The Sanctuary of Charao Island. Fishing in Goa – Part 5

Through Goa, in Goa, with Goa! I have been up and down the Konkan coast and for all its serenity and raw charm, there is no place like Goa! This small cut of land possesses a potent mix of beauty and culture, all distilled into one surrealistic experience. This makes it unique for both – the first time tourists and to a travelling fisherman like me, that once visited this land cannot be misremembered. In fact, we pine for Goa, and at the very mention of the name, we want to drop everything and rush off down the coast, hell for leather.
In most of my stories, I have essayed to bring forth this very essence of Goa, which transcends the fishing and moves into the realm of archetypes. The old white chapels that dot the hillsides, the rivers and tributaries meandering their seaward journey through the countryside and sometimes even through someone backyard. The bars and restaurants, some of who can serve up a piping hot prawn curry upheld with a chilled beer, with such food for the soul there is no need for thought. Just go with flow and nirvana is a stone throw away, Aye! beyond that coconut tree at Alfie’s, among the fish fry and Fenny…

A Goan village basking away in the sunshine

Every river in Goa is skirted by healthy lines of mangrove and along with the river, they meander their way to the sea. In some places, they have grown themselves into small impenetrable jungles, which in turn have become havens for fish, birds and the occasional crocodile. Halfway up the Mandovi River lies the island of Chorão, better known for its bird sanctuary, it is accessible by the ferry from the Ribandar Jetty via the mainland. Charao is a picturesque little place made up of whitewashed churches sprinkled with old Portuguese houses. In the distant past, it was here that most of the Portuguese nobility and rich resided, spending a life of comfort and luxury. This was the reason why Chorão Island became known as Ilha dos Fidalgos (Island of Noblemen). Today, it is a time machine, and as you walk down its narrow cobbled streets, you walk back 100 years or so. Of course, to fully realize this Goan feeling, you must stop by the small bars, who dish-out some delicious home cooked fish curry, and coupled with some Cashew Fenny shots a feeling of nobility slowly creeps over you, while the hot Goan sun indiscriminately shines over the rest of the village, rich and poor alike.
Well, this article is not just about the islands gastronomical delights, it’s about some serious fishing to be had in the mangroves that surround the island.

I had discovered the Chorao Bird Sanctuary by chance when invited on a bird-watching expedition by a rather distinguished but cranky old birder, however, when it came to birds (I mean the feathered variety) this fellow has the best eye in the business.
As you disembark off the Chorao ferry, just left off the jetty is the entrance to the bird sanctuary. After buying a ticket you enter into a dense mangrove forest, which seems to possess a perpetual gloom of green. Here you must tread carefully onto the creaking wooden planks that are aligned to form the base of the pathway. Under these wooden planks lies a thick ooze of blackened slime that clings to anything and has a special fondness for your footwear. These wooden walkways run through the sanctuary and in some places there are makeshift watchtowers connected by roped bridges that make the going most precarious but extremely exciting.

Creaking wooden planked walkway of Chorao Bird Sanctuary

At the end of one such pathway, I discovered a desolate small creek, and with no bridge across, it made for a rather disappointing end to the birding walkabout, but for a fisherman like me, this spot was bliss, it had all the makings of a great fishing spot. A swampy creek like this is an ideal hunting ground for big barramundi. These big fish would chase mullets off the main river and into this creek, and among the submerged roots of mangroves, the mullet would be safe, but not for long, for within those dark crevices hide the viscous Mangrove Jack’s. These fish are also called “Red Snapper” in Goa, they are extremely versatile and aggressive fish, and will snap at anything that moves. As if to confirm my hypothesis, I heard a mighty splash that sent many a small mullet out of the water in a desperate leap of escape. All this went unobserved to my birding friends who had their eyes up in the trees. But for me, I vowed to come back with some heavy tackle and live bait. The more I thought about it, the bigger the barramundi at the end of my line got! until it took on such gigantic proportions that focusing on birds was completely out the question. I packed up and stomped my way out on the planks, not before saying a quick goodbye to the old birder, who seemed too busy hustling a water-hen of some sort to even acknowledge my sudden departure.

Tidal Backwaters

The fact remains that I have yet to find the time to go back to fish this undiscovered spot. On inquiring with the locals, I found that the place does have some potential if one is willing to brave the harmless crocodiles and hoards of mosquitoes that make their presence felt, literally once the sun goes down. And yes as for the crocs, they are well behaved and haven’t eaten anyone for as long as anyone can remember. Even those juicy Portuguese from yester years were left unmolested.
Would be nice to hear a pingback if any of our readers do pay this place a visit.
Cheers
Dean