| Fishing Oman |
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Page 3 of 7  “Yeah, well,” Gerrard said. “The tuna were late last year, and they’re not here yet now. Welcome to global warming, mate.” The cheery South African, who has guided sheiks and oil moguls in Dubai for years, moved his operation down to Oman when Dubai was declared “fished out.” That was two years ago, and now he runs charters on a wide-open 30-foot double-hulled catamaran built for speed.“The tuna run with the dolphins,” Gerrard explained. Which was why he was blasting all over the Gulf in pursuit of glossy gray dolphin backs. Gerrard kept spotting them in the mist, always precisely where the boat wasn’t. Andersen sank into the lone deck chair—striking out was new to him, as his fishing luck normally verges on the uncanny. Once, while cod fishing in Arctic Norway long after the apex of the season, he pulled 14 monumental specimens out of water that should have had none. The skipper instantly offered him a live-aboard job. “Dolphins, 11 o’clock!” Gerrard suddenly announced. “They’re going that way, Hussein,” he hollered to his young Omani assistant, then strapped fishing belts around Andersen and Brothers. “Are you harnessing me to the boat?!” Andersen yelled over the engines, anticipating the protection of 30 feet of fiberglass and steel. “I’m harnessing you to the rod,” Gerrard yelled back, then put a fat Shimano baitcasting reel into his hands. The fishermen would have to keep themselves out of the sea. “When you hook one, let it run three or four seconds, then flip this to max. We’ve got a 50/50 chance.” Then something caught Gerrard’s eye. “Hussein! See those birds? Tuna!” Hussein made a sharp right, and they headed for a ball of bait splashing up a storm about 20 yards out. By the time they reached the spot, local fishermen in a pink skiff were already in position. “Those guys, they catch a lot of tuna. Handline ’em, too. Very difficult,” Gerrard said with a nod. “Omanis are fabulously effective fishermen. Always in the right place.” And so, for once, was Gerrard’s boat. But to no avail. Nothing took the guys’ hooks, and the sea continued its tilted slam dance. Then a seven-story flume of black smoke billowed up in the middle distance. “Omani navy ships playing war games,” Gerrard said nervously. “Hussein, get us away from them!” |
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