feathers, beak and all.

“They have powerful and jagged jaws; they pack a nasty and lightning quick bite”

They hit such things like freight trains - with blind fury and explosive impact, churning them into bits and pieces. And, as a result, the sounds of death and destruction frequently echo through their cranial cavities and straight into whatever primitive minds that have sparked inside their powerful and sturdy frames. As a GT fly fisherman, one is also destined to get accustomed to - or at least become uncannily familiar with – various sounds of destruction. GT’s are notorious for wrecking tackle, and after a recent week of GT fishing in the Seychelles – at the stunningly beautiful and wild Astove Atoll, the sounds of rods, fly lines and leaders breaking have become painfully etched into my mind.

Along with the repeated knife slashlike sounds of GTs cutting through the surface - backs and serrated fins clear out of the water – in hot pursuit, and the inevitable collision-like eruptions as they would thrust themselves forward, opening their bucket-sized mouths and thunderously inhaling our flies – completely demolishing them in the process, with hooks getting bent out of shape, foam being shredded and ripped into pieces, feathers and fibres scattered all about…

Well, the cacophony of it all is enough to send shivers down my spine as I sit here putting symbolic pen to paper.

Additionally, there was that freak incident where the guide – who shall remain nameless – grabbed the leader on a big fish that was close to the boat and in danger of getting snatched by a huge oceanic whitetip shark. His finger got pierced by the top section of the fly rod, as the fish took violently off. Apparently, the leader knot had gotten caught in the rod tip, and as the fish surged downwards, the top of the fly rod followed the directional path of the leader – straight into the guides hand, snapping loudly and ultimately piercing his finger, full blank, splintered carbon fibre shrapnel and all.

There was also that incident where a colossal GT hit the fly right below the lava cliffs to the far south of the atoll. This fish violently erupted on the fly the very instant it hit the water – as if it somehow already knew that something was going to fall from the sky – and, once hooked, it took off like a bullet along the jagged, corally shoreline demolishing the whole fly line and ultimately snapping the 120lb test leader. Even in the howling winds the whiplash-sound of that leader snapping was loud enough to stun- and stop us dead in our tracks.

Sadly, there was also that incident where an otherwise perfect interception of a massive, jetblack 70-80lb GT in meter-high surf swells followed by a 25meter+ cast into strong headwinds resulted in a take so brutal that the whole fly line snapped on the strip-set. That fish was to die for, but then again: Had the fly line not snapped on the strip-set, it might very well have surged towards the corally reef edge and broken me off there. Either way, that whole episode was accompanied by the deafeningly quiet sound of my heart breaking.

During the course of six full fishing days at Astove Atoll, my good friend Martin Ejler Olsen and I experienced some of the most exhilarating and nerve-wracking GT fishing imaginable. Reminiscing about the trip, I must admit that I’m still pretty shellshocked and mind-blown about the amount of fish we encountered and how unpredictable, erratic and (at times) super-aggressive these fish were.

I sometimes find myself struggling to keep my composure during an all-important fight, or when a momentous sight-casting opportunity presents itself. But I’ve never shaken to the core – with such a boiling mixture of adrenaline, excitement and sheer, panicky fear raging inside my body – as I have when fishing Astove Atoll.

Wading and scouting for GTs there along the corally reefs, roaring surf lines, and jagged lava cliffs is terrifying in an of itself. Casting for one - knowing that you probably just get that one cast before the fish suddenly vanishes again – only adds to the excitement of it all.

Ultimately, however, it is the take that renders one a trembling nerve wreck. It is, by all means, truly frightening! Once fired-up and zeroed in for the kill, the Astove GTs will attack with such fury and brutality that one’s first impulse is to quickly dispose of the fly rod and jump out of the water.

If that impulse is foolishly ignored and one counter-intuitively responds to the explosive collision by strip-setting the hook, one is in for a gruelling fight; a fight that will stress one’s tackle and physics to breaking point, and too often result in a harrowing snapping sound.

“Ultimately, however, it is the take that renders one a trembling nerve wreck. It is, by all means, truly frightening”

Despite challenging conditions with heavy winds, cloud cover, rain and periodical thunder during most of the week – something very atypical for Astove Atoll, I managed to land 17 GTs, and had I been more stoic, calm and – perhaps – endowed with a little more luck, I might have landed well over 25. And as if that wasn’t enough, Martin and I also managed to squeeze in some absolutely outrageous bonefish-, triggerfish-, and permit fishing. Not to mention an afternoon offshore, where schools of huge barracuda, rainbow runners, milkfish and sailfish kept us busy.

The real monsters – like the fiery-tempered 70-80lb GT that broke my fly line, the massive black one that snapped a 110lb leader on the corals, and the sharklike 120lb+ behemoth that rejected my fly (and broke my dreams), ultimately evaded me.

But there was one thing that these fish couldn’t break – my spirit. And I have absolutely no doubt in my mind: I will be back in search for Astove Atoll’s indomitable and raging apex predators – the masters of destruction.

Read pt II in the next edition of In the Loop Magazine…

Fact File – Lodging

Astove Atoll caters to an exclusive six fly fishermen per week, and the season extends from November to December and March to April. The newly renovated lodge offers full-catering service, exquisite Creole cuisine, and accommodation in single air-conditioned ensuite rooms.

If you’re interested in booking a trip to Astove Atoll, or some of the other renowned Alphonse Fishing Co destinations in the Seychelles – including Cosmoledo, Alphonse Island and Poivre, send an email to: reservations2@alphonsefishingco.com

For further information, be sure to check out these links: http://www.alphonsefishingco.com http://www.seychelles.travel/

Fact file – Transport and logistics

The transportation to Astove Island is usually via Dubai to Mahé and Seychelles International Airport. Here, Emirates is an obvious choice, seeing as they have regular flights with appropriate arrival times in relation to the journey onwards: http://www.emirates.com

The plane to Astove Atoll leaves early in the morning, and as a result you’ll need an overnight stay in Mahé. We found Eden Bleu, which is close to the airport, to be very charming, comfortable and relaxing. Eden Island offers beautiful, newly-built apartments, maisons, and villas situated on its own gated island with ambient marinas, cosy cafes, a shopping center, and a view to the ocean along with pearly white, palm-ridden sand beaches. When time permits, Eden Island is also a great starting point for discovering Mahé, the Seychellois capital. For more information, please check: http://www.edenbleu.com

For transportation services to and from the airport, logistics or tourism requests, Creole Travel Services is your point of reference: http://www.creoletravelservices.com

You’ll continue your journey to Astove Atoll on a 3-hour IDC flight arranged by Alphonse Fishing Co. It departs from the IDC Hangar outside the International Airport, and getting there involves a five-10-20minute taxi-ride.

Depending on your itinerary, you might experience a good deal of layover in Dubai International Airport on your way back, and it might therefore be a good idea to get some rest in the Dubai International Airport Hotel, which is conveniently located inside the departure terminal: https://www.dubaiintlhotels.com/