Graham Hayward describes life as a guide in some of the planet’s most exciting and exclusive destinations, living the dream of many young fly-fishers
I CAME to love fishing while growing up in Zimbabwe. My father ran a hotel with a trout lake, and I spent hours catching fish in the stock ponds.
We moved to Rutland, in England, when I was young and stayed there until I was 12. After a couple of years back in Zimbabwe, we returned to Rutland and eventually settled there. Those early years gave me a taste of all sorts of fishing, from trout and coarse fish in the UK to tigerfish back in Africa. I never imagined it could become a career.
So, while friends were preparing for university, I headed to the Seychelles instead
As a teenager, I learned that people made a living guiding anglers in destinations such as the Seychelles. Seeing the incredible fish being caught there sparked something in me. It looked like the ultimate lifestyle. A friend of mine worked in the Seychelles and managed to vouch for me, and an opportunity followed.
Graham Hayward grew up in Zimbabwe and England and is now living an intrepid life in some of the world’s finest fly-fishing destinations.
So, while friends were preparing for university, I headed to the Seychelles instead. Looking back, it was probably the easiest decision I've ever made.
I started on Alphonse Island, the main hub for fly-fishing operations. My first season gave me a taste of everything the islands had to offer and confirmed that I'd found what I wanted to do.
I then guided on more remote outer atolls, including Poivre, Astove, Cosmo and Farquhar, and finally settled at Providence.
In the Seychelles, my season typically runs from September through to May, so that's eight or nine months of the year spent living and working on the water.
The outer atolls are some of the most remote places in the world that you can fish. Some don't have lodges, so we live aboard a catamaran that acts as our floating base camp. Last season, ours was an 85-footer with room for six guests, three guides and four crew members, including a captain, chef and host.
The Seychelles is probably the most expensive place in the world to learn how to cast
A typical day starts around 7am. We'll be fishing by 8am — packed lunches in hand — and we'll stay out until around 5pm. Back at the boat, we have what we call the bell-ringing ceremony, during which we celebrate the day's catches before sitting down for dinner together.
To most, it probably sounds like paradise. In many ways it is. But guiding isn't a holiday. The days are long, the heat can be relentless, and you're constantly focused on helping others.
Most people assume guides spend all day catching fish themselves, but the reality is different. We rarely fish. The challenge is helping someone else catch their dream fish. That's what I enjoy most about the job.
I can look at a fish and think, “I know I could catch that, but how do I get my client to catch it?” Every angler is different. Some arrive with years of saltwater experience behind them. Others turn up with the plastic wrap still on their rods and have only ever fished for trout.
That's why I always encourage people to have casting lessons before they travel. The Seychelles is probably the most expensive place in the world to learn how to cast.
Guiding is as much about people as it is about fish. If a guest misses a fish, it may have been their only real opportunity of the day. My job is to keep them positive and focused. You can't let them dwell on mistakes. No matter what's happening in your own life, you must show up every day with energy and enthusiasm.
The mental side of the job is often overlooked. You must read people, understand what motivates them, know when to push them and when to help them relax. Some anglers need a confidence boost; others need calming down. Getting that balance right can be just as important as spotting fish.
People often ask me how difficult it is to catch a giant trevally or a permit. The truth is that it can be incredibly hard, but sometimes it can be surprisingly easy too. I always tell guests that there's one out there for everyone.
I've seen anglers catch fish they had no right to catch. Sometimes, you find the right fish in the right mood and a decent cast with a little bit of luck is all it takes. Fish have personalities too. Some are aggressive, some are curious and some just seem determined to eat whatever lands in front of them.
My mum came to visit. She cast at what we thought was a shoal of mullet and ended up hooking a permit — her first-ever fish on a fly! You couldn't have scripted it.
When the fishing day is over, the job isn't finished. We'll spend time with guests over dinner and a few drinks. Building relationships is a big part of guiding. It's rewarding when someone returns a couple of years later and you remind them of the fish they caught and the stories you shared.
The seasons fit perfectly, giving me a short break before heading off again
On the more remote operations, there are just a handful of us living and working together. You become very close. After a day on the water, we'll debrief, share stories and enjoy a couple of beers before doing it all again the next morning.
I'm taking over as head guide at Providence next season, which is an exciting step. It's a role that comes with more responsibility, but after several years in the Seychelles, it feels like a natural progression.
When the Seychelles season ends, I swap tropical flats for salmon rivers. For the last three years, I've guided in Norway and, more recently, on Iceland's famous East Ranga. The seasons fit perfectly, giving me a short break before heading off again.
One of the most nerve-wracking fish I've ever guided someone to was a 21kg salmon on Norway's Lakselva River. We nearly lost it several times. The pool had a huge, submerged log in the middle of it. At one point, the angler thought the fish had come off, but the line had wrapped around the rod tip, and I was sprinting downstream trying to sort everything out. When we finally landed it, I was shaking as much as he was!
Moments like that are what make guiding so addictive. It's not necessarily about the fish itself; it's about being part of someone else's unforgettable experience.
People often ask how they can get into guiding. My advice is to be persistent — don't send one email and expect someone to offer you a job. Keep trying, keep putting yourself out there and make sure people remember your name when an opportunity does come up.
I was only 19 when I started in the Seychelles, and I still feel incredibly lucky to be doing this job. It's physically demanding and keeps you away from home for long periods, but I can't imagine doing anything else. Helping people catch the fish of a lifetime in some of the most beautiful places on Earth is more than enough.
PHOTOGRAPHY: GRAHAM HAYWARD ILLUSTRATION: SARAH PHILLIPS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Graham Hayward
Graham Hayward is based in the county of Rutland, England, but spends much the year guiding clients in the Seychelles and on Icelandic rivers. When at home, he’s often found chasing big trout on his local reservoir.
