Mackerel Master class Shore entry Dive
We all love shooting big Mackerel wether it’s shoals of big Natal Snoek (Queen Mackerel) or big single Croc Couta (Narrow Barred Spanish Mackerel) especially off a shore entry dive!
Here’s a great write up about a summer shore entry dive up on the north coast of KwaZulu Natal South Africa by Master Sean Burns. Take note of the tide and methods used to find the fish…
I absolutely love it when the stars align, and by stars, I mean everything just falls into place like a perfectly executed dive—or like the kind of day you get when you manage to avoid stepping on Legos. First, the work was wrapped up early. Second, there were no household chores waiting for me to “deal with later,” and third, and most crucially, the sea was cleaner than a germaphobe’s kitchen on cleaning day! Everything was going right.
In no time at all, I was suited up, my Blackfin fish float was packed and ready to go with every item I needed including the mask, fins, line, and flasher
Before you could say “shark fin soup,” I was backing into the shore break with my float in hand . Using it like a makeshift surfboard, I paddled out, dodging the occasional wave with the finesse of a dolphin on a good day. A few duck dives, a couple of snorts of seawater, and I was in the clear—backline, baby!
Mask on, I checked the water visibility—15 meters of crystal-clear blue. Perfect. Like, “Where have you been all my life?” perfect.
With my guns loaded and my mini buzz bomb flasher deployed, I let the dropping tide rip drift me into the deep. After anchoring the float in 14m of water, I started the hunt.
It didn’t take long for a shoal of queen mackerel to move in, curious about my flasher. I took a deep breath, did a decent dive (could’ve been a bit more graceful, but whatever), lined up my shot, and BAM—a perfect spine shot. After a short but spirited tussle, my first fish was secured. Whoop, whoop!—just three minutes in and a good fish already in the bag.
Things quieted down for a bit, so I decided to occupy myself with my trusty flash stick, which, let’s be real, is just a glorified mussel shell. It stinks. It wobbles. It’s magic. And on the very first sink, it got hit by a whole squadron of heifer snoek. They swarmed it like it was Black Friday and the last discounted TV.
I dove down and picked my fish. My shot? Maybe not my best work, but it was good enough to send it fleeing. Now, I was chasing the thing in the opposite direction, all while cursing myself for not grabbing the flash stick as I went.
Long story short, I finally got the snoek in hand and swam a solid 50 meters back to the float. As I was reeling in my spear line and reloading, a curious Zambo(Bull shark) decided I looked like an all-you-can-eat buffet. But I was no longer on the menu. Nice try, buddy.
After 30 minutes, I had two fish in the float, and I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. So I grabbed an oyster shell lid—because why not—and threw it up current. You know what that means? Yep. The bomber snoek shoal returned!
They were so focused on the sinking shell that I had enough time to line up a perfect shot, roll the fish over, and bag it without any line being pulled from my reel. Three fish, 40 minutes in—things were looking very good.
Now, here’s where things got a little weird. I decided to gut my third snoek and use the guts as chum. What could go wrong? Apparently, everything. As the blood and guts sank, a fresh shoal of Queen Macks glided in like the sea was on the edge of a buffet line.
I duck-dived and gently descended, lined up a shot… and hit a fat snoek. That was when Mr. Zambo decided it was time for a snack. He swooped in like a foodie at a wine tasting, got his fill, and disappeared. Reload. Repeat. Same song, second verse. Quick shot, quick run, and yup, Zambo got another free meal. At least my other fish stayed safe in the float!
One hour in, three fish in the bag. Things were getting really memorable now.
With the Zambo still hanging around, I moved 200 meters down the reef. And then, a miracle happened. A big King Mackerel circled my flasher like a potential date checking out the appetizers!
I dropped down, placed a perfect shot right into its spine, and watched it pull two meters of line before rolling over like it was taking a nap. No time to waste. Dive knife to the brain and fish in the bag. Score! That was fish number four. The float was looking like a hippo on a diet, but I had space for one more.
While retrieving my anchor, I looked up and spotted a lone Queen Mackerel inspecting my mini buzz bomb. Perfect. I aimed, shot, and grabbed its tail as it did its little death rattle. Fish number five—done. Full bag, about 45kg of fish, blood in the water, sharks circling, and it was time to go.
On my way back to shore, I packed everything away and rode the float in on a good set wave like a 10-year-old bodyboarding champion. Got to the shore, removed my fins, and heaved the float up the beach like a post-Thanksgiving turkey.
A local fisherman kindly helped me carry my fish up the steep stairs, and as a thank you, I gave him one of the Queen Macks. He looked at it like I handed him a treasure chest. Hey, I’m a giver!
And I have no doubt that if I hadn’t had that fish float, the greedy Zambo would have made off with my entire haul. As it was, I walked away with a full bag and a day I’ll never forget. Star alignments and Blackfin Fishfloats for the win.
Aweh Sean very good bag of fish and Sharks in the mix too! We wouldn’t want it any other way in KZN right?
As always dive safe and straight spears from the Bear.
