Bursting with eager anticipation, I watched as the 250g chartreuse Butterfly Jig fluttered and flicked its way down into the inky blue depths, the single ‘assist hook' trailing behind in its wake. Always I find the first drop or cast on any fishing trip exciting, especially so when fishing a new venue or country, but even in my wildest imagination I wasn't prepared for what on this particular occasion happened next.



When finally the little jig tapped bottom some 60m below the surface I eased the lever drag forward to the strike position, took a couple of quick turns of the handle, jigged the rod a few times, wound some more, jigged again, and I was just about to take a few more swift turns of the reel handle when wham, the rod was all but ripped out of my hands! In an instant the flimsy blank was bent sharply downwards at what seemed an impossible angle as yard upon yard of braid was ripped off the spool. At this point I realised, in a surreal moment, that just a few minutes before I'd been silently wondering to myself whether or not I'd set the drag too heavy!



For maybe five minutes I slogged it out with that fish, which alternated between reel scorching runs and ‘down n' dirty' head thumping, during which time I made absolutely no headway whatsoever; basically I was getting my backside well and truly kicked! Then, just as I was beginning to think I was on a hiding to nothing, I sensed a momentary reduction in pressure at the other end and actually managed to regain a few yards of line, then a few more, and slowly I started to believe that I might eventually get to see the fish I'd hooked.



Ten minutes later she was hoisted aboard, and I was truly staggered by the size of what I'd caught, not how big it was mind you, rather by how ‘small' it was! At barely 20lb in weight it was a fraction of the size I'd first imagined, and I'd never have thought such a ‘small' fish would have been capable of dishing out so much punishment. I'd caught a Napoleon Wrasse, an exquisitely coloured tropical beauty that inhabits the fringes and drop off's of coral reefs around the Indo-Pacific region. A real brute of a fish with ‘botox lips', an impressive set of canine teeth and a face painted in the most intricate spiders web pattern of lilac blue set off with a fire orange eye. She might not have been big, but she was impressive!



During the rest of that first mornings fishing I personally caught somewhere in the region of a dozen different species, most of which were new to me. I caught my first yellow finned grouper, my first rose jobfish, a coral trout and an orange finned emperor, a tomato rock cod and at least three species of both grouper and snapper I was unable to identify. And these were in addition to the giant trevally, blue finned trevally, black jacks, amberjacks and others still that my fellow anglers and I were catching; quite clearly we were fishing somewhere very special indeed.



The trip had begun on a wet and windy February morning at Heathrow, when we boarded an Emirates Boeing bound for Dubai. There we switched planes for a second four hour flight further south to Male, capital of The Maldives where we boarded a third plane for a final 50 minute hop down to remote South Huvadhoo Atoll, located just a few miles north of the equator at the bottom of this idyllic island chain. There we boarded a boat that took us offshore to join ‘The Sultan of Madivaru' the luxury mother ship that was to be our home for the next eight days.



The plan was thus. We would sail to various locations around the atoll chain and anchor in the calm lagoons within the lee of the countless uninhabited islands that fringe the atoll. Next we would board either the large purpose built fishing ‘Dhoni' and venture outside of the protection of the coral reef to jig or cast surface lures in the deep blue water, or alternatively one of two small skiffs in which we would fish mostly within the lagoons and inner fringes of the reef casting spinners of plugs. Another option was to be dropped off and wade mile upon mile of virgin flats with either a fly or spinning rod, or perhaps troll lures for billfish offshore? Yet another option was fishing cut baits from any of the boats...was just eight days going to be enough I wondered?



Jigging and casting ‘industrial size surface poppers' are the key techniques the mainly French, Spanish and Italian anglers who up until now have fished this area employ, and despite a veritable smorgasbord of species to catch, including billfish, just three reign supreme. These are yellowfin tuna, giant trevally and dogtooth tuna, all of which are available in substantial numbers here, with the potential for each and every cast giving the angler the very real possibility of hooking a record breaking fish; landing them, on the other hand, is an entirely different issue. Never during one trip have I seen so many anglers get spooled, smashed to smithereens and basically stuffed by fish as I did during this trip!



Dogtooth tuna are a species I had been looking to add to my life list for some years, and I knew that this was the trip on which to achieve that particular tick. And sure enough I got my first the very first day, at less than 10lb a baby, which I followed up the next day with my second, albeit of a similar size, but I had got the ‘tick'.



A couple of days into the trip a took part in a truly golden session during which we really got amongst the ‘doggies' with our jigs, and I managed to raise the bar with a respectable fish of around 30lb; boy was I chuffed! But no sooner had I finished photographing my new PB dogtooth, when one of the skiffs idled up to us and I was presented with a positively huge fish of 60lb plus caught be Frenchman Brice Ferrawdo, who had hooked the monster casting a popper at the reef edge. I was told that the 40 minute fight that ensued was really something to see.



I got my biggest dogtooth tuna of the trip the next day, a beauty that weighed close on 50lb. that fish all but ripped my arms out of their sockets as I desperately held on while I tried to withstand its unbelievably powerful runs against what had seemed a seemingly ridiculous drag setting. Trust me, jigging over reefs in the tropical seas around the world is one of anglings great experiences: I'm hooked on it!



Casting surface poppers in these wonderfully rich seas is not for the faint hearted. Cast up to 12in of shaped timber or plastic into the white water fringe that invariably is breaking over the outer reef edge, start to retrieve, and I challenge you to prevent your jaw from dropping wide open when you watch a 50lb Giant Trevally appear behind the lure and then demolish it. The take, if you can call it that, is an explosion of white water that has to be experienced to be appreciated. Imagine you are sat by a hotel swimming pool and someone throws a TV set out of a top floor window into the pool and you'll start to get the picture.



The fight, on the other hand, can only be described as awesome. It isn't pretty and it certainly isn't subtle as the fish rips line at ease from a drag that is barely possible to pull line against by hand. In many cases the fish succeeds in smashing your 80lbBS braid and 200lb mono leader to bits, but when you do successfully boat your fish, the sense of achievement can be positively overwhelming.



Casting surface poppers at schooling yellowfin tuna is even more hard core, some might say bordering on stupidity. This is what the Americans call ‘run n' gun' fishing. First you locate the huge flocks of feeding birds, which usually doesn't take long, then quickly motor into position to intercept the fast swim shoals of tunny that are attacking the melee of panicked bait fish from below



As soon as you can you launch the plug at the frenzy and instantly start to crank it back as fast as you can. The takes are mind blowing; an explosion of white water and an arm wrenching jolt as the fish grabs the lure, kicks down a few gears, lights its after burners and screams off. Most of the tuna we caught were in the 30-60lb class, schoolies, but ton plus yellow fringed lumps of muscle are always on the cards. During our trip I saw one angler brought almost to the point of tears by the shear physical exertion of battling a tuna for the better part of an hour, and that was just a 50 pounder, albeit hooked in the tail!





I could go on and on about the fantastic adventures and experiences I had during my trip, but alas I've run out of space. Suffice to say this was one of the most memorable trips I have ever made. I was totally overwhelmed by the experience, and yes, I am going back next year, sooner if I can arrange it!



Everyone who has seen the full set of images I took on that trip has already confirmed they will be joining me, and it looks like I'll be escorting several groups in early 2008.