Thing has never been a major part of my life. When I was a child in Canada I used to fish in the early morning with my Dad for perch and lake trout, and when I got married I found myself salmon fishing in Labrador on our honeymoon (how did that happen?). But for me it is no more than that. I have not fished since my honeymoon, in fact. And now I find myself rising at dawn in my adopted country, Uganda, to spend a day fishing for Nile perch on Lake Victoria.

I awake to the sound of the muezzin at 5am but hunker down under the duvet for an hour before getting up. The Speke Marina is about 20 minutes away from Kampala, and we are there by 7:30 - the sun is coming up over the lake and mist is rising off the water, shrouding the emerald islands in the bay. Pied kingfishers dart about the reeds as we prepare the boat. Johnny and John, my guides for the day, are like a comedy duo: the straight man and the funny man, and they make a good team. Both of them are English but born and raised in Uganda, with lots of stories to tell.

I sit and enjoy the view as we head for our destination, a good half hour's boat ride away from the mainland. Rods are prepared: traces made, lures attached, rod holders fixed to the side of the boat and the fish finder switched on.

Some of the lures make me giggle. Given to Johnny by an American missionary who'd been in Uganda since the '50s, these lures must be collectors' items by now. Made of wood, intricately hand-painted and still packaged in their natty '50s boxes, these Creek Chub lures are a riot. "Get 'em for sure, use a Creek Chub lure" reads the box.

But the lures are big, as big as my foot, and I expect we're in for some big fish. Four fishing lines trail in the water. We trawl. We have some coffee. We chat. John tells me that his last client, a South African, caught two 45-kilogram perch. Cormorants eye us from the rock buoys. Pelicans hover overhead and local fishermen in their dugout canoes wave to us. I suddenly feel self conscious and spoiled in our 27ft, 180hp boat.

Johnny puts me on rock detail. Lake Victoria, although the second largest freshwater lake in the world, is tremendously shallow. I have heard too many stories about boats hitting rocks at high speed, ejecting their passengers into the drink, and take my rock-watch seriously, peering into the shining waters. Nothing. No rocks, no fish. Just the hypnotic thrum-thrum of the engine and the slap of waves against the bow. We pull in our lines and head to another spot. It's 9:30 and the sun is getting strong. The men start grumbling. I hear something about women jinxing fishing trips and ignore it. I am thoroughly enjoying myself: the fresh air, the verdant tropical islands, the otters and the bird life and don't really care about the fish at all.

A Fish Eagle calls its piercing cry - a sound I have grown to love and identify as one of the true sounds of Africa - and a mid-morning nap beckons, when suddenly ZZZingg! The line on the port side is running and we scramble out of our reverie to reel in the other lines.

I'm too slow, snag my lure on another line, and a giant tangle ensues. Thankfully the fish is patient and allows us to untangle ourselves and bring him in: eight kilos of handsome Nile perch. He went for an extraordinary lure - lurid pink with black spots, aka the "quick fish". We cut him loose, let him go and have a beer. It's only 10:30, but we deserve it.

Suddenly another fish is on and this time my response is much faster. It gets away before we get him in (must have been huge!). We opt for another spot and whizz past islands and small local fishing villages to a windswept knoll off Kome island. It feels like Scotland but instead of sheep and puffins, vervet monkeys, Little egrets and bright yellow weaver birds share the shale cliffs.

We have lunch and investigate different lures. The boat bobs up and down while we enjoy spicy samosas and cold beer in the sunshine. Four fish so far. The wind picks up as we motor along to our next spot - a secret little island that Johnny and John both swear by - and the waves get bigger. One comes right up and hits me in the face and despite the shock, I surprise myself by laughing out loud. Yep, I'm still having fun. We find the island (more like a rock with a tree on it). This area is different - palm trees on neighbouring islands bend right over the water's edge, shading sandy beaches. A veritable tropical idyll. I feel like I'm in a movie. I put on a rapala lure, a "super shad rap" which looks like a small perch, and drop it over the side.

Damn, we've caught the bottom. I lazily get up to reel in my line and feel a tug. And another, but this time much bigger. "I've got one!" I shriek, and for the next twenty minutes strain to bring in the fighter, lurching all over the boat, switching from port to starboard and back to port again. And then the line goes slack.

"He's going to jump! Keep your rod up and keep that line tight!" Johnny and John shout in unison.

And suddenly a massive, beautiful Nile perch leaps out of the water, twisting and fighting and splashing. I keep the rod up and, after another ten minutes of gritted teeth and manic winding, I have it in, all 35 kilograms of silvery, shuddering fish. We admire him, cut him loose and watch him swim away.

Jinx indeed! It was the biggest of the day, and I still haven't managed to wipe the grin off my face.

Canada-born Pamela Kertland Wright is a freelance writer and tour operator based in Kampala.

FISHING Factfile

Fishing
Fishing trips on Lake Victoria can be arranged out of Kampala or Entebbe. Day excursions with a reliable boat and skipper/guide cost approximately US$300-US$400. Overnight stays at the Ssesse Islands can also be arranged at approximately $310 per day, per person. Two companies offer fishing trips: Semliki Safaris and Wild Frontiers.

Accommodation
Accommodation on the islands is basic but comfortable.

Published in Travel Africa Edition Nine: Autumn 1999Text is subject to Worldwide Copyright (c)