I have just returned from a visitation to Alphonse Island, where the purpose of the trip was to learn about updates to the operation and to meet new team members. Traditionally, my trips are to more exotic locations that I have yet to see firsthand, rather than somewhere I lived for several seasons, so many questioned why I made the trip. The answer is that Alphonse is perhaps the fastest-evolving operation I focus on, and having the ability to speak to its intricacies is crucial since it’s also where we send the most people.
Quite often, Alphonse is referred to as the most established fishing destination in the Seychelles, so it doesn’t carry the same mystique as the outer islands as a result. By no means am I here to say that this is the best option for everyone to consider, but if you are looking for a very well-rounded trip to the Seychelles where you can encounter all the special species the Indian Ocean has to offer, then look no further. Because of this, I decided to create a goal for myself: to catch the “Big 5” during my time fishing on St. Francois Atoll (the neighboring atoll to Alphonse where all fishing packages operate during the week), though not necessarily in one day—which is possible and referred to as the Golden Grand Slam. The “Big 5” species are bonefish, triggerfish, Indo-Pacific permit, milkfish, and giant trevally, though of course I was willing to target anything else that presented an opportunity, as that’s the fun of fishing over there.
I was honored to be paired with Kyle Simpson as my guide for the week. He has been a great friend since my time guiding over there, so our minds think quite alike when we’re on the water. What’s so cool about returning to Alphonse/St. Francois is that the fish still make very predictable movements around the atoll, so each day we bounced ideas off each other about what our next move should be based on the tide. I should also mention that Kyle was one of my main partners in crime when developing the Alphlexo Crab since we both have a permit obsession, and it’s been great to see how he has continued to evolve it with the current team.
We set out to St. Francois on the afternoon of my arrival day after hearing from the guides that milkfish were feeding—an opportunity you never want to pass up. Upon arrival, however, the high tide stalled, dispersing the plankton, and the milkfish spread out to a point where they weren’t worth fishing anymore. Thankfully, high tide also creates great opportunities to find fish focused around the high spots of the atoll, either sheltering from predators or hunting for an easy meal. We poled into a very well-known area inside the lagoon called East Knoll, a sand dune of sorts that fish love to gather around at peak tide. We approached from the backside—a shallow flat—first looking for permit feeding among giant shoals of bonefish and mullet. To our surprise, there were no fewer than 20 lemon sharks on the perimeter of the shoals, so we decided that hooking a permit would likely be a short story and switched gears to prepare for a potential GT.
As we poled closer to the lagoon edge where East Knoll sits, we began seeing blitzing trevallies feeding on bait and knew our first great shot was coming. The sun was getting low enough to be blinding when looking toward the feeding fish, so I fired a long cast in hopes they would find my fly. About two strips in, a big silver fish smashed the fly, and we landed it quickly to avoid any encounters with the sharks we’d seen earlier. The first fish of the Big 5 was complete, and we headed back to Alphonse to enjoy some cold Sey Brews and plan for the following day.
Day two was a bit different, as we were accompanied by a new guide so both Kyle and I could pass on knowledge and help build his confidence. Each new guide starts as what we call a shadow guide, riding along with a veteran guide early in the season to learn the ropes and spend time with anglers. After showing promise, they go through a rigorous test to determine if they’re ready to guide independently. I always cherished running these tests, as they were a great opportunity to see how well you’ve taught the next generation—and often you end up learning something from them as well.
While finding fish may sound straightforward, safely navigating a skiff through the St. Francois lagoon is a feat in itself. Other important aspects of the test include evaluating decision-making based on tides and troubleshooting skiff issues, as you never know what can happen out there. No new guide is perfect out of the gate, and it’s important that they make a few mistakes each day in flat selection—this is how they learn to make better calls based on observation. We had a great day on the water with the shadow guide, and I had several shots at permit but only managed a couple of bonefish to hand. Had we focused solely on bonefish, we easily could have reached double digits, but it was important for him to see how to manage a day when an angler is chasing other species. The bright side is that I love catching bonefish, and number two of the Big 5 was complete.
On day three, Kyle and I started by looking for milkfish, which had been spotted outside the lagoon in large numbers alongside manta rays—a clear sign of abundant food. We ran along the outside of the atoll toward the infamous Lollipop shipwreck until we found a strong group of milks riding high on the surface. One major upgrade in recent years has been the transition to four-stroke Yamahas on the skiffs, allowing us to get much closer to milkfish than was ever possible with loud two-strokes. Kyle positioned me perfectly, casting perpendicular to the feeding line, and every cast felt like it could be the one.
It took about 45 minutes to finally hook a fish, which is just part of the process when fishing to a filter feeder. I had great runs before getting the fish boatside, but just as Kyle went for the net, the fly popped free and we watched the milkfish slide back into the deep. While we could have counted it, we both agreed we needed it in hand to truly check it off the list. By the time we were ready to chase another, the currents had subsided and the fish had mostly disappeared.
Knowing the tide would drop quickly due to the recent full moon, we headed inside the lagoon to try a finger flat for triggerfish before the current really started ripping. Triggerfish don’t love spring-tide finger flats due to the strong current, which can feel like a river at peak flow. We jumped onto Milky Way Finger and poled west. For those unfamiliar, finger flats are long, thin strips of coral and turtle grass that span the lagoon and are excellent for finding tailing fish—though you never know what might appear.
As we moved slowly, scanning for peach-colored blobs (my best description of triggers), we noticed several black tails flopping on the surface near a shallow coral head. We both knew immediately—we’d stumbled into the Cappell Shoal. Named after the first angler to encounter it, this rare sighting consists of seven or eight nurse sharks accompanied by massive black GTs. Nerves were high as I carefully placed a cast and let the fly settle before beginning a slow retrieve. These GTs are almost trance-like around the sharks, and matching their pace is critical.
After a few slow strips, what looked like a 120-cm fish began tracking the fly, and you could hear a pin drop. Out of nowhere, a 72-cm GT rocketed in and stole the fly. While we were happy to land another GT, we definitely cursed his timing. After landing the fish, the group faded away, and we knew the opportunity was gone.
I took the next day off the water to spend time on the island learning about new developments to share with future guests. The effort Blue Safari has put into improving the guest experience is incredible. The biggest news is the transition to an all-inclusive model, now covering a wide selection of beer, wine, spirits, soft drinks, and activities like snorkeling and sundowner cruises aboard the Amani mothership. They’ve also launched a surf program with two instructors on site, which—while not included—is a great addition given the quality breaks nearby.
The beach bar at the end of the runway continues to evolve, now featuring a dining area in the coconut forest, with a second venue under construction. The most impressive part of my day was visiting the farm, which has reached a new level of sustainability and production—something close to my heart from studying it in college. They now operate multiple beehives producing up to 90 kg of honey per month and grow all produce for operations across Cosmoledo, Farquhar, Astove, Alphonse, and Providence. Plans are in place for a farm-to-table dining experience. Combined with the massive solar farm, it’s hard to think of another operation that has taken such meaningful steps toward reducing its footprint.
For the remainder of the week, we faced perhaps the most difficult fish yet: triggerfish. We searched tirelessly for what we call the “village idiot” trigger—rare fish that haven’t yet earned a master’s degree in fly refusal. Eventually, we found a group near the surf that seemed hungry. Surf-zone triggerfishing has challenges but also fewer escape routes. I pitched my Bed Head Fleeing Crab to a Mustache Triggerfish, which crushed it on a single strip. We landed it quickly—always the right move. After a celebratory Sey Brew, we pushed for one last chance at permit on the incoming tide.
After a long wait, batfish entered the flat, and soon after, a group of eight permit followed. Perfectly positioned, I made a quiet cast and watched the leader twitch as the fish ate on the drop. Nerves were high as we eased the fish away from coral and turtle grass, but Kyle made a flawless scoop. Permit landed. We celebrated with a night at the runway beach bar—the perfect ending.
On the final day, we returned to milkfish in calm conditions and hooked up quickly outside Fallujah. An hour-long battle later, we landed the fish and headed inside to tackle the finger flats again, landing both a Yellow Margin and a Picasso Triggerfish. While the full trigger slam eluded us, we were thrilled to have accomplished our goal.
This ended up being more of a play-by-play than a traditional overview, but it was such a great week that I couldn’t help sharing the story. Alphonse and St. Francois continue to blow my mind when the stars align, and they belong on your list—even if you’re a seasoned saltwater angler. While the outer islands may be trending, don’t forget that Alphonse is arguably the most consistent fishery of them all.
