Drive north 100kms and turn left at the tyres.

These were pretty much the instructions for my fishing trip, Get onto the Nouadibhou road going north, after 100 kms you will see three tyres on the left hand side, turn left there, follow the track until you’re about to drive into the sea. We’ll meet you there.


To be fair, the instructions were excellent, and so my first sea fishing trip in years began. It was a touch fresh first thing (we were there for 8 in the morning) but it soon warmed up, allowing us all to take off the outer layers.

The beach was empty, not another human being as far as the eye could see, our tyre tracks the only sign of life, but just offshore were many little fishing  boats. This didnt bode well for us, as each boat indicated the presence of nets, left to work the rising tide.


I needn’t have worried too much, as soon as the sun came out making the spinners flash, a couple of fish were landed.


The shoals of fish could be seen moving back and forth behind the breakers, breaking the surface with the occasional jump. They were about 50 yards out of our reach so after trying for an hour or so with no further success we moved further along the pristine sands. We tried here for a bit, now lovely and warm but no joy here at all.


All back into the car and drove another 20 minutes along the beach, where we came upon a shanty town fishing village. The villagers were very shy, didnt want their pictures taken, (quite possibly because they were here illegally) but it was a scene of abject misery. Delapidated boats, rubbish, abandoned nets and all manner of general detritus abounded, all enveloped with an almost visible odour of rotting fish.


We drove further along the beach, once again isolation abounded, with only the occasional sign of civilisation nearby. I’ve lived near beaches for large parts of my life, and I still love seeing only my footprints on the virgin sand.


Another move, this time to where we could see fish moving, but we could also see a line of fishing boats. Logic said we wouldnt be lucky with the amount of boats here, but no, a goodly haul was ours.


The final haul of bass, mullet and a seagull (we let the seagull go) was made even better by seeing herons and a pelican.

Although I was well aware of where I was, for those few hours I wasn’t in Mauritania, I was on a beach, somewhere, anywhere, fishing with a group of friends. The sand behind, the water in front, a beautiful way to spend time.


About bobleponge216

Elderly rotund toothless male seeks wilderness to travel to.
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6 Responses to Drive north 100kms and turn left at the tyres.

  1. Golly, Sir. You’ve almost managed to make fishing sound interesting.
    I once had a similar experience (without the fishing) on the northern shore of Lake Malawi, after we had taken a five-hour drive to Mbeya to make use of the international telephones in the Railway Hotel, and found there to be no room available for the night. The lake is a couple of hours south, but I can think of worse fates than waking on the beach and watching the sun rise over the Livingstone Mountains.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I love fishing in almost all its guises (with the exception of catching something and chucking it back in). I could think of little better than waking on a beach and watching the sun come up. (Caveat inserted, as long as its warm and I’d not just been shipwrecked).

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Forgot to mention that my souvenir of that trip was a jigger – a chigoe flea – that made its home in the base of my big toe, requiring a procedure to extract it a week or so later.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Nikki says:

    Sounds like, no matter our origins, we humans all have experiences that would fall into the area of “Forsan et haec…” ….loosely translated into “Perhaps someday these things may be pleasant to recall.” I find that oddly comforting.
    Gentlemen, thanks for sharing your adventures.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Agreed totally. I’m fascinated with peoples lives, we’ve all gone through different things, and I love hearing about it, both good and bad. Often the bad things are the best things later on in life.


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