Forget fiddling around with worms next to some freezing, windswept lake. The latest thing in fishing is to do it with a kayak, and it's just landed on a beach in Murcia
Fishing is a mysterious sport. Beyond the fundamental matter of whether you catch bugger all, or more importantly if you care, it is actually the biggest participant sport in the world.The forum for www.texaskayakfisherman.com alone gets over 1000 posts a day. And where there are fish big money follows. The FLW Outdoors, a US tournament, attracts prize money of $50m and the winner scoops $500,000. That would buy an awful lot of worms.
And you never know what might end up liking the look of your bait. While catching a train to the Costa Cálida in Murcia, a photo of a slab of flesh with eyes leaps gamely off the page of my newspaper and nearly spills the coffee. Recently in Bordeaux doing a bit of fishing, a British angler called Graham Slaughter hooked the biggest carp ever caught, weighing an equipment-trashing 40kg. Luckily his friends promptly threw him in the lake, the showoff.
But this raises some pertinent questions with the novice kayak fisherman. What on earth happens if, sitting in the sun in your kayak with rod in hand and not a thought in your head, you hook a small but sturdy shark that tows you off, screaming, out to sea? Or you roll the kayak and wrap yourself in the line, only to end up dangling underwater, being nibbled by opportunist crabs?
Thankfully, wisdom comes with a Yorkshire accent: “If you hook a really big fish, you can cut the line, which is just self-preservation, or do the American thing, give the fish free line, paddle quickly to shore and land it from there”, Gary Smith, 47, calmly tells me in his laidback way. “And the kayaks are very stable. As a professional rally driver in the UK he won the Rallycross Championship in 1988 before starting Spain’s first kayak fishing outfit and becoming something of a local fishing celebrity. And right now he’s fooling around with some chicken on the barbeque.
Passing through wooden doors set in whitewashed walls topped off with bougainvillea, the house feels like a straightforward sanctuary, with two excitable dogs called Nina and Tina, who also have an interest in barbecued chicken, and a pool. Based in La Magdalena, a small village 20 minutes from Murcia airport, his sharp and lively girlfriend Cherrill was a successful car trader back in the UK. As relaxing breaks go, it couldn’t get off to a better start. Beers in hands, we are soon discussing the quality of beer from Lidl and watching a bit of football.
Fate lent Gary a hand in the business decision to begin kayak fishing. “I was finding it difficult to get a charter boat license, so I bought some 14-foot Malibu X Factor kayaks instead. They are obviously greener than motorboats and they can reach tricky places without worrying the fish. Bristling with all sorts of gadgets, such as rod holders, GPS, fishfinders, nets and small anchors, this branch of the sport is exploding in the US. The first ever pro-series kayak fishing tournament will be held in Texas later this year, and they want Gary to organise it. He recently held the first kayak fishing tournament in nearby Puerto de Mazarrón, which caused ear-to-ear grins with the Spanish.
My luck is not as good as Slaughter’s with the fish the following morning. The wind tends to pick up in the afternoons so we leave at 9am and drive 22 km down a new and empty stretch of motorway. The beige mountains of the Sierra de las Moreras rear up above acres of white plastic, under which fruit and vegetables are grown on the parched land. Like fishing, Murcia is an enigma, mainly known for scuba diving and vegetables, a weird combination at the best of times. Fifteen years ago, the farmers here were driving donkeys; now they’ve cashed in on the property boom and traded a dry plot for a shiny Mercedes. We pass two old-timers leaning on sticks having a gossip at the end of a rough track coming into Canada de Gallego, a pebbly, peaceful beach and an ideal place to launch. In among the mixture of rock, weed and sand offshore, we will be searching for Red Bream and Red Porgy.
Most of Gary’s customers are British expats who moved to Murcia to play golf. With escalating costs, they have looked for a less expensive sport and have rediscovered the passion for fishing from their youths. His other clients today are Dave and Gareth, a father and son from Durham, and Gareth’s Scottish girlfriend Cathryn, all on holiday. “It’s last chance saloon”, says Gareth. “If I don’t catch anything today, I am selling my rod.” After paddling out 200 metres, Gary’s fishfinder makes encouraging noises, showing not only the depth but the rough size of the fish as well. Using frozen prawns packed in sea salt, we attach baited hooks to Grauvell 240 MG Spin rods. It’s easy to become over-eager and rush at everything; the key is to simply switch off and chill out. Drifting at a lazy 0.8 kph over dark patches and clear sand, Dave and Gareth hook seven tiddlers apiece, some of them “Magres” while I catch two small “Raspallones” (both of them variants on the Sea Bream). The weather is unsettled and is putting the fish off feeding, and to cap it all I snag the line and then snap off the end of the rod.
The following day Gary and I paddle out 600m from the same beach to a spot he has named the Fish Trap, which is devoid of life. At a kilometre offshore it shelves from 7.8m to 18m, where we drop our small anchors into the dark water. “There are some big fish down here, he murmurs thoughtfully, as the fishfinder beeps away and I try to bait the hooks with bits of squid instead of my thumb. Little fish attack the bait with sharp, insistent tugs but we only catch a few small Bream over the next three hours. It feels like flotation therapy with sun out here. We idly discuss Extremadura, where Gary recently took a fishing party and which he believes is Europe’s undiscovered fishing spot. The first fish we caught was an 8lb Tench, getting on for record-breaking size in the UK. We drift for a while, blissfully disconnected. “This is the best thing about kayak fishing”, Gary muses. On the shore, someone comes up to you every five minutes and asks you what bait you are using.
The week is sliding into some irresponsibly long siestas and relaxing fishing so on Sunday it’s time for a history lesson. As well as keeping the home happy, Cherrill also arranges tours of nearby Cartagena and the surrounding area with Philip, an expat with an obsession with the past. After coffee and maps, we drive the winding road up to Cabo Ti–osa Fortress, a dusty 20km away. A lot of things have happened in Murcia, from the Germans operating U-boats out of secret coves to the biggest guns ever made being based at this strange, disused hilltop spot. Like two squat, black monsters guarding the horizon, they were built by Vickers in the UK and could hit a ship 20 miles out to sea. Now if we could just point them in the direction of the fish.
Kayak fishing costs £68 per person per day (minimum of two people; approximately 3 to 5 hours) or £499 for a week.This includes transfers, equipment, accommodation and meals, with a small supplement for alcohol. July and August are very sunny and hot. For more details look at
Cherrill organises local four-hour tours, covering topics such as Cartagena, the military, the Navy and architecture, from £14 per person, including transportation and two guides.
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