“Call me Ishmael,” said the captain. Beyond us, by the light of the moon, we could see the inky waters of the Arabian Sea rising and falling. I wondered if he knew that he was quoting the first line of Moby Dick. Could there be killer sperm whales off India’s western shore? Brushing the thought from my sleepy mind, I followed Ishmael down the beach to the 30-ft-long, traditional wooden fishing boat that his crew had just pushed into the breakers. By 5am, we were far out to sea, with the brilliant red glow of dawn setting the east ablaze.
Goa may not be the first place you’d look in India for an adventure holiday. Hiking in the Himalayas, horseriding in Rajasthan or rafting at Rishikesh would seem more apt. But if sunbathing isn’t your thing, even here in the old Portuguese enclave, there are thrills to be had. Sitting on the beach, I’d watched intrigued each afternoon as the fishermen came home. I helped them push their vessels onto the beach, and dreamed of being a fisherman, if only for a day. So I asked the owner of our hotel if it could be arranged. And two days later, I was out there with Ishmael and his noble crew.
With zero knowledge of fishing, I was sent to the top of a 12-ft mast and told to keep out of the way. Fine by me. From the crow’s nest, the view was sublime. The ocean was a perfect turquoise, cleaner and clearer than by the beach, sparkling in the morning sun. Down below the fishermen prepared their nets as gulls darted this way and that.
The captain stood at the bow, staring intently at the pulsating waters. After a moment he raised his arm and pointed to port. From my vantage point I saw the water 20ft away move in a thousand tiny ripples, as though the surface of the sea had shivered. A shoal of mackerel. At once, the men started to throw out the nets, chanting as they did so, working in a synchronised routine. At the same time, the captain pulled the boat round in a large loop, surrounding the prey. The circle complete, the men pulled a rope that sealed the bottom of the net, cutting the escape route, and then a rope at the top.
After five minutes, the process was complete and the fish hauled aboard. Ishmael smiled. It was the largest catch they had taken all season. As we made our way back to land, four grey dolphins joined us.
A two-bedroom cottage at Aashyana Lakhanpal on Candolim Beach costs £715-£1,485 per week, depending on the season. aashyanalakhanpal.com
