Like a golden fireball, the late afternoon sun hung suspended over the floodplain of the upper Zambezi. There was still a five-finger measure left before the sun would set over the water far beyond the wake of my little boat, to bathe the endless floodplain, stretching almost to the Angolan border, in an all-engulfing golden haze.
The second tigerfish on my wall
While I adjusted the speed of the little 5hp Mercury outboard with one hand, I watched the tigerfish trolling rod in my other. At just the correct speed, its pulsating tip would betray the rhythm of the deadly dance of the big pink-and-silver Drone spoon 100m behind the boat. It would be irresistible to the monster tigers patrolling the deep, dark channels of this magic river.
Suddenly, the rod was almost snatched from my grasp. I leaned back, setting the hook. Far back, a silver fish gyrated into the air 2m above the crimson surface. After a tough fight in which it jumped six times, it still had enough strength to pull the rod tip beneath the surface several times. When the lip grip tightened around its lower jaw, it was still strong and lively, but what happened in the next 60 seconds was about to kill it.
Knowing how delicate tigerfish are, I was foolish enough, after removing the hook and unnecessarily wasting time to weigh it, to hold the tiger aloft for 30 seconds for my wife Aneta to photograph it. When, after about a minute, I eventually put the 7kg female back into the water, it was too late. I tried my best to revive her for about an hour, in vain. Although she kept on breathing, she turned belly-up every time I let her go. I knew it was a female as only females grow so large.
I already had a mounted tiger on my wall – the first big one I ever caught. I didn’t need another and wanted to release her to breed another day, because in her belly she carried close to a million eggs. Now there’ll be a second tiger on my wall, as a reminder of a valuable lesson learnt.
The art of catch and release
Tigerfish are highly strung and unlike their cousins in the ocean, which often attack lures trolled right in the motor’s bubble stream, they’re wary of outboard-driven boats. They take time to settle down again, after the disturbance of a passing powerboat. This is why I troll faster with my lure far behind the boat. A decade of intensive tiger-fishing has taught me that to catch many big tigerfish, you must troll a long line. I’ve caught and released hundreds of tigers weighing between 5kg and 11kg in this way.
But having so much line out is also a problem. If a tiger is hooked so far away on light tackle, the fight lasts far too long and the prolonged stress kills the tiger, even after it’s released successfully. That’s why my red Ambassadeur 9000 reel is filled with a 40lb line. Here, I don’t troll with light tackle and I fight them hard to land them as soon as possible.
When I want to fish with light tackle, I don’t troll. I drift or tie my boat to the shoreline reeds and use a light spinning rod and reel to cast small spoons, Rapala type lures, or fly-fish with one of my special Mceni tube flies. Fish caught in this way are smaller, but I’ve caught many big tigers – up to 10kg – using a light kurper rod and 8lb line. Because the fish is often hooked less than 30m from the boat, the fight is much shorter, faster, and much more spectacular and, I’m sure, the survival rate is better.
Conservation-minded anglers
Because the tigerfish is our premier inland gamefish and because its numbers are dwindling, especially in the Zambezi, I believe sports-fishermen should start acting responsibly to ensure the wellbeing of this magnificent species. Recreational anglers should never kill them, but release them all alive and well. This isn’t as easy as it sounds, but I’ve made many observations over the years of what works and what doesn’t.
Tigerfish only occur in warm regions, where the water has far less oxygen than a cold trout stream. Under these conditions, their violent activity can easily deplete their blood-oxygen, leading to a build-up of lactic acid in their muscles. To increase the survival rate, the fight should be as short as possible. I consider the duration of the landing process – which is where the fish is out of water and can’t breathe – as most crucial to its post-release survival. By using a lip grip to control it, one can, without lifting the tiger from the water, remove the hook and photograph it. Ignoring this will definitely increase post-release mortality and defeat the whole object of catch-and-release.
This is being investigated by a team of scientists under the leadership of Prof Nico Smit from the Centre of Aquatic Research at the University of Johannesburg. They’re doing some ground-breaking practical research on the post-release survival rates of tigerfish in the Okavango Delta. This research, which could also have a bearing on other species, is very relevant to all conservation-minded anglers, and is in contrast to some nonsensical animal-rights-inspired fish research done abroad.
Photo’s taken by of Gavin Johnson
