Diving with the Solomon Islanders
Spearfishing Downunder issue #46
In the Solomon Islands Spanish Mackeral are known as Kingfish or Huruniu, Dogtooth Tuna are Kere, Coral Trout are Urahu, Sweetlip are Rauniponi, Trevally are Mamula, Red Throat are Leiu, Barracuda are Parauro yet the Locals are simply called Andrew and Brian.
The Solomons is the kind of place that time forgot. Or is it that the Solomon Islanders simply forgot about time? I think it’s a bit of both really. I was going to title this article ‘How to take your girlfriend on a spearfishing trip and get away with it’. But by the end of the journey it seemed clear that the real story was in the Solomon Islanders themselves.
My better half and I had planned this trip for 6 months. But it’s not until you get there that you realise that all plans go out the window and you need to go with the flow, Island style.
The first week was spent in a resort off Gizo where we did 4 days scuba diving on some WW2 wrecks and pristine coral reefs with abyssal drop-offs just a few metres from palm fringed tropical islands. On every dive I saw Spanish Mackeral. We were schooled by Trevally and Barracuda. Massive Hump-Head Wrasses wandered into range. I was getting an itchy trigger finger, especially when a huge GT shot out from under the stern of a sunken Japanese cargo ship.
I left Gizo thinking this is definitely a place to return to. But perhaps on a proper charter next time if I wanted to land some big game fish.
The next week was spent on the Island of Tavinapupu in Marau Sound, a ½ hour light plane ride from Honiara. Well, it is a ½ hour journey if you don’t drop some friends off at Seghe, then Munda or even detouring to Ulawa. It’s an adventure in itself landing on these grass runway strips cut out of tropical island jungle as the local kids chase the plane and wave. I was beginning to like being late.
It was here in Marau Sound that I met Andrew and Brian. Andrew is the resort boat driver and spearfisherman who makes his own guns from bits and pieces he can find, brought in from Honiara. Brian Kuamae is a bit of a local legend. He said he was 42 or maybe 43 perhaps. He wasn’t sure. He’d started spearfishing with an Australian pioneering charter operator called Brant Bailey sometime in the 80’s. Brian was rumoured to be able to dive to 60 metres. So I was looking forward to spearing with this guy. It wasn’t until I met him that he corrected it to 60 feet.
At our first arranged sit-down Brian brought his home-made speargun. He carved the stock and handle out of one piece of drift wood. The spear shaft stainless steel rod was secured from a hardware store in Honiara. The butt end of the shaft was flattened and two V’s cut into it. This is where the rubbers sit. There’s no loop rubbers here. It’s one rubber either side, each with its own wire bridle. The trigger mech is simple. You press down with your thumb, popping up the spear which is held against the tension with a metal pin inserted into the stock. Brian crafted his own flopper head that drops down like a ‘T’ on the end of the spear once the spear is through the fish. The flopper is held straight by rubber from a bicycle tyre tube that is forced back as the spear penetrates the fish. It sounds complicated but ingeniously simple.
A huge storm battered us that night. Thunder and rain sent the land crabs and lizards scurrying about our hut. The traditional welcome here is for the villagers to rush out with spears and shields with fierce faces, yelling and feigning attack. If you stand your ground they’ll respect you enough to allow you to enter. Well, it appeared the ocean was a traditionalist as we headed out through big seas and strong winds. Taaru Reef beyond Taaru Island was our destination. Also known as Custom Reef or Man Reef, it is tabu for any females to enter - kind of like a backyard tool shed.
When we got to Man Reef it was decided the current was too strong so we retired to the island’s fringing reef with drop-off. Andrew and Brian put me to shame here in their own backyard, spearing some great reefies including Urahu, Reto and a big Unicorn Fish. It was great watching these guys hold their breath for 2 minutes, hanging on the edge of the drop-off as fish became more and more comfortable with their presence and drifting within range. I was diving too deep and the aim was off, nicking a few trout. I also couldn’t approach the Jobfish or big Parrotfish no matter how stealthy I thought I was. But no matter, Brian and Andrew could feed their families.
The next day was our last day before we would leave for home. Another storm hit hard that night with rain and thunder all night long. But I was determined to stand my ground at Taaru Reef. My manhood was at stake here. I was also representing Australia. I wanted a Spanish Mackeral and this time I was going to do it my way. So I broke out the home-made flasher made with a CD, a lure, flip flasher, some fishing line and child’s floatie.
We left later to try and dive the turn of the tide for a reduced current. Safety seems to be an afterthought with the Solomon Islanders. The idea was to anchor the boat near the reef drop-off and swim up-current to the drop-off and just keep kicking and hold your ground in one spot until something comes along to shoot. But no-one was left in the boat in case the current got hold of us.
I, of course, while unwinding the flasher, got pushed back away from the other guys. But the flasher was working. 2 Spanish Mackeral came in for a look but not long enough. 4 grey reef sharks came in. There was loads of different schoolfish and baitfish near the surface. A large Hump Head Wrasse appeared for a few seconds and a Green Jobfish patrolled the perimeter. Then all of a sudden a lone Spaniard. I dived, finned closer and a nice shot through the gills. The flopper was set but aren’t you supposed to shoot them in the middle to reduce the power of the tail?
I pulled it in quick but grabbed the tail with the wrong hand, meaning I grabbed the gills with my left hand and I couldn’t grab my knife. Amateur mistake from a left-handed shooter. While changing hands the Spaniard got free and leaped out of the water. I was a tangled mess when I finally secured it. But all this commotion drew the attention of a largish grey reef shark. Let the games begin. I spent at least 20 minutes fending it off with the spear which was still through the Spaniard before the guys realised I had drifted away and reached me in the boat. Not very smart. But I’d added a new species to the list, everyone would be eating well that night and my manhood was intact...just.
After getting back on the boat I suggested that teamwork would produce more fish for everyone. I would flash for Andrew and visa versa. This worked a treat with Andrew nailing the biggest Rainbow Runner I’d ever seen, 2 Butterfish and Barracuda. Hopefully we all learned something that day.
I left Brian with a float line and a float and Andrew with a spare 8mm shaft and a 19mm rubber as he’d lost a home-made gun on a Kere not that long ago. It’ll be nice to know that while my expensive spearfishing gear is locked away in my ‘Man Shed’ during the cold of Melbourne’s winter that Andrew and Brian are out there in their ‘Man Shed’ bringing home some dinner.