When the River Speaks: How Flooding Affects Tiger Fishing at Kubu & Kwena

A Season of Extremes

January brought us some of the finest tiger fishing we’ve seen in years. Our Tiger Hour — the time it takes to land a tigerfish — sat at an electrifying 46 minutes. (you can read more on this)  That meant, for every 46 minutes spent out on the water, someone in a boat was fighting the catch of a lifetime.

But the Zambezi, like all wild things, has moods.

In March, she rose. Hard!

We watched the water surge nine feet almost overnight as the river responded to rains upriver. The floodplain, usually generous, became unpredictable. The Tiger Hour slowed dramatically — at one point reaching nearly 3 hours per fish. For passionate anglers, it was a tough stretch. For guides, a test of patience. For the fish? A playground of new, shifting patterns.

So… When Is the Best Time to Fish?

Here’s what we’ve come to understand after seasons spent listening to the river:

• Just before or after a major shift in water level — whether rising or falling — often brings a burst of activity. It seems the fish respond to irregularity.
• Barometric pressure changes also play a role. Stable high-pressure days tend to outperform those with sudden drops or spikes.
• And perhaps most importantly, consistency matters. Once the river settles, so does the fishing.

The mistake many make is looking for a perfect window. But tiger fishing isn’t about perfection. It’s also not called “catching” but “fishing”. Catching is the bonus, and fishing is the natural experience, the beautiful moments and unforgettable stories, disconnected from tech, reconnecting with friends, brothers, and sons. It’s about timing, feel, and understanding the pulse of the place. We’ve been tracking and recording these patterns, and while no season is identical, certain truths emerge.

Right Now: Fishing is Picking Up Again

(Mid May 2025)

As the floodwaters ease, so does the tension on the line. The Tiger Hour is climbing back — currently around 90 minutes, right on trend with the average for this time of year over the past two seasons.

And the joy? It’s back.

Laughter on the boats. Tails breaking the surface. Stories retold around the fire over something cold and earned. We’re watching guests land dream fish. Not because the river owes them — but because they showed up, trusted the rhythm, and cast again.