"Mile 8". I pulled off the coastal road at the signpost, switched off the wipers and stopped the engine. The temperature gauge read 13º C and the thick, wet fog made it impossible to see the beach, although I could hear the thundering waves of the Atlantic. Being a bit early, I leaned back and pulled out the document I had collected at the office of the Ministry of Fisheries and Marine Resources. It was headed "Fishing Permit for Harvesting for Recreational Purposes". Staring out of the window I asked myself how this unintimate morning out there could comply with what I understood as "recreational", when a yellow LandRover materialized from the fog. Bold letters on the front read "One life - go fish!" A tall, wiry guy alighted and introduced himself "I'm Shane, your guide". We shook hands and one look at him told me, he was wholeheartedly committed to this game.

A friend had advised me not to miss out on angling shark from the beach, one of the great adventures on the Namibian menu. Although it is not a legal constraint, as it is for hunting, I decided to try my luck with the help of an experienced guide.

We drove right onto the beach and Shane prepared the rods. Tying huge chunks of bait to the hooks, he skeptically eyed the water: "The water is too green. If we don‘t get a bite within half an hour, we‘ll move on to another spot." I also looked at the water, which, for my eyes, did not have any particular color, and nodded approvingly.
As he casted some 60 or 70m out into the waves he asked me to put on the wide, bolstered belt with the rod holder and passed the rod to me. I was in business now, but I have to admit, not truly enthusiastic! After a few minutes a group of pelicans landed near by, persistently staring at us from not more than 5 meters. They, apparently, knew this game much better than I did. After a few minutes I understood, whatever Shane was, he was not a talker. But, being adamant, some information leaked through. Here, at the Namibian coast, some really big shark species hunt even in the shallow waters right in front of the beach. The biggest one is the Bronze or Copper Shark, which averages 60 to 80kg, with the heaviest specimen reaching 180kg, followed by the Cow Shark with a maximum of 80kg, and the spotted gulley shark with a maximum of 35 kg. Hound shark and Sand shark are the smaller species with 25, resp. 5 kg. Really exciting, the idea that such a big fish would come into water merely knee deep to catch his prey! This is also the point where the color of the water becomes relevant: bluish or greenish water is clean - with no micro-organisms that form the nutrition for smaller fish, which then might fall prey to sharks. Shane assured me that we would see the sharks as they moved in. If they did. The Pelicans, so far, did not show any signs of agitation.

Shark angling in Namibia is done strictly on a catch and release basis. I remember some juicy shark steaks I had tried in the Caribbean, but here, to protect and preserve the shark population, this delicacy is off limits.

The waves were shimmering now in a somewhat hazy sunlight. Quickly the last patches of fog were dispersed and driven away by the cool southwestern breeze. The day had turned to the better except for the angling. But things were going to change quickly now. Was it the magic of Shane’s indestructible optimism, was it the tasty bait - something had attracted a shark‘s attention. The predator had invisibly approached and charged on the bait. Without prior warning I felt something hit and pull from the other end of the line. As the tip of the 13ft rod turned down almost in a 90-degree angle, Shane was immediately at my side: „Strike! Hard! We must make sure the hook is well placed!“ „And now let him go for while.“ The brake on the reel was set and the fish was heading for deeper waters against the resistance of the reel. For a seemingly endless time it was taking line and more line. I could feel its power and vibrant, untamed energy. No doubt, there was something big pulling on the other end. Whenever the shark changed course more towards the beach I took the opportunity to crank in a few meters of line, every time having the feeling that the shark took more than what I could recover. A feeling, as you get in an aircraft flying through an air pocket - you always have the think you are falling more than you climb. The fight had now been on for more than half an hour and I started to feel muscles I didn‘t even knew of. My fingers started to cramp and my back was aching. It was time to make some progress. The next time when the pulling force waned a bit, I took the rod over my shoulder and walked up the beach, pulling the shark towards the land. Turning around gave me the opportunity to quickly crank in almost all of the distance I had walked. But still the line was strung like a guitar string. „Look, I can see him, the fin‘s out! That‘s a true monster!“ Shane cheered me up. I wanted this fish now. In the morning I had not been sure whether I wanted one at all, but now I wanted it as much as I could and I was determined to pull him out right now. „Take it easy, give him time!“ Shane‘s warning came to late. I almost fell on my back as the line broke with a loud and sharp crack. Paralyzed and frustrated I stared at the flabby line hanging down from the tip of the rod. With a grin Shane slapped my back: „welcome in the club! I see you‘ve got bitten by the bug! Don‘t worry; if you haven‘t lost a shark, you haven‘t been angling! Next time you‘ll win, I‘m sure“
Since the tide was too low now for a new attempt, we packed up and left. Looking back, I could see the pelicans airborne, gliding southwards. In a somewhat buoyant and lively mood I drove back. Yes, it had been worth it. A true and adventurous hunt. And next time I would show him..