david korte photographs

The rainy season with the hot, humid temperatures makes a perfect excuse for a bar-b-que at the beach.  Seems like most of the rain falls in the night, then turns to steam in the heat of the day.  We assembled some fish brochettes, and chicken brochettes, packed some drinks, fishing equipment, Elle and our hammock, and headed for Colas beach.   Angelique and Poppy joined Lisa and Elle and myself.  While waiting for the fire to reduce to coals, I fixed a piece of tilapia onto a bait-set and lobbed it seaward.

Not much fishing action until near the end of dinner when I hooked a small but feisty bull shark.  Different fish react differently when hooked, and I could tell by the vibrating run to deeper water that this was not a sand shark.  Real sharks seem to be common along the beach lately, and I have lost several larger sharks in the past few weeks when they mince the line or break the hook in their struggle to escape.

They usually beeline for the deep sea, spinning off line like there is no drag before turning to fight back, tugging and shearing through the heavy monofilament of a bait set, but for some reason this shark was unable to cut the line.  Probably the line was wedged in the corner of its mouth and I was able to crank it to the beach before it could turn back to sever the line.  About three kilos of angry shark came thrashing and spinning out of the surf.  It did manage to cut my finger as I tried to remove the hook.  Lesson #1: Don’t try to remove a hook from a shark’s mouth with your fingers.