The Maldives: POOR MAN'S GT PARADISE

Fly fishing for giant trevally is more popular – and more hyped – than ever before. The driving force behind this development has been the incredible fishing around some of the outer atolls of the Seychelles; names like Farquhar, Astove and, not least, Cosmoledo are right at the top of any GT fly fisher’s dream destinations. But with a price tag running from well above $10,000, it’s not for everyone. So, when you have GT on your mind, but your fishing budget doesn’t quite match the price tag mentioned above, you need to look elsewhere. Christmas Island? Sudan? Or, for a growing number of especially European fly fishermen, the Maldives. Welcome to the poor man’s world of GT on fly.

- Thomas Sobirk

One January morning, somewhere in the northern part of the Maldives. The tide isn’t moving yet, so you aren’t expecting shots at the big game. Instead, you decide on walking the reef with your 9-wt in hand – 12-wt tucked away for now – looking for lightning-blue shapes moving in and out in the wash from the surf breaking over the shallow reef. A quick cast, followed by a fast retrieve, and any bluefin trevally getting sight of your little crab in the turbulent water equals a wholehearted attack, with all guards down, until it finally connects with your fly; the line comes tight and you’re on for some action. Which, you tell yourself, is welcome after two days of catching nothing. Hooking something, yes – but catching? No. Not so far.

The big game here doesn’t come easy. So, you amuse yourself with the bluefins. A trigger tails, its big, yellow and orange tail waving you closer with its irresistible come-and-get-me-if-you-can attitude. You can’t. Before you are within casting range, a wave washes over the shallow reef, and the trigger disappears with the water pulling back to sea. Never mind, the bluefins are still around, and soon afterwards you hook another one. The third this morning. Splendid sport on the light gear, and you would have enjoyed it even more if that voice in the back of your head could, just for a moment, stop reminding you what you are really here for: big game. B-I-G game. Caranx ignobilis. Aka giant trevally. GT among friends.

“The fight is over, the GT won, you lost. The fish, that is, not the memory. As you make your way to dry land, bleeding lightly from the bruises on your legs, you feel more alive than you have done in a long time.”