The Analogy of flyfishing to good business strategy and market penetration Ari Seiris I grew up in Ladysmith in the late 60's and from a young age, as soon as my father had developed a network with some other working professionals in the small town and got to know some of the farmers, I had the opportunity to be invited as a 'laaitie' to fish bass on their farms, while my mom and dad relaxed on the farmer’s porch sipping G&T and beer and planning development, debating politics and arguing about sport.
be the shoot 'skivvie' on the same farms I fished. My Dad was popular with the farmers, not a great shot but a great sport and always told a great story. He was known as “Big Hunter” for not being so accurate, but great fun. In 1972 I was sent off to Highbury Preparatory School in Hillcrest. I thought my fishing days were over. How wrong I was; the journey was just beginning.
The dams were full of bass and anything you threw in the water worked as bait. Bread balls with Bovril, earthworms, c r i c k e t s , grasshoppers and a rubber lure. I am not sure whether we could not afford rapala or if they were not around but everything seemed to get the attention of the Nambiti bass. I caught many, kept them all, filled up the deep freeze and never embraced the concept of “release”.
During my school holidays I could fish bass in any dam I wanted; the farmers loved me, as it was an essential culling of their fish. The dams were always brimming full. In my senior year at Highbury (Standard 6 in 1975), I joined the fly-fishing club under the stewardship of Mr. Pennington and the expertise of the maestro, Jack Blackman.
It was the greatest fun I had as a kid, actually equalling the guinea fowl shooting Sundays when I would retrieve the birds and
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