On weekends, until the rainy season arrived, I go fishing on the Congo. The river here is about 1.5 kilometers wide (a bit over a mile) and the current is VERY fast. Too fast to get a sinking line down before it’s past you. So I spend a lot of time on the shallow side-side channels (the tertiary channels off of the secondary channels). These are like rivers themselves, and a lot of locals fish them also. I haven't had any luck with my fly rods yet, but I still haven't learned what the local fish eat. The natives, however, have some fascinating ways to catch. There is the ubiquitous throw-net (a round net, rimmed with tire weights, and with a long string coming from the center). They wade into a shallow stretch, and then toss the net like a Frisbee, allowing it to land amongst the rocks and branches. These guys have incredible aim: I have seen them regularly place the net in a convoluted-shaped opening with branches overhanging it and squirrelly current, not missing an inch of exposed water. They let the net settle to the bottom, and then gently start retrieving it. The fish feels the net start to wrap around its sides, and rather than dive for the open bottom, tries to escape by swimming through the net. When the fisherman feels a fish, he reaches down under it and closes off the bottom and gathers the fish in his arms. I have seen one guy bring in a 30-inch barbel this way, at a spot where I had just been dropping streamers with no luck.
Another common method was born of limited materials. A fisherman ties a 2-inch piece of monofilament to a small hook, and baits it with a small piece of meat (often a chunk of bait fish). He ties the mono to a long stalk of reed or river grass, and shoves the end of the reed down among the large rocks along the river, often jamming 10 or 20 reeds in a general area, then goes and contemplates the river for a few minutes. Then he retraces his steps, pulling up one reed after another. About 1/3 of his hooks will have a small eel on them, with the occasional one in the 20-30 inch range. He keeps these in a mesh bag tied to a rock to keep them alive until he gets them home.
The fishermen have become accustomed to seeing me there, and call me 'le Prof' since they know I work at the school. Initially, I got stared at and surrounded by inquisitive kids and fishermen, but now they leave me alone and we all fish in peace. Last time out, I 'accidentally' left a long piece of mono wrapped around a stick where the eel fishermen could find it. Hopefully, one of them will accidentally leave me a fish, but I doubt it.
The rainy season is wild. It rains about an hour each day, usually about 9 pm (which accounts for my 10 pm visit of flying ants). The short, torrential rains are accompanied by the most hellacious lightning storms I have ever enjoyed. One day last week, the lightning was so rapid-fire that before it started raining, I went out back and was looking at the strobe-light effect on the fruit bats swirling overhead. The flashes were literally coming at a rate of 2 or 3 a second, and the bats were swooping overhead in the strobe, diving among the branches of the mango trees getting mosquitoes and flies. All the neighbors came out too, and we had a wonderful time watching the psychedelic show.
Meanwhile, I get more and more used to this place, its subtle and not so subtle beauty, and look forward to the end of the rainy season when I can go fishing some more. The rivers are far too flooded now to hope to get a clear cast, and the ground is soaked everywhere so access is limited. However, the color 'green' was invented with this place in mind, and all the fruit trees and gardens are exploding with food and color. Flowers are everywhere, colors and smells are enough to make you sit down, and life goes on.
OTHER STORIES YOU'LL LIKE:
Living in Congo, Part V - - Road Trip. 11/04
Living in Congo, Part IV - Military Danger. Riverman Buck's continuing adventures teaching and living in Africa. 5/04
Riverman, I presume? Living in Congo - Part II. 2/04
Riverman takes on a new life Living In Congo, Part I 1/04
Damned happy Canoeing Latvia's Gauga river 6/01