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Murchison Falls
Uganda
2000 |
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click photo for map |
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Awesome, Amazing, Majestic |
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Serendipity, Fate, Luck, whatever,
there I was, on the bank, rod in hand, having a quiet bit of fish -
that's Stillwater Trout - when Mick asks if I fancy a Fishing Safari
in Uganda. Now its not often that I'm asked to go fishing, in the
middle of the Dark Continent,
in a War Zone, and in my confusion I agreed. |
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| As you come into
land at Entebbe you can see the rusting hulks of the planes involved
in the
Entebbe Incident. Uganda does not bring confidence, a couple of
days before we left I had read a report of an
LRA
incursion into the Murchison Park area. Still, we were met at
the airport by our hosts the Ugandan Tourist Board and whisked
through Kampala, feeling like Bob Hoskins in 'The Long Good Friday",
to our overnight accommodations at 'Andy the Greeks" how comforting
it was to see the THREE ARMED GUARDS outside, and the small lad with
the Kalashnikov that sat on a wooden chair outside my bedroom door
all night.
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So we set off
for the 7 hour drive to the North of the country. I think the road
to Masindi had
just one bend in it, in five hours driving, away from the palms and
lush green of Lake Victoria to dry scrubland and forest. The road
from Masindi to Para then suddenly drops away, and there in
front is the Great Rift Valley. In a heartbeat I understood how
people are drawn to this place.
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Finally, hot, dusty, and bug eyed we
arrived at the National Park, and our meagre accommodations
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Now came some bad news, we were
supposed to have met the "Director of Fishing" but apparently due to
a bit of a disagreement with the authorities over lack of funds he
had told them where to put their job and had returned to Kampala.
Luckily he had a friend here, an engineer, who was repairing the
engines on the ferry boat. He had a couple of rods we could use,
some spinners, and some line. Wire traces, we made from electrical
cable. All very ramshackle but better than nothing. Mind you to put
this in context I'd never been further than a beach on the
Mediterranean, had only been fly fishing for about 4 years and
hadn't handled a course rod since I was a kid. So this was all
seeming very surreal anyway |
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Luckily we did still have a boat, and two local boatmen. And
the Nile to ourselves, apart from the hippos, crocs,
baboons, elephants - where's Stuart Grainger when you need
him! |
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| It is
early dawn, we approach the falls and steer towards a sandy
shoreline that is occupied by three large
Nile Crocodiles, and surrounded by a pod of Hippo. As we ground
the boat onto the sand the Crocodiles slowly slither into the water,
George bounds from the boat, ties it to a tree and beckons us
ashore. Incredulous and open mouthed be go ashore, and start fishing expecting to be
Croc Food at any moment. (These things DO eat people) |
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We tackled up (as best we could with
what was available) and started to angle for 'bait' fish. Now, I was
just a humble trout angler used to catching 2lb trouts. What counts
as baitfish here are at least as big as my normal quarry.
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| Next we
move across the river to a smooth rocky promontory that separates
the 'Cauldron' below the falls and the 'Crocodile' pool.
We are fishing from a water smoothed
rock above a maelstrom of white water. If I fell in I would drown.
If perchance I didn't drown then the Crocs would get me. Then, if
those thoughts weren't enough to put one in a complete tizz I had a
bite, and in a few minutes I had landed a Nile Perch. This was now
so far removed from my normal life experiences as to be totally
surreal
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And so it continued for the week
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I will awake
from this dream. This is
Spekes' Nile. That is
Murchison's Falls, named by
Baker as he
confirmed Speakes original guess at the source of the Nile. We
passed the pole that held the Telegraph line which Earnest
Hemmingway crashed his light plane into. We are surrounded by pods
of Hippo, Enormous Nile Crocodiles, an astonishing number and
variety of birds.
and we are the only
people here. |
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