There are times when a bloke feels he needs a holiday somewhere warm and sunny like down here behind the Kariba Dam wall —
To think that I fished for Tiger fish down here in the gorge below the dam almost fifty years ago – and water skied in the 173 miles long by 48 miles wide holding area above the dam back then. When I went looking for a photo to use in this post I found reports that the dam wall is in danger of collapse due to the plunge pool where the white water lands eroding and under-cutting the integrity of the whole wall.
All that water stored up behind has got to go somewhere and it is reckoned that 3.5 million souls could or would perish in the floodpath – I almost wish I hadn’t gone looking for that photo. The biggest danger to life back then were from rocks falling from the tunnel roofs as we constructed the North Bank Power Station after the dam had filled – from crocodiles while fishing from the bank in the gorge below and from the most dangerous wild animal in the whole of Africa – the flotillas of hippo in the still waters of Lake Kariba. The clear waters allow you to see the hippos ‘running’ at speed along the lake floor and their favourite food is the fibreglass boat.
Changed days – there is talk of a barrage complete with tidal powered turbines being placed here at home in Cuan Sound where I fished in the rain this afternoon. Judging by the amount of water that rushes through here at the ebb and flow of the tides there should be enough current to drive the things and give enough power to boil my kettle.
Well I enjoyed being out there in the fresh air – just as well for it won’t be fish for tea although I’m told the mackerel and occasional sea bream are running. The only thing I saw move in the water besides the kelp swaying in the currents was a lively seal which popped up next to me and gave me the eye for a while before the ebbing tide swept it onwards.
I won’t blame the seal altogether for today’s lack of fish – it was most likely down to my motley collection of tackle. I picked up my reggae beach bag in Jamaica several years ago and it now carries my growing collection of line spools – hooks – lures and other nameless things that don’t get chucked away until the smell becomes too much for the faint-hearted —
Back in the day when I fished in the Zambezi I carried a two piece twelve foot beachcaster everywhere I went.- it would hardly be worth the trouble getting it through security at airports now – changed days indeed. My lightweight 5 piece spinning rod which I came across in a tackle shop in Dumfries may not lob a lump of lead very far but it is much easier to live with.
Nope – I could blame my tools but I won’t – it was more than likely the local otter group that had beat me to it —
Judging by the many otter ‘poo’ piles I encountered not very far from the water’s edge as I trudged forlornly up the bank fishless on my way home they were a darn sight better at catching fish than I am —
They were all over the bank – some tidy —
and some just squirted out any old how —
Thanks to the seal and shitty otters frightening the Cuan Sound fish, I had more success at Kariba hunting Tiger Fish —
and that’s not me holding the thing – I’ve got more respect for my fingers than to put them anywhere near those teeth 🙂