The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine Issue #13 by The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine

ISSUE 13

JAN | FEB 2019

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THEMISSIONFLYMAG.COM

PENTZ PREDATOR, JEREMY BLOCK, TIGER MOTHER, CHASING NATIVES, ED HERBST, BEERS, BEATS & MORE

experience counts for everything Some of the most dedicated anglers we know are women, and T&T Ambassador Abbie Schuster is at the forefront of her generation of pro guides. Whether hosting trips, crushing albies on the Vineyard, or at the oars on a New England tailwater, her experience and insight helps us to approach rod design with a unique perspective. Abbieâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s knowledge, expertise, and understanding are passed to our craftsmen, who strive for perfection and uncompromising performance in every rod we make. To us, Abbie and her fellow professionals are our unsung heroes. We salute you.

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CONTENTS Cover: Up close and personal in the makings of a Pentz Predator reel. Photo Ross Garrett

22 HIGH 5S Guide Gareth Reid on European nymphing methods, getting drilled by tigers and how to be lekker 28 CHASING NATIVES A Motivational Carrot, a cross country mission and a bevy of native trout species with Cameron Cushman 42 THE HERO Peter Coetzee tracks down broadbill swordfish pioneer Jeremy Block in Kenya 54 THE ENGINEER WHO STARTED A CULT Jeff Tyser meets the man behind the iconic South African reel, the Pentz Predator 66 TIGER MOTHER Mocked by his mom, shunned by his peers and uninitiated in the ways of tigerfish, Tudor Caradoc Davies off to the Chobe river to even a few scores

REGULAR FEATURES 08 Edâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Letter 12 Wishlist Fish 14 Beers & Beats 18 Munchies 20 Troubled Waters

Salad Bar 76 Payday 82 Shortcasts 84 Clobber 86 Lifer 94

Marcos Mazzola hops a stile in search of California golden trout. Photo Cameron Cushman

T U D O R CA R A D O C - DAV I ES

69 FLY FISHING RESOLUTIONS Y O U A B S O L U T E LY H AV E T O M A K E T H I S Y E A R Photo Ryan Janssens

his headline is a lie (aka false or misleading statement if you’re POTUS) designed to catch your eye. You see, I used to work for various men’s magazines - GQ, Best Life, Men’s Health etc, around the time the print world was attempting to come to grips with the digital tsunami. As the media industry went from seeing digital as irrelevant to seeing it as a threat to understanding it as a tool, brands gradually got off their high horses and, in an effort to stay relevant, began to embrace digital strategies. From the chunking of stories into bite-sized portions for distracted readers to the “What Happens Next Will Shock You” clickbait phenomenon and my personal favourite – listicles, aka the dredging up of random numbers to promote a story. “15 Sex Moves You’re Getting Wrong!” “23 Ways to get Ripped Fast!” “47 Style Upgrades!” It didn’t really matter what the number was, we were encouraged to count any arbitrary factoid (on the off chance anyone every bothered to challenge us) and rack ‘em up. The powers that be had the done the R&D and the stats showed that people respond to these random numbers and clickbaitey titles, especially if they are placed in the top left, bottom left and top right spaces of a magazine cover. What’s mass market magazine trickery got do with fly fishing?

Well, while we believe the pendulum has swung from clickbait listicles (you may have noticed we eschew the ‘32 new ways to tie Wooly Buggers’ approach) in favour of telling stories, if I went back to my old habits it would be simple, scanning this issue, to source the 69 fly fishing resolutions promised above. From chasing golden freshwater ‘tarpon’ in the Orinoco river to drinking whiskey from a secret flask built into a landing net, spending a day on the Western Cape streams (and reliving the action while smashing soutribbetjies at night), visiting the incredible Batoka Gorge, taking on a rare native species challenge, discovering the craftsmanship of really well-made products, experiencing the alien magic of a fluorescent broadbill swordfish, or absorbing a pearl or three of wisdom from legends of fly fishing, I could go on. Instead, I’ll leave you with a quote from the late great Anthony Bourdain, which could just be the one resolution from which all adventures, stories and memories come. “If I’m an advocate for anything, it’s to move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. The extent to which you can walk in someone else’s shoes or at least eat their food, it’s a plus for everybody. Open your mind, get up off the couch, move.” Words to live and fish by this year and for however much time you’ve got left on this planet.

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Pink flies are to billfish what laser beams are to cats. Change our minds. Photo c/o the Jeremy Block archive.

EDITOR Tudor Caradoc-Davies ART DIRECTOR Brendan Body CONTACT THE MISSION The Mission Fly Fishing Mag (PTY) Ltd 20 Malleson Rd, Mowbray, 7700, Cape Town, South Africa Info@themissionflymag.com www.themissionflymag.com

EDITOR AT LARGE Conrad Botes COPY EDITORS Gillian Caradoc-Davies ADVERTISING SALES tudor@themissionflymag.com brendan@themissionflymag.com

THE MISSION IS PUBLISHED 6 TIMES A YEAR. THE MISSION WILL WELCOME CONTENT AND PHOTOS. WE WILL REVIEW THE CONTRIBUTION AND ASSESS WHETHER OR NOT IT CAN BE USED AS PRINT OR ONLINE CONTENT. THE OPINIONS EXPRESSED IN THIS MAGAZINE ARE NOT NECESSARILY THOSE OF THE MAGAZINE OR ITS OWNERS. THE MISSION IS THE COPYRIGHT OF THE MISSION FLY MAG (PTY) LTD. ANY DUPLICATION OF THIS MAGAZINE, FOR MEDIA OR SALE ACTIVITY, WILL RESULT IN LEGAL ACTION AND DEATH BY BROADBILL SWORDFISH.

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CONTRIBUTORS #13 Peter Coetzee, Jeff Tyser, Beto Mejia, Kyle Knight, Cameron Cushman, Fred Davis, Leonard Flemming, Ed Herbst PHOTOGRAPHERS #13 Ross Garett, Peter Coetzee, Jeremy Block, Ryan Janssens, Aaron Reed, Spencer Whelan, Kyle Knight, Sean Edington, Conrad Botes, Charlie Con, Cameron Cushman, Marcos Mazzola, Ingrid Caradoc-Davies, Tim Davis, Leonard Flemming, Sean Mills

@THEMISSIONFLYMAG

Instinct by design. Days on the flats can be a wild ride of slow hunting punctuated by adrenaline pumping action unfolding at warp speed. When the opportunity comes to intercept prehistoric poons, or to psychoanalyze neurotic permit, your instinct kicks in. And thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the moment you take your place on the bow and make the improbable possible. We designed Meridian fly rods with a similar mindset. At the core of it all is the kind of fine tuned performance that comes with 45 years of innovation and experience. The result? Something akin to effortlessness, something intuitive. Take a Meridian along on your next saltwater journey, and fire on instinct. Colorado, USA | 970-249-3180 | scottflyrod.com

WISH LIST FISH

SARDINATA A G O L D E N F R E S H W AT E R TA R P O N T H AT S C H O O L S T O G E T H E R , WORKS ITSELF INTO A FEEDING FRENZY AND SMASHES POPPERS!?! YES PLEASE. BETO MEJIA (PICTURED HERE) FROM FISH COLUMBIA O P E N E D T H E C A N O N T H E M Y S T E R I O U S S A R D I N ATA .

hat: The Sardinata, aka Apapá, aka Pellona castelnaeana, aka the golden tarpon of our wet dreams. Related to sardines, herring and yes, tarpon, sardinata are however, an exclusively freshwater species. Mejia says, “They occur in the Orinoco and Amazon rivers. The max recorded size in this area is 23 pounds but the IGFA record is 12 pounds. It has a keel down its belly that is extremely sharp. It’s very difficult to get a good hook-set on this fish.” Where: Orinoco River and Amazon River basins. Mejia and Fish Colombia

Vote for Beto! Beto O’Rinoco Mejia.

target this species in the rapids of an incredibly productive mid-section of the Orinoco River. Mejia says,“ If targeted specifically on fly you can expect up to five sardinata of 6-12 pounds per day mixed in with many payara (aka vampire fish) as well as bicuda.” How: On the gear front Mejia says, “A 7 or 8-weight fly rod with sink tip lines for streamer work. One of the most beautiful game fish in the Orinoco, sardinata are extremely aggressive. They are usually caught on 8-12cm streamers and small poppers. Orange, firetiger, red head

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and blue head flies are standard for sardinata. A floating line is also used when fishing surface flies. Small poppers and Dahlberg divers can be extremely productive.” Who: Fish Colombia runs expeditions on the Orinoco and Tuparro Rivers focused on peacock bass (from 10-22lb) and payara (20lb plus are possible). But, if golden freshwater tarpon bycatch is your thing, you also stand a decent chance of sardinata while going for payara in the rapids. www.fishcolombia.com

Distributed by Xplorer Fly fishing - www.xplorerflyfishing.co.za Email: jandi@netactive.co.za or call 031-564-7368 for your closest dealer.

THE RIGHT LINE

for every cruising, tailing bonefish. DIRECTCORE BONEFISH RIO’s DirectCore Bonefish line has a long head and rear taper to smooth out the loop, and to make long efficient casts, while the mid length front taper produces great turnover and easy presentation of typical bonefish flies. Each line is built on RIO’s low-memory DirectCore that is extremely easy to stretch and lies perfectly straight on the water, yet retains the stiffness needed to cast in hot conditions. A high floating coating ensures the running line will not sink when wading.

FODDER

BEERS AND BEATS

Davin skipped the fish-catching part and went straight to the celebratory libations. Photo Aaron Reed

THE FLASK – HEART WOOD TRADE What happens when you take a whiskey distiller like Davin Toppel of Real Spirits Distilling and a hand-crafted custom landing net maker like Dustin Scott of awardwinning Texas-based outfit Heart Wood Trade? You get a one-of-a-kind landing net collaboration, that’s what. ‘Kasper’ the net is no ordinary net. Made out of charred whiskey staves, wenge, lacewood and padauk, the net is both an eye-catcher and a fish catcher, but it also holds a secret. On Davin’s request, Dustin built a flask into the handle in honour of Davin’s grandfather Kasper, who sometimes he had a little whiskey both in him and on him. So, whether he’s celebrating a great fish, drowning his sorrows at blanking or toasting the sun, Davin’s always got a shot or two of fine Texas Hill Country whiskey (from Real Spirits no doubt) at hand. For more on this story check out whiskeyriverchronicle.wordpress.com Photo Dustin Scott

Listen to ‘The Whiskey Cabinet,’ Davin and Dustin’s combined playlist.

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THE BEER – SQUIRREL NUT JUICE A collaboration between Stellenbosch Brewing Co. Terbodore Coffee Roasters and an American ally, Squirrel Nut Juice Nutty Brown Ale contains no actual squirrel juice (as far as we know), but it is brewed with a special roast of almond-toasted, cold-pressed coffee beans and aged on a bed of amaretto-soaked wood chips. Swoon.

Founder Brewer of Stellenbosch Brewery, Bruce Collins says, “You should find these beers extremely complex yet approachable and easy-drinking. It is a well balanced mix of almond nuttiness, roasted coffee and a woody, hoppy finish. We worked on this recipe for well over a year in collaboration with our partners, Terbodore Coffee Roasters, and the cicerone certified brewer, Joey Johnson, hailing out of Virginia USA. We wanted to create a beer which had never been done before, that is fun, whimsical, crazy, out of the woods nutty but one which still remains true and authentic to our brand and our location in beautiful Stellenbosch. We have a unique love for squirrels.” Ok then. Expect a rich coffee flavour, balanced nuttiness and a smooth oak/hop finish. ABV: 5.5%. stelliesbeer.com

THE BEATS – GREG LOMAS

One half of film crew Scholars & Gentlemen (who shot our Trevor Sithole video in issue 2), Greg Lomas is always on the cutting edge of what’s cool. Hipsters want to be him, but by the time they catch up, he’s moved on. He came up with this playlist while lying in bed at 11am on a Wednesday morning using his Bose headphones, sipping (from a handmade ceramic cup) his home-brewed cortado made with beans from caracal poop and milk from his permaculture goat tethered in the yard. When he’s not playing his lute or making award-winning documentaries, like To Skin a Cat (www.toskinacat.org), you’ll find him catching trout in the Natal Midlands. The perfect playlist for heading into the hills on a trout-hunting mission, he discovered many of these bands before they had even formed. It’s a cracker. Enjoy.

TRACK LIST When I Get to Heaven - John Prine Wasting Time - Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats Leap - The Cave Singers Sycamore - Bill Callahan One Trick Ponies - Kurt Vile New Birth in New England - Phosphorescent Humbug Mountain Song - Fruit Bats John the Gun - Hiss Golden Messenger Grand Isle, Louisiana - Ben Dickey Out of Tune - Real Estate Dark Child - Marlon Williams King of a One Horse Town - Dan Auerbach Destroyer - Kevin Morby Baby You’re Out - Mac DeMarco Lost Coastlines - Okkervil River Old Friends - Pinegrove Abandoned Flesh - The Mountain Goats Friday I’m In Love - Yo La Tengo You Are My Face - Wilco Baltimore - Bonus Track - The Felice Brothers

Greg Lomas - CLICK HERE TO LISTEN

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MUNCHIES

SOUT RIBBETJIES WITH SALSA VERDE (GROEN SOUS) LIKE APRÈS-SKI, APRÈS-FISH IS SERIOUS BUSINESS. CHEF K Y L E K N I G H T O F T H E S H O P I N S E A P O I N T, CA P E T O W N , W E I G H S I N O N H I S G O -T O M U N C H I ES A F T E R A D AY O N THE STREAMS. METHOD • Generously salt ribs and put over a medium heat, fat side down. • Meanwhile, wash the herbs and get all other ingredients prepared (except olive oil and vinegar) and place into food processor. Alternatively, hand chop. Blend until medium paste and pour into bowl, then add oil and vinegar. • Cook the ribs on either side until nice and caramelized, finally ending on the bone side. Let them rest and give them a good squeeze of lemon and slather them in green sauce. • They go well with potatoes, salad and veggies

“My name is Kyle Knight and I am the Chef / Owner of THE SHOP in Seapoint, Cape Town. We are an everyday eatery serving local, sustainably sourced produce. Our menu changes daily according to what’s available. “When it comes to fly fishing, I cut my teeth on the Vaal River chasing yellowfish. It’s still one of my favourite places to fish and even better when in the company of my father and brother - we have had some crazy sessions on that river! These days I find myself on the Cape streams - whenever I get a free morning from the restaurant that is. It’s truly a magical place and I feel very privileged to be able to fish there. “If you’re like me and enjoy a good solid day’s fishing, then what you will be having for dinner is the last thing on your mind. Possibly the only thought, other than the next run or lie, are those ice cold beers you will be smashing afterwards. But after beer, your mind turns to grub. My go-to meal after a day on the water is crispy lamb ribs (sout ribbetjies) with loads of fat and salt, cooked over a lekker bed of coals while I down those frosties. They are super easy to get, your local butcher or supermarket should always have some nicely cut and ready to go. Along with the ribbetjies l always have a salsa verde (aka green sauce on our menu at THE SHOP). This powerful little herb sauce is great for anything fatty. It can last in the fridge for a few day and works a charm when slapped on a sarmie or with crackers and cheese. theshoprestaurant.co.za

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INGREDIENTS Lamb ribs x 500g Maldon salt Good solid fire Cold beers

GREEN SAUCE Flat leaf parsley x 50g Mint x 50g Garlic cloves x 2 Dijon mustard x 1tsp Capers x 2tsp Anchovy x 2 fillets Olive oil x 150ml Red wine vinegar x 30 ml Salt x a pinch

T R O U B L E D WAT E R S

THE BATOKA GORGE Photo Sean Edington

The Water The mighty Zambezi River, specifically the Batoka Gorge below Victoria Falls. Aside from the Falls being one of the seven wonders of the natural world, the gorge below them is an area that attracts thousands of visitors each year for the white water rafting, the rare bird sightings (e.g. the Taita falcon) and even some decent fishing for tigerfish, yellowfish (Labeobarbus codringtonii) and Nkupe. The Wankers Hydro-electric power by way of the Batoka Dam. The project is a joint nightmare devised by the Zambian and Zimbabwean governments to generate much needed power for their countries. We cannot argue with that need, but, when there are other more sustainable options that do not cause damage to the environment and the tourism industry, it boggles the mind that a project like this gets the green light despite all the negatives. Marie-Louis Kellett of Save the Zambezi River action group, says of the Batoka Dam, “The formal EIA (Environmental Impact Assessment) process started a few years ago and then came to a halt. It has not been restarted and it looks like both countries want to push the project through for some reason (political no doubt). The dam (built to generate hydroelectric power) would flood the Batoka Gorge below the falls and would end all multi day river rafting trips as well as shorten the day trip. There is even talk of it impacting the gorge all the way up to the falls.” Africa Program Director for International Rivers, Rudo Sanyanga, puts it into perspective. “Damming Batoka Gorge is like damming the Grand Canyon. It is our heritage that we will lose and the damage is irreversible. In the face of climate change, it is insane to keep investing in large hydro on the Zambezi River basin, a region vulnerable to extreme multi-year droughts and floods that occur nearly every decade. Drought-induced power shortages are likely to increase according to climate change predictions. The Batoka Gorge Hydro dam will cost upwards of US$4 billion dollars to build - a huge amount beyond what both Zambia and Zimbabwe can afford. Zambia is facing a high risk of “debt distress” and Zimbabwe is already in “debt distress”, meaning it is in default on loans to multilateral institutions. In light of this level of debt risk why do both countries wish to indebt their citizens further? Why is the World Bank even putting in resources to carry out technical studies for such a project?” Why indeed? When you look at the established environmental and ecological destruction caused by hydro-power projects, the debt these countries will incur, the looming longterm unemployment in the region when the tourism industry dwindles and the relatively small power gains (two power stations with a combined capacity of 1600MW) – the Batoka Dam is a slow motion environmental and economic train wreck driven by two conductors who are actively shooting themselves in both feet for good measure. The Way Forward Kellett says, “We are busy pulling together a campaign - International Rivers (www.internationalrivers.org) and International Rafting Federation (www.internationalrafting.com) will be driving it. First step is for as many people as possible to register as ‘Interested and Affected parties’ with the environmental consultants and send in objections. You can do that by emailing Nadia Mol on batokagorgehes@ erm.com. Also give the ‘Save the Zambezi’ Facebook page a like to stay informed (www.facebook.com/SaveTheZambezi) and share their posts as widely as possible.”

One day soon, all this could be gone, underwater in an ill-advised hydro scheme.

GUIDES

HIGH 5S FROM THE ZAMBEZI FOR TIGERFISH TO THE ANDAMANS FOR GTS AND T H E A M A Z O N F O R P E A C O C K B A S S , M AV U N G A N A F LY F I S H I N G ’ S GARETH REID GETS AROUND Photos: Conrad Botes, Charlie Con

5 best things about where you guide? 1. Meeting all types of really cool people from vastly different backgrounds. Add fly fishing into the mix and watch how friendships are made overnight. 2. Sitting around the fire, shooting the breeze and star-gazing after a great day out on the Lower Orange River. It’s one of my highlights 3. Whether guiding or hosting trips, I’ve had the privilege of experiencing some pretty wild and remote places. From the Andaman Islands and its spear-throwing cannibalistic tribes to the depths of the Amazon and its psychedelic peacock bass at Agua Boa River Lodge. 4. Watching someone getting drilled by their first proper tiger! Like a good friend recently said, “It’s like making love for the first time all over again”. He was smiling at me and it was just us on a boat so things got a little weird… 5. Getting thrashed around in the SA surf zone and working your ass off to get someone into their first saltwater fish. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea but I dig it. 5 fishing items you don’t leave home without before making a mission? 1. Camera gear. 2. Patagonia Stormfront Backpack. Old faithful. I love her dearly and she endures whatever I put her through. 3. Zeiss lens wipes. Clean sunglasses and camera lenses are nonnegotiable. 4. Repair kit. A small bag that can save the day if something breaks. 5. Wild Cooler. I like having a few beers in the evenings and complaining about it in the mornings. It’s an emotional roller coaster.

5 bands to listen to while on a road trip? 1. Kaleo. 2. Johnny Clegg. 3. Blitzen Trapper. 4. Alt J. 5. Alex Clare. 5 things you are loving right now? 1. Gurushots photography app. 2. Mr Robot on Netflix. 3. Narcos, Mexico on Netflix. That guy was a real bad ass. 4. Wilbur Smith’s Egyptian series books. 5. Our new inflatable drift boats. I would use one to go to the shops if I could. 5 indispensable flies for saltwater? 1. 3D SF Baitfish 2. Clouser 3. Maxi polar fibre Dog Breakfast tied by my main man, Raymond Mutumeri (Mavungana Flyfishing’s head fly-tyer). 4. Gurgler 5. Semper 5 indispensable flies for freshwater? 1. Pole Dancer. 2. Andino Deceiver. 3. Tuscan Double Bunny. 4. Dave’s Hopper. 5. Hare & Copper nymph. 5 favourite fly fishing destinations across SA? 1. Lower Orange River, Richtersveld – Drift boats and largies. I’m a fan. 2. Kosi Bay – I like the abuse. 3. Jozini – Tailing tigers in a stillwater. Enough said. 4. Sterkies – It’s a hopper kind of thing. 5. Middle Run – A secret spot I used

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to go to with my mates on the Vaal before it was full of poo. 5 favourite fly fishing destinations globally? 1. Agua Boa Lodge, Amazon. 2. Andaman Islands, India. 3. Osen Guard, Norway. 4. Chobe River, Botswana/Namibia. 5. Lower Zambezi, Zimbabwe. 5 of the most difficult guiding experiences so far? 1. Having eight guests that have never fly fished before. Ever. They came to Kosi Bay to learn. It was a massive challenge but we got on with it and, naturally, there were some great stories each evening at the dinner table. 2. Getting hammered by a massive storm where we sat for four days at the lodge. Eventually on the fifth day we decided to go out in the middle of the night and fish in the surf for five hours in a squall. It sucked. 3. A recent stint on the Middle Zambezi for three weeks in 45-degree heat, averaging three hours sleep a day and fines evenings every night. 4. Arriving at Manaus, Brazil customs after nearly 30 hours of travelling only to find out one of my guys had left his passport inside the terminal. They wouldn’t let us go back up. Three hours of sweating, swearing and broken Spanish and we got back to find it laying on the chair where he left it. Passports – You’ve got to triple check that shit. 5. Rescuing a client in a rip current after he decided he didn’t need to listen to the safety briefing. Yep, also Kosi Bay.

If his wife knew how Gareth Reid looked at a spotted grunter, she would be jealous.

5 flies to pack (in the smuggler kit under your driver’s seat) to cover most species? 1. Small olive and grey bucktail clouser. 2. PTN with black nickel bead. 3. Klinkhamer. 4. Foam hopper. 5. Straggle Zonker. 5 people you would like to guide or fish with? 1. Andy Mill – A real salty dog and pioneer. 2. Metalhead/GeoBass – They don’t take life to seriously and know how to put a good film together. 3. Jimmy Carr – Love his work and it would be a gas spending a day with him on a boat. 4. Raymond Mutumeri – We always say we will, but never get around to doing it. I would dig to take him somewhere special. 5. My Dad. 5 fish on your species hit list? 1. Redfish – These fish have always appealed to me for some reason. They tail on the flats and like to eat flies. (At least they do in the brochure). 2. Golden dorado – The Tiger’s Malbec-drinking, Argentinian cousin. 3. Northern pike – Aggressive top water eating machines. I want. 4. Permit – Yes, yes. I need to see what all the fuss is about. 5. Tarpon – Has to be done 5 shower thoughts that have occurred to you while fly fishing? 1. Why Tigerfish can be such bitches. 2. Imagine travelling back in time to fish some of these destinations before we humans wrecked them. 3. Where did all those slip-slops come from on the high-tide mark? 4. I’m never drinking ever again. 5. Is it nearly beer time? 5 of the most underrated species in your book? 1. Garrick.

2. 3. 4. 5.

Kob. Bluefin trevally. Springer. Mullet.

5 destinations on your bucket list? 1. New Caledonia - Not going to say anything! 2. Cuba - Permit, tarpon and Havana Club Rum. 3. Bolivia – Insane jungles, rivers and of course dorado. 4. Providence – It looks so wild and untouched why would you not want to go? 5. Iceland – The landscape is crazy, the fish get huge and there is more water than you’ll know what to do with. 5 things you would take up if you weren’t always fly fishing? 1. I enjoy my golf but don’t have the time anymore so I’m pretty crap these days. 2. Photography – I would like to do more wildlife and landscape photography. 3. I’m amped to play club cricket again more seriously, but travelling gets in the way of weekly commitments. Again I’m pretty shit for the most part, so there’s no big loss there. 4. Running is a biggy. I don’t know why, but I do enjoy it. Trying to keep a routine with travelling makes it difficult. Plus, I’m lazy… and I like pizza. 5. Popping – put it this way, if there was no fly fishing that’s probably the next best thing to catching fish. 5 essential ingredients for an incredible mission? 1. New moon spring tides. 2. Hardy Fortuna XDS. 3. Virgin waters. 4. Braai Sarmies.* 5. Mates. 5 things about fly fishing that you may never understand? 1. Why fish don’t eat the popper every time? 2. Why mending a line feels so

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good? Poetic almost. 3. Small arbor reels – They don’t deserve to exist. 4. European nymphing methods – I’d rather stab my face with a rusty spoon. 5. Fellow guide Francois Botha’s fixation with fishing off a paddle board. He annoys me daily. 5 bits of advice for clients? 1. Don’t take life too seriously. When the chips are down and the fishing is tough, just take it in your stride and get on with it. Pressure is for car tyres not for fishing. 2. Challenge yourself to learn something new whenever you are out. If you think you already know it all you are missing the point entirely. 3. Spend as much time knowing how to correctly handle a fish as you do in catching it. For both your sakes. It’s kak** keeping a fish out of the water for too long and it’s lekker*** to have a cool picture to take home with you. Don’t be kak, be lekker! 4. Spend time researching your destination or, at the very least, read your pre-trip documentation. Knowing what weather to expect and what gear to pack ensures you put your best foot forward. 5. Most of the places we go to are insanely beautiful. Make a point of mixing things up a little. Go for a walk, check out the wildlife and appreciate your surroundings. The experience should be more than just catching fish. Your last five casts were to…. Tigers on the Middle Zambezi.

*A variation of a toasted sandwich with cheese, onion, tomato and bacon which is carefully toasted on a braai/barbeque while drinking beer. ** Kak – Afrikaans slang for not good *** Lekker – Afrikaans slang for very good

CHASING NATIVES IN 2017 WE RAN A COMPETITION WITH S W I F T F LY F I S H I N G , W H E R E A L U C K Y READER WON A ONE-OF-A-KIND EPIC 476 PA C K L I G H T F I B E R G L A S S R O D . A S L U C K W O U L D H AV E I T, T H E G U Y W H O W O N I T WA S C A M E R O N C U S H M A N , A D I Y F LY A N G L E R , G L A S S FA N , P H O T O G R A P H E R AND FILM MAKER FROM FLORIDA, USA. T H AT R O D , D U B B E D ‘ T H E M O T I VAT I O N A L C A R R O T,” A P P E A R E D T O W O R K I T S M A G I C ON CAMERON, BECAUSE HE AND A FRIEND M A R C O S , S E T O F F O N A FA N TA S T I C M I S S I O N – T O C H A S E N AT I V E T R O U T SPECIES ACROSS THE USA. THIS IS HIS A C C O U N T O F T H AT T R I P

Photos Cameron Cushman and Marcos Mazzola

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,992 miles, that’s how far we drove on our trout adventure across the USA in search of several species of native cutthroat trout, California golden trout, Kern River rainbows, and the Arizona Apache. We were not chasing big fish, we were chasing small fish, but many held good size for the waters we were targeting. Some would ask why we would spend the time, money, and all that energy racking up that many miles to search for such small fish when we could hit closer waters with bigger fish. Well, if you haven’t targeted small native trout in the areas they call home, then it might, at first, be hard to understand. Maybe the story of our journey will inspire you to do something similar. Sometimes, all you need is an opportunity. A few months before this trip I was contacted by the programme director of the Fly Fishers International Southern Council. He invited me up from Florida to speak at the Mountain Home Arkansas event about my DIY fly fishing for redfish, snook, tarpon and peacock bass, whether it be from shore or a rentable kayak. The event dovetailed perfectly with a trip to Colorado which my friend, Marcos Mazzola, and I had planned to chase Rio Grande cutthroat trout in their native range. While doing some planning I realized that we had ample time to spare, and we could knock off eight species of cutthroat trout: the Rio Grande, Greenback, Bonneville, Colorado River, Bear River, Yellowstone, Lahontan, and the West Slope cutthroat. In doing so, we would cover four states; Colorado, Utah, Montana, and California. First up – Utah. We waved goodbye to our homes in the Sunshine State (Florida) and two days later we arrived at the Rio Grande National Forest in Colorado in pursuit of our first species - the Rio Grande cutthroat. There we met up with our friend Eric, from Tennessee, who just happened to be in Colorado. Marcos was fishing with his 3-weight glass and I was throwing my Epic 476 Packlight, which I’d soon realised would be the best rod for all the conditions we were going to face on this trip. With low water levels this year the fishing in Colorado was far from easy. Most of the fish were stacked together in deeper pools throughout the creek and once the fly hit the water they either blew up on it or darted around in a panic. We quickly figured out that we would only have one or two shots at each pool before the fish would fully spook. Two alpine lakes, two streams, two flat tires (a common theme), and many great memories later, we had each caught several Rio Grande cutthroat trout and could make our way back into civilization briefly before heading out again. Our next location was a high alpine lake which held a hundred percent pure population of Greenback cutthroat, our next target species in Colorado. We set up camp and called it a night. We awoke early to cool temperatures and rigged our gear for the day. Once at the lake we were troubled to see that the rear section of the lake had started to freeze. It looked like we might be too late in the season. Regardless, we

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Marcos Mazzola on to a Rio Grande cutthroat with friend Eric Jeter on the net assist.

Left to right: Eric with a Rio Grande cutthroat, Marcos plays horsie while Anthony Guerrero inspects the putting green, Cameron Cushman with a Rio Grande cutthroat. 31

Above: Cameron Cushman with The Motivational Carrot. Right: Marcos Mazzola attempts a bow and arrow cast at some Lahontan cutthroats in Nevada.

“UTAH, THE LAND OF MORMONS, HONEY BEES, FIVE NATIONAL PARKS AND THE GREATEST SNOW ON EARTH, AT LEAST THAT’S WHAT THEY TELL ME.” fished our way around the entire lake but unfortunately our prediction was right. We didn’t see a single fish. So, in the hopes that some fish might be in the lake’s smaller outflow creek, we fished that, and sure enough we saw several little greenbacks shooting through. Finally, after about two hours, I managed to score the only Greenback cutthroat of the trip. We parted ways with Eric who was heading in another direction and we moved on to our next challenge the Utah Cutthroat Slam. Utah, the land of Mormons, honey bees, five National Parks and the greatest snow on earth, at least that’s what they tell me. Of all the things we were told about Utah, I think the only one we truly got to experience and see were the National Parks we drove past as we made our way to different parts of the state in search of its four native cutthroat trout strains. What were we in search of? The Bonneville cutthroat, the Colorado River cutthroat, the Bear River cutthroat, and the Yellowstone cutthroat. If you register for the Utah Cutthroat Slam on their website (www.utahcutthroatslam.org) and you manage to complete the challenge, you’ll get a sweet

certificate of completion and a really nice challenge coin. We figured if we were going to be in the state we might as well try our best to finish the challenge. Our first species was the Bonneville, which we managed to knock out very quickly just outside Salt Lake City on a small creek that followed a busy hiking and mountain biking road. With time still remaining in the day, we figured we could tick off our next species, the Colorado River cutthroat. This turned out to be a harder task than we thought. Not only were the roads in very bad condition for our vehicle, we also forgot to get gas before heading into the mountains. Forty miles away from the nearest gas station and two hours of dirt road later, we decided we would both worry about the gas issue and try to make it back out, after we had caught some fish. Walking down into the canyon we immediately started seeing cutthroats rising to the surface, but we just couldn’t get them interested in what we were throwing, so we continued to move upstream where we stumbled across a

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series of beaver ponds. It was game on from that point out, with a rise every cast. Marcos was throwing a size 16 purple Parachute Adams, which was the fly of the trip for him as he managed to catch every single species of the trip on it. I was throwing a size 14 rubber legged purple Stimulator which may have been a tad too big for the little guys as they were taking the big hits at it and missing. We each managed to catch about ten fish. The ride out was worse than the ride in as we had to go back up the mountain across large rocks, pot holes, and loose gravel. With the fuel light on, we turned the air conditioner off and drove with the windows down which allowed for a nice dust storm in the car. We finally made it off the rough road and back on to a paved road, but by then my vehicle was saying we had less than fifteen miles until empty and the gas station was still thirty miles away. Luckily, the road was all downhill and we cruised the entire way down to the gas station without touching the gas. After filling up we were back on the road with the Bear River and the Yellowstone cutthroats in our sights. At six the next morning our alarms went off, the first time on the trip we had decided to stay in a hotel. We were about thirty minutes outside Logan, Utah where we collected our new friend, Tyler Coleman, a local who would show us some of his home waters and hopefully put us on some Bear River cutthroat. We were soon on our way into the mountains and shortly thereafter turning down a dirt road to fish one of his favorite creeks. A quick walk to the water and we were shocked to see how many hatches were going off in the crisp cool air. There were thousands of bugs flying around and landing on the surface which quickly showed us some rising trout. Within minutes Tyler had hooked up with a fish and then shortly thereafter I had a shot at a beast of a Bear River cutthroat. Standing on a wet rock just off the banks, I made a cast into a deep pool that flowed under an overhanging tree, when out came what looked like a tarpon. This cutthroat breached the water the same way a tarpon rolls to inspect my dry fly before giving it the smoothest rejection Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve ever seen. I placed the fly over and over back into the pool in the hope that this monster would come back for the fly. But he never did. Fortunately another nice one took my olive Elk Hair Caddis and I was on the board for the Bear River cutthroat. Now Marcos needed to catch his. However, while he was rock-hopping across the creek he fell in which brought an instant end to the morning session. He had no waders on and the freezing water temperatures matched with the thirty-degree outside temperature was a shock to his body. We packed up and headed into town where we would say our goodbyes to Tyler and grab some lunch at a rad pizza place before heading to another creek in search of the Bear River cutthroat. Within minutes of arriving at the next spot Marcos was hooked up with a gorgeous little cutthroat and we were now only one species from completing the slam.

So, we travelled west, down miles and miles of dirt roads before finally coming to a small creek that seemed out of place. A clear cool creek that ran through a hot arid mountain desert was not what we were expecting, but within seconds we saw rising fish. Unfortunately, we also saw something else. We had another flat tire, this time our rear right tire. With only fish on our minds, we decided to fish, with plans to fix the tire later. Quickly we both landed several Yellowstone cutthroat. Now, having officially completed the slam, we decided to fish a little farther and do some filming. I managed to hook a stud of a fish for a piece of water that size before heading to the car. The tire was now completely flat, so we jacked the car up and put the spare on. A few miles later we popped the second rear tire. It was a race against time to the nearest gas station in the hope of finding a tire repair kit and an air compressor. Luckily, they had both and we managed to patch both tires before making the 150-mile trek to get new tires. Next stop was California for the Lahontan cutthroat, California Golden, and the Kern River rainbow. We managed to check every one of those off the list in their home waters, ranging from tiny high mountain plunge pools, to twelve-inch-wide creeks. Next stop was to link up with our friend Anthony in search of some more Lahontan’s a few hours outside of Vegas in Nevada. Then we had a brief stop in Sin City to meet our friend, Sierra, to talk fishing and life adventures. Our final species was in front of us, the Arizona Apache and what would quickly become my favorite species of the trip. Several hours after leaving Las Vegas we arrived at the trailhead to rain and cool temperatures. For the first time on the trip we had to throw our rain jackets on, but it just added to the adventure. The hike started off super easy which led us to believe this would be a simple trek. Well we sure were in for a surprise when the trail took a deep plunge full of switchbacks into the canyon below. A few miles later and we were at the creek. Wet and cold I made my way down to the first pool where I saw my first apache rising to some small leaves on the surface before it realized they were not food. I laid my fly into the pool where he quickly came up and hit the fly, but I missed the eat and spooked the fish. Another cast to the pool right below revealed a monster Apache coming up and smashing my stimulator. The golden shine was so hard to capture on camera and I truly think this is a species that so many people should see for themselves. They are no easy find and, unfortunately, a species that’s been threatened in their native ranges. A few more fish later and we were on our way out. The hike was brutal and the fresh scat from a mountain lion unnerving, but we made it back to the car. The trout adventure was finished. We had completed our goal and more. 7,992 miles later we arrived back home to be greeted by my wife and children in the driveway. What a journey it was, and I can’t wait to do something similar again. I urge everyone to get out there into the wild and find the connection we were fortunate enough to get ourselves. Trout flavours from left to right, top to bottom: - Apache, Bear River cutthroat, Bonneville cutthroat - California golden, Rio grande cutthroat, Colorado River cutthroat – Lahontan cutthroat, Yellowstone cutthroat, Kern River redbound

PROFILE

THE HERO T I M E , D I S TA N C E A N D G R I D L O C K E D TRAFFIC WERE NEVER GOING TO STOP PETER COETZEE FROM INTERVIEWING K E N YA N J E R E M Y B L O C K , W H E N T H E OPPORTUNITY AROSE. THE FIRST P E R S O N T O C AT C H A B R O A D B I L L S W O R D F I S H O N F LY ( A S W E L L A S A M U LT I P L E W O R L D R E C O R D A N D R O YA L SLAM HOLDER), THIS STORY IS AS MUCH ABOUT BLOCK’S EXPLOITS AS IT IS THE STORY OF COETZEE’S D E D I C AT I O N T O P R E S E R V I N G T H E LEGACIES OF THE PIONEERS WHO PAV E D T H E WAY F O R T H E R E S T O F U S . Photos Peter Coetzee and Jeremy Block archive

The story of Jeremy Block, in my life, begins when my family moved from Johannesburg to Dayton, Ohio. I had decided as a kid that I’d be an offshore fisherman. I would troll massive Kona lures, and hang giant billfish from blocks and tackle around the world. How I developed that fantasy, I do not know. I do not come from a family of fisherman or recognise any influence in this regard from my youth. Eight-year-old Peter just decided, he wanted to fish. I would dream about marlin, tigerfish and any off the wall specie I could find in the fishing books at Barnes and Noble Dayton. My parents decided on an incomplete house, and it would be a while before my innocent mind would encounter “cable” TV for the first time. To a generation X starved for entertainment, used to only South African freeto-air television, it was always going to be an expansive moment, but I did not expect what arrived on ESPN that first Saturday morning to change my life so instantaneously. “Come with me on a trip into angling adventure. We’ll ride the ragged edge where the fish are big and wild. We will travel to the loneliest oceans and the farthest rivers in search of the best light tackle action, and we’ll burn the stories into the memories of film.” So went the opening sequence of Walker’s Cay Chronicles and just like that, having never experienced offshore fishing, and after a single episode, I graduated to fly fishing. As I tend to do, I jumped in with both feet, and talked my parents into a subscription of Fly Fishing in Salt Waters magazine. While many got their first taste of fly fishing from A River Runs Through It, mine came from this incredible show. I wanted to be like Flip Pallot, not Paul Mclean. Flip played the blues, rode Air Boats and motorcycles and told a hell of a story. Paul could keep his moonshine and horse. It was in the first few issues of the magazine that I saw Jeremy Block, holding a broadbill swordfish. I’d seen Flip hook a white marlin and sailfish, and that seemed pretty intuitive, but having read enough about Xiphius gladius in taxonomy books, this seemed completely unbelievable and fantastic. Emotion anchored the memory, and I never forgot that photograph or his name. With the arrival of dial-up internet, between chatting on IRL and looking for VIctoria Silvstedt pictures on Netscape, I would occasionally search for info on the quest for broadbill on fly. On the usual empty return I would search for the names of three leaders in the sport: Jeremy Block, Billy Pate and Foaud Sahiaoui, a name that I still spell wrong today. Of the three men, only the second would yield anything decent, but never anything on swords.

Over the years I would grow into an avid saltwater angler, but somehow re-played every billfish encounter in broadbill mode. These ambitions got lost in the fog of other species, mainly permit, until a trip to Sudan two years ago. Guide Stuart Harley and I were running along a drop off where he’d managed to tease in a sailfish almost onto a triggerfish flat. We hooked and caught a little dogtooth tuna and were running back to the mothership when we began talking about Tanzania and its tigerfish. Unexpectedly, over the sound of the boat’s outboard motor, he asked me if I knew Jeremy Block. I’ll never know if Stu was about to tell me a story about guiding the “Puffadder with Piles” as Jeremy is known to his friends, because I almost fell off the Panga at the mention of my childhood hero. Me: “Jeremy WHO?” Stu: “Block.” Me: “The broadbill guy?” Stu: “The what?” Me: “The Yank who caught broadbill off Kenya before Pate.” Stu: “Umm, weird, he is Kenyan, but I don’t think so.” I had not heard the name since I was a kid, and had incorrectly assumed that he must have been from the USA. “One last thing Stu, how old is he?” I needed to qualify this. The Maximus of my childhood fought only a single Gladiator - broadbill swords off of the back of a Sportfisher under the wild, black African sky. If he was still fishing fit and alive, I had to make a plan to meet him. It was more than just putting a human in my hero’s frame. I had witnessed countless of my heroes disappear, with no preservation of their legacies. I had even tried to bid on some of Billy Pate’s possessions; the mount of his massive Tarpon record, the first reel made by Ted Juracsik, but it was before the convenience of Amazon, and getting any of it back home to South Africa seemed logistically impossible. I also bargained with myself. Pate was the most famous of all saltwater fly fishing heroes, there will be a museum or a Hemingwayesque Keys house dedicated to him, something. The auction was an incredibly sad affair, which did nothing more than confirm the obscurity of our passion. Since then more greats have vanished, Lefty Kreh, Will Bauer, Herman Lucerne. They take with them their knowledge and who knows what becomes of what they leave behind? I’m not sure if legacy matters to them, but it does to me, and I’m passionate about leaving some sort of digital footprint recording their achievements. The sport is not as obscure as it once was, but few of today’s fly fishermen can tell you about the Jeremy Blocks or Robert Hydes, and in many cases, the most interesting of

these men lack any sort of social media presence. Some, like Jeremy, are searchable through their records, but those records won’t tell you the story, which in most cases is every bit as special as the accomplishment. My first overture to Jeremy was over a heavily compromised (bandwidth wise) internet connection, and the few second delay didn’t lend itself to rapport. We had a brief discussion, in which Jeremy asked how I’d like to conduct the interview. “I think I’d like to fly to Nairobi to do it in person” An expectable silence followed, but we agreed to iron out details over Whatsapp. I’d arrive on the 17th of October, and to be honest, I had no idea what I was to find in Kenya. My travel to East Africa has taken me close, but never into Kenya. I’ve travelled enough through Africa to know not to expect to find Allan Quatermain seated on a Mahogany stool. What I was hoping to find, was a ‘Cowboy Capitalist’. Delete any sort of negative connotation to the word ‘Cowboy’ as it may make you think of an uncouth man who flies by the seat of his pants. In Africa, combined with ‘Capitalist’, it is an ode to bravery. The Block Family came into Kenya in the 1903 by way of Jeremy’s grandfather, and would divest prolifically through two generations before Jeremy found coffee. The regression of African states can often create a sweet spot for commodity trading, and Kenya is no different. The coffee empire that creates the wealth that enables Jeremy’s offshore broadbill missions was far wider than I expected, and what I found was a man every bit as interesting as I’d hoped. Kenya has a far more beautiful natural landscape than South Africa, maybe not as diverse climatically, but striking, emerald green and white with snow in places and broad with savannah. Its people are kind and calm, and nothing will demonstrate this to you quicker than the traffic. Calculating the short trips from my hotel to Jeremy’s house in Nairobi on Google Maps and Uber was an exercise in confusion. 15km in 3 hours!?? I’d been warned about Nairobi traffic, and quickly realized why Jeremy escapes Nairobi on the weekends, only to return from his ranch in Nanyuki (200km north) mid-morning of the first work day, by way of his Cessna 206. Arriving at his Nairobi home, Jeremy was a bit later than expected, and we walked to his fishing room to discuss things. I had dug up as many fishing pictures of him as I could find, which in the pre digital era are generally quite honest in expression, and Jeremy seemed mischievous in most of these. In person I found he wears the stresses and gravity of African entrepreneurship, something I know all too well. That ‘Guess Your Age’ app? I’m yet to break below 40. Not bad for a 33-year-old aging in African business doggy years.

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““THEY ARE THE PERFECT SIZE FISH FOR FLY,” GARRY SAYS. “WE DON’T GET MASSIVE SWORDS, BUT THEY ARE PROLIFIC AND AGGRESSIVE AND PERFECT FOR A FLY ROD”. ”

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Years of practice - from boating billfish to raiding the booze cupboard, Jeremy Block and Garry Cullen move in seasoned unison.

It wasn’t long before the IGFA (International Game Fish Association, the organisation that ratifies world records) argument popped up. Jeremy: “If you’re going to use 100lb fluoro, just hand line the damn thing.” Me: “OK fine, but then why 20lb as the bar? Why not 30lb? 44lb? 20lb is a record, but not line that tests as 24lb?”

would later hear in conversation with Block and his friend Gary Cullen just how critical the competitive angling element is to the health of the Kenyan fishing fleet.

The 20lb denominator and the IGFA in general, is not something that the younger generation really gets, and I don’t really have an argument against it other than health and fight time and ability. Jeremy argues the same points but from the other side. I do however appreciate what records did for the sport. The reason I know about Pate, Block and Sahiaoui is the IGFA, regardless of whether I agree with their rules. And it does up the ante considerably when it comes to landing a massive billfish. I

“What exactly are you here for Peter?” “Well, it’s a profile on Jeremy, mainly about his bill fishing off of East Africa” “Oh no! His head will explode! You do know someone once wrote a book about his time in Kenya with a chapter in it titled, ‘The Wonderful World of Jeremy Block.’ He was a dentist who spent some time with us on the ranch up north. We had him over and I spent all this time cooking and wasn’t even mentioned!”

On departing the IGFA argument alive and relatively friendly it was time for lunch with Jeremy’s wife Caroline in the dining room. She was obviously curious as to what brought me to Kenya.

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There were a few laughs around when Jeremy says, “If you really want a funny story, ask Caroline about Billy Pate.” I was intrigued. She countered with, “It’s nothing really, other than he was the most boring man I have ever met.” Jeremy says, “Yes, but to a non-fisherman darling.” I sensed I was in for a treat. At the time Caroline and Jeremy had just met, and she flew out an apparently rather frisky Irish friend Caro, who, reading between the lines was keen to chase a few records of her own. However, on meeting Billy she was terribly disappointed. The lack of a sense of humour made old Billy more target than audience, and for the remainder of the trip Caro reorganised his fly fishing terminology into a dirty Irish code language. ‘Teasing,’ ‘Strike,’ ‘Gaff,’ well, you know where this is going. Caroline quickly remembered one more tidbit, well two.

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Billy had a thing for pills. Eight of these for this, 12 of those for that, seven of these to counteract the effect of the first 20, then another 18 of those before a meal, and Caroline stressed that it would be practically impossible to understand how many of these miracle pills Billy swallowed with each meal, but in volume - a toiletry bag amount. Pate never did get a sword, nor did Caro (not from Pate at least). The subject quickly turned to aviation where common ground was found between all at lunch. In Kenya, a light utility aircraft is a practical necessity, especially if your weekends are spent in the shadow of Mount Kenya up north. Being an ex-ferry pilot who did far too many stupid things over big bodies of water helped my cause here. And I was elated to see the series of paint jobs Jeremy had gone through on his Cessna 206. First a Cheetah, then a grass hopper, now a Bee. No boring man flies a C206 painted like Bee. I can guarantee it.

Lunch ended and I headed back to the hotel. Tomorrow we’d spend the day together and visit Dormans coffee, Jeremy’s business. And the afternoon gave me an opportunity to run through Nairobi (apparently not a good idea) and visit a Dormans outlet or two. The customer facing element is a small fraction of the wholesale business, but I was keen to test it out regardless. I ran through the fantastic city gardens, which are commercial selling everything from Azaleas to Zanzibar gems and ended my run at the Westgate Shopping mall in Westlands. The mall was much smaller than I had imagined, and the terror attack of 2013 must have been absolutely harrowing for all inside. The Dormans on the ground floor was impeccable, Jeremy’s passion and meticulousness imputed on everything I’d seen and tasted thus far. I managed a quick gym session and breakfast before Jeremy’s driver arrived. Jeremy had a dentist appointment and haircut, and we’d meet him post the dentist. I was still

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room? Yup. A mount is a mount, but it’s impossible to not bring it to life in a Walter Mitty way, struggling to get your hand around those massive tail skegs, holding onto that 2-by-4 of a bill. It was a weird feeling seeing it there. This, the entire quest to Kenya for this meeting, had been as much about that fish as it was about the angler for me. We arrive at the Dormans head office, and after some impressive Swahili from Jeremy we head upstairs to his office. There are immediately more hints of the man’s character, none more telling than the engraved plaque on his desk which reads, “Chairman of the Bored.” I’m told these are new offices, and the smell of coffee is almost sickeningly strong to someone who is not acclimatised to the sheer volume of all this Kenyan “Kahawa” (coffee). Jeremy has to rush into a series of board meetings so I wander the office section of the building, and quickly overhear a conversation on long positions on x and y strain. Commodity trading the one thing that most of us need and the absence of which renders any productivity near impossible - coffee. The meetings end and we head into the tasting and packaging area. I didn’t record the amounts of strains tasted per sitting, but if memory serves me correct it was 90-odd. “When do you plan on retiring Jeremy”? “I am retired!” he scoffs before inspecting the grinders and dishing out orders all around in Swahili. The office is in the airport area, and we shoot off back to the house in Nairobi where Garry Cullen was to meet us for dinner and drinks. On the way back I was slightly preoccupied with Nairobi’s cell network infrastructure, my Dormans.

uncertain as to the direction of the interview and decided I needed absolute specifics on the first fish caught. So the drive home together was a Q&A. Peter style. Boat name: - “Eclare” Captain: -“Richard Moller” Fly: - “Squid on Bic pen inner tied by a fantastic young man, Marnoux Boujinati.” Time: - “5am.” Fight time: -“20 or 30 minutes.” Visible Strike: - “Hmm, no I don’t think we saw the first fish before it ate, but the crew felt it all over the teaser.” It may have seemed like I was ticking boxes, in reality I was trying to assemble a mental picture of what had to have been a remarkable first. This isn’t some obscure sub genus that no one knows of. This was the first ever broadbill sword on fly in a time when extremely few swords had been caught on any form of artificial. Oh, did I mention that fish is on the wall of Jeremy’s fishing

Garry Cullen is a giant of a man, with a concerned but playful demeanour. An ex PGA pro, he’s distracted by a set of golf clubs in the entrance hall. Once he and Jeremy are done evaluating the set in what sounds like a mixture of English, Swahili and Arabic, the whereabouts of the “Memsahib” (Caroline) are ascertained, drinks are poured (anaesthesia level of whiskey for Garry, beer for Jeremy, normal neat whiskey for me) and we decamp to the lounge. Lily the Labrador, a rear seat Cessna passenger, has decided that I look like a good culprit for attention and before we dive into the archives, a political discussion regarding the new Tanzanian president and a potential land use agreement kicks off. Jeremy is a large land owner and employer in both places, and I imagine would be a fantastic capitalistic barometer on the neighbouring countries. The conversation eventually Segways into fishing and around significant but unpublished (as far as I know) commitment. In the mid-90s, Garry was running Hemingways (the legendary fishing lodge in

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Watamu) and decided that a Broadbill fishery would be an incredible drawcard for Kenyan sportfishing, and although the presence of the specie was known, nobody was committing the time or resources to figuring out the fish and what would be effective techniques in catching them. Garry would commit and commit properly, and it would take 42 nights of fishing for his crew to land the first broadbill, using some of the techniques outlined by his own father, Anthony, in his book Crash Strike which must be one of the first titles on the subject. Garry’s remarkable achievement of landing that first broadbill laid the foundation for the fishery, and the discovery proved that swordfish could be taken reliably at night off of Kenya. Not long after, Jeremy would get the first ever broadbill on fly. The excitement over that was massive and both men thought that anglers would be rushing to Kenya from all over the world to attempt the feat themselves. “They are the perfect size fish for fly,” Garry says. “We don’t get massive swords, but they are prolific and aggressive and PERFECT for a fly rod”. Fly fishing media (if there is such a thing) grabbed the story by the horns and published the rush into the IGFA record books, a perceived race between Block, Billy Pate and Fouad Sahiaoui. The details of that competition would end up deposited into my mailbox in Ohio, via Fly Fishing in Salt Waters. To me, it was like Prost vs Senna or Borg vs McEnroe. In reality, it was a fixed game. Jeremy with the home ground advantage. That’s not to say the competition wasn’t or isn’t there. Jeremy still actively aims to erase many of the records held by the others, and in an interesting bit of sportsmanship, supports Fouad in his fights against IGFA, who attempted to nullify some of his records due the exploitation of an obvious loop hole, i.e. no minimum length on fly line. Less line drag makes for an obvious advantage in a tippet breaking strain world, and although most “sporting” record chasers will still keep a castable length of fly line, Fouad, a precisionist, would only use 12 inches of fly line. “Fouad remains the most obsessed fly fisherman I ever had on my boat,” Garry says. “He was absolutely possessed. We would be rolling around in massive seas and you’d peek into the cabin and in amongst the chaos with things flying all over the place, would be Fouad, tying and retying leaders, checking flies - it was something else.” Bearing in mind that every aspect of this unique pursuit is under the black of the new moon sky, I had to ask

about the visual aspect of the tease in, something that has fascinated me ever since the day Craig Thomassen painted the entire picture to me, including fluorescence. “Oh yes,” Garry says. “You can see the glow from the bridge when the fish is at 30 feet. You can see the tips of the fins, the outline of the bill, the entire thing in perfect fluorescence. It’s not always the case that the fish comes that close before the eat, sometimes they will eat way off, but when they come right in, it’s a sight to behold.” “It’s something every bill fisherman should experience, regardless of whether or not you get a hook up. It’s unlike anything on earth.” Jeremy added. Perhaps sensing the 8-year-old from Dayton, Ohio in the wide-eyed 33-year-old sitting on the couch in front of them, Garry asks if I plan to have a go. I confirm with absolute certainty and a smile. Garry says, “Well I will add one line of caution. It has to be when the sea is calm. Not that the bite isn’t there when it’s on its head, but it can be incredibly uncomfortable for everyone involved on a black night, with no horizon in a rolling sea.” Having been stuck in two tropical storms on my first ever Seychelles exploratory early in my 20s, I know exactly how that feels. An unabated feeling of vertigo that stays with you even in your dreams. I can imagine that in his 42 nights at sea in search of that first broadbill, he had his fair share of discomfort. Drinks wind down and Garry indicates that he needs to retire. He has an early morning start. “Please don’t bother with those fantastic breakfasts Caroline, just two slices of toast.” As I walk up the stairs to where Jeremy’s driver waits to drive me home, I thank my host for his hospitality under what must have been pretty odd circumstances. “I’ll be back next year to have a crack at the swords, but I won’t use IGFA, your records are safe,” I chirp Jeremy. “You cheeky bastard. You’re welcome to, let me know when you plan on coming. Good night Peter.” And just like that Mike and I head back across Nairobi, now devoid of congestion, my mind somewhere further north east, on a rolling sea, waiting for the call of a strike.

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“DELETE ANY NEGATIVE CONNOTATIONS. IN AFRICA, ‘COWBOY’ COMBINED WITH CAPITALIST IS AN ODE TO BRAVERY.” W W W. T H E M I S S I O N F LY M A G . C O M

ANTON PENTZ

THE ENGINEER WHO STARTED A CULT DIGGING DEEP INTO THE STORY OF THE P E N T Z P R E D AT O R , J E F F T Y S E R D I S C O V E R S H O W A N E N G I N E E R A N D PA R T-T I M E R E E L M A N U FA C T U R E R â&#x20AC;&#x2122; S C R E AT I O N S C A P T U R E D T H E AT T E N T I O N O F L E F T Y K R E H , S PAW N E D A C U LT F O L L O W I N G A N D ( A L M O S T ) DISAPPEARED FROM PRODUCTION FOREVER.

Photos: Ross Garrett

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t’s very unlikely that Zwavelpoort has ever featured in a discussion around iconic South African fly fishing locations. But this sprawling settlement in the rolling hills east of Pretoria is about to become the centre of much attention within the South African fly fishing scene. On the outskirts of Zwavelpoort, a crumbling gravel road leads to a modest factory, where highly specialised bolts used in the construction of cellphone towers are manufactured. But we’re not in Zwavelpoort to learn about bolts. Nestled away behind an assortment of CNC milling machines and lathes, in trays once used to bake McDonald’s burger buns, sit the components for roughly five hundred fly reels. It’s fitting, perhaps, considering the bun fight that the assembled reels are sure to incite. The components – reel casings, spools, handles, reel seats, an assortment of diminutive pins, springs and screws, in fact everything bar the Teflon washers and rubber O rings – were all machined with surgical precision on the lathes and mills surrounding us. Photographer, Ross Garrett and I pull out a tray and take a closer look. On the back of each reel casing, the word PREDATOR is neatly engraved in a no-frills, timeless typeface. Even without the branding, the distinctive, spoke-like porting of the spools would be a dead giveaway to many. Some would even know the name of the man behind these reels – a certain Mr. Anton Pentz. Pentz’s Predators achieved something of a cult status in fly fishing circles, almost as soon as they were launched back in 1998. Technically, the reels were impossible to fault. Rugged, reliable, remarkably smooth drag system: check, check and check. But devotees most likely saw something more in Pentz’s creations. Perhaps they stirred a sense of pride amongst South Africans, proving that homegrown could also mean world-class. Perhaps, at a time when one could buy an Abel emblazoned in any colour scheme under the sun, or a reel that looked like it was designed in 2045, they stood for the opposite – restraint, reductionism, timelessness. It’s a good 45 minutes into our meeting before Anton, in his humble, matter-of-fact way, drops the most compelling endorsement a piece of fly fishing gear could ever dream of. “Lefty Kreh gave me my first big order.” “What?!” Ross and I are unanimous in our disbelief. Turns out the late, great Lefty had been one of the initial field testers, along with Mark Yelland and Australian Mike “Felty” Felton. Kreh was so impressed that he promptly ordered a large batch for the US market, to be produced under the Thomas & Thomas brand (another mightily impressive endorsement). Felton too wanted in on the action, and soon Anton was shipping reels to Australia, under the Felty brand.

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We pause beside a CNC milling machine – reconditioned and modified by Anton personally, to meet his exacting standards. He explains that the distinctive spokes of the Predator’s spool are much more challenging to mill than circular holes. But that’s sort of the point. Right from the start, he was insistent that his product should look like nothing else on the market, even if this ended up being more time consuming. Frankly, it was a stroke of design genius. Whether it was Steve Starling taming oversize queenfish in a Gulf of Carpentaria creek, or Fred Davis pinning his first Breede river grunter, no matter if the word ‘Predator’ or ‘Felty’ was engraved on the back, the weapon of choice was always instantly recognisable. Things seemed to be going from strength to strength for Anton’s little reel business. But then, around 2006, and much to the dismay of fly fishers the world over, Pentz’s production line ground to a halt. The Rand had strengthened significantly against the US Dollar – not great news for an exporter – and it was simply no longer feasible to continue. Anton Pentz is an engineer, pragmatic and calculated. In the few hours that we spend with him, he doesn’t show much emotion. It’s only when we quiz him about the decision to stop producing reels that he allows himself to drift off, ever so slightly. In that moment we get a hint of how tough that call must have been.

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“WHILE YOU’RE READING THIS, THERE’S A GOOD CHANCE THAT ANTON IS SITTING AT HIS WORKBENCH, BRINGING ONE OF HIS CREATIONS TO LIFE. HE’LL BE DOING THIS WITH THE SAME METICULOUS ATTENTION TO DETAIL THAT HAS CHARACTERISED ANYTHING HE’S EVER SET HIS MIND TO” Back to all those fly reel bits, tucked away in old McDonald’s baking trays. Towards the end of 2018, Anton made the decision to begin assembling the components that remained after production ceased back in 2006. While you’re reading this, there’s a good chance that he is sitting at his workbench, bringing one of his creations to life. He’ll be doing this with the same meticulous attention to detail that has characterised anything he’s ever set his mind to. In the not-too-distant future, around five hundred new Predators will be released into the South African market. If the speed at which used Predators are snapped up is anything to go by, these things won’t sit around in store cabinets for very long. If you don’t manage to snag one, fear not. Anton has been tinkering with prototypes for an improved version, and assures us that he is almost ready to pull the trigger on commercial production. Version 2.0 will feature the legendary sealed Teflon disc drag, along with a few clever modifications. We were very happy to hear that Pentz won’t be steering from the timeless aesthetics of the original, however. The distinctive spokes, recessed counter-balance and large drag adjustment knob aren’t going anywhere. Our meeting eventually comes to an end, or so Ross and I think. As we say our farewells outside the little Zwavelpoort factory, Anton invites us into his home for a cup of tea. He is not quite ready to stop talking fly reels, and we are more than happy to oblige. While discussing his latest prototype, a glint in the eye betrays another hint of emotion. As if we needed more confirmation, we’re left in no doubt that Anton Pentz’s true passion does not lie in the manufacturing of bolts. To get in touch with Anton Pentz about the new release of Predator reels into the market, email him on antonpentz@icon.co.za

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TIGER MOTHER MOCKED BY HIS MOM, SHUNNED BY HIS P E E R S A N D U N I N I T I AT E D I N T H E WAY S O F T I G E R F I S H , T U D O R C A R A D O C - D AV I E S S E T OFF TO ICHINGO CHOBE RIVER LODGE TO SET THE RECORD STRAIGHT

here’s a running joke in my family. Actually it’s less of a joke than a hackneyed yarn complete with elbow nudges and winks that make a mime look subtle. I know, I sound bitter. Maybe I am. It’s because my mother has caught the biggest tigerfish in our family and she never lets me forget it. This feat happened in the early 2000s somewhere around Impalila Island in the Caprivi Strip. She’s got proof – a creased photocopy of a photograph that she carries around in her handbag, just in case anyone should ever bring up the subject of fishing. And, if I happen to be in the general vicinity, I inevitably get pulled into the conversation. “How many big tigerfish have you caught… Tudor?” “Would anyone like to see my fish? It was 8,2kg.” It’s a dance, a piece of familial theatre and I play my part, rolling my eyes, huffing ever so slightly and trotting out a set of arguments, as if each discussion of her tigerfish was under deliberation in the 14th Appellate Court of Piscatorial Appeals during an episode of The Good Wife. “It was caught on a lure, not a fly.”

“I put it to you that the guide did the work. He appears to be holding it for you in that pic.” “Is that not a prime example of mielie-forking the fish forward to make it seem larger?” “8,2kg? Wasn’t the size 6,2kg at the last telling? Was it weighed according to IGFA standards? Whatever the truth is, my main argument is that the playing fields of opportunity are uneven. While my mother has had numerous opportunities to visit the Zambezi and various other spots across the floodplains of central southern Africa over the last 70-odd years, for some reason, I’ve just never got there. There’s been a tigerfish-shaped void in my fishing journey so far. Whenever I’ve confessed to other South African fly anglers that I have never caught a tiger on fly, the reaction is incredulous, like admitting to someone that, as a grown adult, you’ve never eaten a tomato. The point of this preamble? Simply that I was way overdue my first tigerfishing trip and a chance at crushing my mother’s record. When an opportunity came up for my wife Ingrid and I to visit Ichingo Chobe River Lodge in the Caprivi Strip

8,2kg? 18lbs? Fishy story? The author›s mother claims the title of biggest family tigerfish.

for a week of tigerfishing mixed in with game viewing, G&T drinking, book reading and some very hard chillaxing, we jumped at the chance. A couple of weeks of frantic prep ensured. Assuming the mantle of the Jon Snow of tigerfishing (I knew fokkol), I needed a crash course, a tiger mother who could get me up to speed quickly. So, I turned to Platon Trakoshis, a Cypriot-ZimbabweanSouth African friend who is a long time tiger nut. Having lived for decades in Zim, he has spent many long hours tormenting tigerfish from the Zambezi to the Chobe and back again. If anyone could advise me, Platon could. Over the course of a couple of evenings we tied flies, tied steel traces onto flies and spoke about strategy. Not to be too reductionist about it to those who find nuance in the game, but the central tenets seemed simple enough. Fast sinking lines, heavily-weighted flies (primarily clousers though Platon swore by a double-weighted zonker minnow)

in the Goth standards of black and purple, black and red and black and black. I tied a few but in the end, with time running out, Platon gave me his tiger fly box for the trip with the prediction that with medium-paced strips and some patience I’d have all the violence I could ever ask for at the other end of the line. But first, let’s locate our destination with a brief historical interlude. The Caprivi strip is that awkward cartographer’s panhandle jutting off Namibia, bordering Botswana, Zambia and Zimbabwe. It got its name from Leo Von Caprivi, a German politician, who was possibly the worst negotiator in history. Von Caprivi was instrumental in acquiring the area for Germany in a trade with Britain. His goal was to link his country’s African colonies German South West Africa (Namibia) and German East Africa - via the Zambezi river. To secure the 450km

long Caprivi strip for Germany, he negotiated with the British who ran Bechuanaland (Botswana) under which the land fell. In the trade, Caprivi gave them Heligoland (an archipelago north of Hamburg where Lego people come from) and the island of Zanzibar off Tanzania (where Freddie Mercury came from). The Brits must have thought it was the best trade ever, because Von Caprivi or someone in his office seemed to have forgotten that just a few kilometres downstream of the Caprivi Strip lies Victoria Falls, aka “Mosi-Oa-Tunya,” aka, “The Smoke That Thunders,” only the biggest waterfall in the world. Great Britain had gained strategic footholds in both the North Sea and the Indian Ocean in exchange for an armpit of rivers that’s heaven for anglers, but hell for engineers. Colonial Germany and Caprivi’s loss was our (my) gain because the Zambezi and Chobe river floodplains have stayed relatively unchanged since then. Visitors can still enjoy great fishing, game viewing and bird watching in the fabled Chobe National Park without having to fill out forms in German in triplicate, dodge pleasure cruisers or pretend to like Oom-pah music. This was top of mind as we made our way from Cape Town to our destination. At the risk of sounding like a colonial time traveler, it’s pretty amazing how quickly you can leave your life behind with a few short flights. In half a day we’d gone from suburbia to the bush proper. Cape Town – Johannesburg, Johannesburg – Kasane in Botswana by plane, a short ride through town in an opentop Landrover down to the Chobe River where an immigration officer stamped us out of Botswana again. Then there was an even shorter boat

“ASSUMING THE MANTLE OF THE JON SNOW OF TIGERFISHING (I KNEW FOKKOL), I NEEDED A CRASH COURSE, A TIGER MOTHER WHO COULD GET ME UP TO SPEED QUICKLY” 68

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The Dorsal That Came From The Deep - a smash hit horror film with bluegill families.

From tigerfish on tap, to safaris cruises to â&#x20AC;&#x153;Elephant Bayâ&#x20AC;? in the Chobe National Park, abundant bird life and beer boat refills - if you like fishing, subtle luxury and the bush, Ichingo Chobe River Lodge is the tits

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ride across the river to Namibia’s Impalila Island, where we had our passports stamped in to Namibia. Another three-minute boat ride and we were there. Where? Down a skinny side channel of rapids on the south side of Impalila Island, bordered by the Zambezi river to the North, the Chobe river to the south and the Kasai Channel to the west. Slap-bang in the middle of three prime tiger rivers - that’s where Ichingo Chobe River Lodge is. Within half an hour I’d established my wife’s enduring independence and ability to find a drink on her own, dumped my bags, rigged up, met Cassius who was to be my guide for the next few days, jumped in a boat and managed to get on the water for the last few hours of sunlight. As I peppered him with a thousand questions, Cassius weaved the boat up rapids and through narrow channels. Expecting toothy, stripey violence, I was surprised that it came so quickly. In failing light in the home pool just out of sight of the lodge, I was broken off twice in quick succession by large fish. Both times I experienced a savage pull, a surge of adrenalin on both ends of the line before it went slack with my jaw. Initially I just

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thought I’d missed the take, or that the fly couldn’t get any purchase in the fish’s bony jaw, but on closer inspection both times it appeared to be a snapped leader. Puzzled, Cassius and I examined the 25LB Maxima spool, which was only six months old and decided to leave nothing to chance by using a fresher one from then on. Excited, but fishless we returned to the lodge around the same time squadrons of birds were heading home to roost. Openbilled storks, cormorants and darters, egrets, stilts, night herons taking over from the day shift, it was rush hour for thousands upon thousands of birds. I’ve spent the better part of the last three decades trying to control my competitive side. It’s hard, because I take shit seriously, from the Springboks losing, to hard-fought Scrabble battles, to my mother catching bigger fish than me. It’s just how I am wired. When it comes to fishing I have always avoided competition, whether with friends or in formal competition. I just know, I’ll become even more of a dick if I let myself just be myself. That first night at the bar, Kennedy, Ichingo’s manager, put on an awards ceremony for two American couples from Indiana who had been there a few days. One of them, a dentist, had

Ichingo sits on the banks of a side channel of the Chobe river, built on sandy beaches (where hippos sleep) under established trees

caught a 5kg fish and ‘climbed’ the island’s biggest baobab tree, which made him eligible for…’The Ichingo Challenge.’ All he needed to do was take a double shot of the local moonshine and the glory – as well as a T-shirt, a buff and a story to tell – would be his. One catface later and some minor spillage down his Simms shirt and Indiana had done it. Sitting on a leather couch clapping along nonchalantly, inside I was scheming. While I’m not quite a Darwin Awards contender, I am a sucker for stuff like this. Tequila Suicide (snort the salt, drink the tequila and squeeze the lemon in your eyes)? Bring it. The Ichingo Challenge? Pffft. Looking at the portly dentist, I knew that if he could do it then two thirds of it – the drinking and the tree climbing – would be child’s play. All I needed to do was catch a 5kg+ fish. Over the next few days we settled into a normal lodge routine. While my wife slept in, I’d jump in to any one of the lodge’s many speedboats and get out on the water early with Cassius.

Back in time for a late breakfast with Ingrid, we could then head out for a boat safari to the Chobe National Park or simply read books, swim in the pool under the shade of riverine canopy, watch birds or Cape clawless otters catch more fish than I ever will or get in a mid-morning snooze back in the cool, comfortable tented chalets. Lunch, another snooze and another fishing session would follow, followed by sundowners, dinner and an early night (more snoozing). In no time, the shoulder pain of desk work and nervous eye ticks of stress disappeared as we forgot about the world for a moment. Others may need an ashram in India or a Mauritian beach to bake on, but for me the regimen of eat, sleep, read, fish, repeat is exactly what the doctor ordered. We shared the lodge with a rotating crowd of Americans, Belgians, French and Germans doing pretty much the same thing. Along with the staff who are Impalila Island locals, we did what people from all over the world do to find common ground – compared

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notes on how fucked up the weather is. On the Chobe river the rains were very late and while the skies threatened, Kennedy summed it up as, “It’s not right.” For the Europeans the year had been one of runaway wildfires and a record heat wave, while for the Indiana couples with second homes in Florida – the Sunshine State had revealed more than a few different moods with each successive mega-storm. As Capetonians, we had special status as having come from a place that almost became the first big city to run out of water. Water, or the lack of it, was initially on my mind while Cassius and I fished over the first few days. Naysayers had told me that the water would be too low, that it would be too hot, that November wasn’t the right month to go tigerfishing. The water was low, but I didn’t know any better so I had nothing to compare it to. It was hot (for me, a ginger), but thanks to messed up weather patterns it was actually cool by local standards. Even if I did overheat, there was the wonder of a fly fishing

breakfast beer (and no judgement) for such an ailment. And lastly, as I started to catch fish at a steady rate, it appeared the time was just right to go tigerfishing. Fishing the deep channels, after I got off the mark with a fish of around 2kg, a medley of similar 2/3kg -sized fish and plenty of rats came at regular intervals. Mixing it up, Cassius would weave his way through the hippo pods of the Kasai Channel, taking me to side channels in search of humpback, threespot and largemouth bream. We lucked out on the bream, but got a bunch of medium-sized tigers that chased clousers out of the light green murk and across sandbars. Back at home pool on the third morning, moments after waving goodbye across the water to Team Indiana who had just had their stamped passports stamped to head home, I got hit and I stayed hit. The Photoshop of my memory is kind, but from the ferocity of the take to the full body jumps, the rattling of the gills (that my imagination has added to the audio files), my expert playing of the fish (Cassius reminding me to keep the rod down or risk stuffing it up) – I could not have scripted it any better. When it comes to fish

size, guide gauging is fraught with potential flattery. Cassius put it at 6kg, which I converted to Imperial, because 13,2lb sounds way bigger to my mother’s friends than her 8,2kg (similarly unverified) fish.

the water, the fact that I relaxed so fast I lost track of what day of the week it was within 48 hours of being there - I’ll remember and savour all of that from visiting Ichingo, but perhaps most of all I’ll remember that tiger best.

Catching decent/significant fish is seldom that important I tell contributors to this magazine. “We’re more interested in the story,” I say and it’s true, we are, but when you’re out there, it’s undeniable the satisfaction that comes with ticking that box. Once you’ve caught that one respectable fish, sure you want more, but you can relax a bit. Everything else - all the stuff that you should appreciate regardless - gets its due regard. The genuine friendliness of Kennedy and the camp staff, the understated luxury of the lodge, the incredible African skimmers with their effortless jerky flight, the breeding pair of giant kingfishers that swoop between the trees overhanging the water’s edge where the boats moor, the bachelor hippo who grunts and hoots on the sandy inlets between chalets 3 and 5 so that you prod your wife and falsely accuse her of chopping trees, the beer-refill boat that comes out to meet you if heaven forbid you run out of beer, the welcome dop as you get off

It must have been 16lbs. Maybe even 18lb... With one more afternoon available to me to complete The Ichingo Challenge, I hiked across the island to the 2000+year-old Baobab tree. A couple of hundred metres from a Namibian army outpost, it’s been used as a lookout point and bears the scars of decades of bored, young men just seeing what they can see. Twothirds of the way up, with my 38-yearold knees shaking and vertigo rising, I realised there was no way Indiana at 70-odd had climbed it. At best, he might have held on to the bottom rung. From the top, taking in the expansive views of this truly wild, special place, I could see deep into Zambia, Zimbabwe and Botswana. It dawned on me, maybe Von Caprivi knew exactly what he was doing all along.

SHOP THE MISSION TIGER-STOPPING GEAR FOR THE CAPRIVI STRIP

Thomas & Thomas Zone 10-weight. thomasandthomas.com

Patagonia Men’s Technical Stretch Shorts. www.patagonia.com

Rio Jungle Series DirectCore. www.rioproducts.com

Hunter Pro Series Super Scissors. www.ganis.co.za

Electric Sunglasses Stackers. electriccalifornia.com

Tafel Lager

AFW Tooth proof Stainless Steel Leader Wire #02. afwfishing.com

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Pentz Predator 9-10-weight. antonpentz@icon.co.za

L AT ES T R E L E A S ES

SALAD BAR ABEL & SPYDERCO – NATIVE®5 “Jrrrrrrrfokbliksem!” and various other colloquialisms were heard ringing out around The Mission’s HQ when we saw this bad boy. Take Abel, manufacturers of indestructible yet arty reels, add in Spyderco, renowned knifemakers who like Abel are also based in Colorado. Get them to collaborate over the course of two years. The result is the stunning Native®5 which features a blade machined from a nitrogen-based, ultra-corrosion resistant stainless steel called LC200N. LC200N is a NASA favourite produced via Pressurized Electric Slag Remelting (a process we undergo every new year) and “smart forging.” What’s it all mean? A bloody sharp, ridiculously good-looking knife that will last you forever, basically. Available in three colour options: Bonefish, Native Rainbow and Native Brown. abelreels.com SCIFLIES – MICRO SALT PATTERNS It’s easy to fall into the belief pattern that everything that swims in saltwater is a big, bad tackle-busting beast, but to do so would be foolish and are we foolish? No sir! Anyone who has ever enjoyed some small stream action will get the appeal of micro salt and to cater to that market Arno Laubscher over at Scientific Fly has developed a range of micro salt patterns. From Crazy Charlies to Salty Buggers, and Clouser Minnows (with more patterns to come) in sizes #8 - #14, you’ll have all you need to target the streepies, klippies, blacktail, wildeperd, bronze bream, wave garrick and other smaller species that will put a bend in your 5-weight. Now available at Upstream Fly Fishing. www.scientificfly.com, www.upstreamflyfishing.co.za

YVON CHOUINARD – LET MY PEOPLE GO SURFING Ja, we know it’s not brand new, but it’s important. First published in 2005 and updated 10 years later, Patagonia head honcho Chouinard’s book is required reading for A) anyone who gives a damn about the planet B) anyone in business or C) is a consumer – so everyone essentially. From doing business ethically to escaping the greed and mindless consumption traps that are destroying the planet, it will make you think a little more about your impact on the world and how you can help. www.patagonia.com, www.flyfishing.co.za

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RIO – INTOUCH BIG NASTY SINK TIP Looking for an easy-casting, tripledensity sink-tip line designed for throwing big flies at big fish? Look no further cornholio. Rio’s InTouch Big Nasty Sink Tip line sports frontloaded weight distribution and ultralow stretch ConnectCore allowing you to throw big and hairy stuff to the big and toothy. Its triple density gives you the best depth control while fishing. Available in float/hover/intermediate (ideal choice for fishing in the top two feet of the water column), float/hover/ intermediate/sink 3 for fishing at 2-4 feet depth), and a float/intermediate/ sink 3/sink 5 design (for 4-8 feet in depth). www.rioproducts.com, www.xplorer.co.za

ROSS – ANIMAS REEL You know those mummies they uncover in ancient tombs? The ones that are all blinged up and smiling, like Skeletor meets Diddy? That’s what the new 2019 iteration of Ross’s Animas reel makes us think of – skeletal minimalism meets eye-catching looks. With a new frame and easy release spool design, plus an ultra-light phenolic handle that gets tackier when wet, like your ex, this is as good looking, accommodating and admin-free as it gets. www.rossreels.com, www.frontierflyfishing.co.za

HORIZON – TFS 590-4 ROD Frontier Fly Fishing’s in-house brand, Horizon has developed somewhat of a cult following in Southern Africa over the last decade or so with many people swearing by their beloved TRS and XRS series. The new TFS is the next step in their evolution and, if stillwater trooting is your thing, the 5-weight, 9-foot, 4-piece TFS could just be your Excalibur. Capable of loading at short ranges (Frontier recommend the Scientific Anglers MPX taper as the perfect pairing), it’ll make even the most ham-fisted caster look good. And yes, if your fishing bounces between Dullstroom and the Vaal, it’s just as good at handling smallmouth yellowfish as it is troot. www.frontierflyfishing.co.za

ORVIS & LOON OUTDOORS – QUICKDRAW FORCEPS & FLOW NIPPER Another power collab, this time on a pair of forceps! Orvis and Loon Outdoors teamed up to produce the ultimate hemostat with their Quickdraw Forceps. Made from surgical stainless steel they feature a flat geometric jaw, eye-clearing needle, carabiner finger loop, oversized thumb and finger holes (good for when you wear gloves or if you have Hodor hands) so you can crimp those barbs, remove those hooks and cut those leader tag ends neatly and efficiently and get back to fishing pronto. Like the Quickdraw Forceps, the Flow Nipper is designed for maximum efficiency. It cuts, it pokes out they eyes of your crappy homemade flies and it saves your teeth from fluoro tippet damage. High quality design from Orvis and production from Loon Outdoors translates into a superior cutting edge and durability that will keep performing for years to come. www.orvis.com, www.flyfishing.co.za

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UPSTREAM FLY FISHING - SUNGAITER AND WADING TIGHTS Men in tights – outside of Robin Hood and other medieval theatre it’s never been our thing, but recently we’ve warmed to the idea. Why? Peer pressure, plain and simple. We see people going places, wearing tights, catching fish. Maybe the tights are lucky, maybe they’re infused with anchovy oil or maybe it’s just a smart move if you want to avoid sunburnt legs and chafed nuts. The guys over at Upstream have developed their own SPF 50 cloudburst camo tights which will have you looking and feeling the part both on the flats and at a trance party. Aweh. We’ll be testing them and their new SPF50 sun gaiters in Gabon shortly. www.upstreamflyfishing.co.za

SIMMS - SOLARFLEX HOODY RIVER CAMO There comes a time in every freshwater fly angler’s life where he or she must seriously consider… A) Tenkara, B) Competition Fishing or C) camo? If you answered C) you might just be the winner of a camouflage corduroy lounge suit, but you’d be right. The thing is, camo is easy to dismiss as something survivalists and your weird nephew with the kill-list is into, but we cannot deny that there are specific species and destinations where without it, you might as well not be fishing. Sterkfontein Dam is a case in point. Perhaps the only thing that beats Simms’s Solarflex Hoody in River Camo is a sniper’s ghillie suit. Lightweight and quick-drying, with UPF50 sun protection it’ll keep you cool as you inch closer to that lunker by impersonating a bush. www.simmsfishing.com, www.frontierflyfishing.co.za

LOON OUTDOORS – CAMO DROPS On the subject of camo, if you’re a bit under gunned in the weight department and need to get your flies down into the zone, check out Loon’s Camo Drops. Non-toxic textured tin weights they’re easily clamped and adjusted with your forceps. Available in nine different sizes. loonoutdoors.com, www.xplorer.co.za

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rmation Pack DUBAI ON THE FLY

OCEANACTIVEFLY.COM

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DUBAI ON THE FLY 2019 The epicenter of the planet, Dubai is both a springboard to other places and an amazing destination unto itself. Unique in so many ways, from boasting the world’s tallest building to the world’s only 7-star hotel, the world’s largest shopping malls, plus some of the world’s best sports events, indoor ski slopes, fast cars, the natural wonders of the surrounding deserts and much much more. As if that wasn’t enough, Dubai is also an incredible fly fishery. When the Dubai Palms and World islands were built they created an ideal marine environment, which attracted a huge amount of marine life, many of which are excellent targets on fly. The queenfish action is so good, it has to be one of the most consistent queenfish fisheries in the world. It’s not just ‘queenies’ that chase the fly, you also stand a good chance of catching Kingfish (Spanish Mackerel), Golden Trevally, Cobia and Bonito. Whether you are on your way to fish in the Seychelles, Sudan or Tanzania, heading home from somewhere else, or simply visiting Dubai for its own delights, make sure you allocate a day to get over jetlag and experience urban fly fishing at its best, we call it ‘Dubai on the fly’. Visit oceanactivefly.com and book now. PARTNERS WITH

LOOP – Q REEL Loop’s new Q reel is a functional stunner of the highest order. It should be considering they spent 730 days working on it. That’s a lot of R&D. With tough die-cast yet lightweight housing, the gunmetal grey, the iconic Viking “L” axe, it looks good but under the hood it also delivers with a powerful braking system and the V-shaped arbour design that has a unique embedded counterbalance to improve line retrieval by enhancing rotational efficiency. Throw in an effortless spool replacement system (no loose parts to drop in a river) and you have a reel for almost any application. Available in 4/6, 6/8, 7/9 and 8/11 sizes. www.looptackle.com, www.flyfishing.co.za

SIMMS – SURF SHORTS Surf’s up bra and with jacks busting in the shorebreak you need a pair of shorts that can handle waves nailing you in the nuts, limit chafe and dry in no time. Simms Surf Shorts are made for the job with quick-drying UPF 50 sun protection that wicks water away and protects you from the great glowing orb around which our world rotates. And yes there’s a fly box-sized zip pocket for when you want to dump the rest of your gear on the beach. www.simmsfishing.com, www.upstreamflyfishing.co.za

FISHPOND – LOST TRAIL WADING STAFF Whether you are wobbly or just attempting to wade through a torrent to get to a troot on the other side, sometimes a wading staff is a godsend. Folding down into 3 sections if you need to stash it, Fishpond’s lightweight and durable Lost Trail Wading Staff will give you some Daredevil-level moves while either hiking or wading. And we wager if you get into a streamside turf war with a baboon it will come in handy there too. fishpondusa.com, www.frontierflyfishing.co.za

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Q REEL

OPTIMISED PERFORMANCE MEETS CUTTING EDGE ENGINEERING

AVAILABLE IN SOUTH AFRICA EXCLUSIVELY AT

FLYFISHING Mavungana Flyfishing Johannesburg 011 268 5850 Dullstroom 013 254 0270 www.flyfishing.co.za

FIND OUT MORE AT LOOPTACKLE.COM

M U S T H AV ES

PAYDAY Photos Tim Davis

The O’Dell Creek Gang with Yvon Chouinard at right

SIMPLE FLY FISHING: TECHNIQUES FOR TENKARA AND ROD AND REEL – YVON CHOUINARD Fred Davis of Feathers & Fluoro writes:

In a world where we have allowed fly fishing to become an endless complexity of techniques and choices, Simple Fly Fishing: Techniques for Tenkara and Rod and Reel by Patagonia founder Yvon Chouinard takes it all back to simple. But don’t be fooled, this is no beginner’s guide to catching a fish on a feathered hook. The book, in a paradoxical kind of way (because let’s be fair, we fly fishers love to complicate our lives), leads the reader back to simplifying many of the concepts that have become convoluted by opinion and supposed expertise.

Drawing on years of fishing wisdom and unique experiences, Chouinard - along with Craig Mathews and Mauro Mazzo - explores the journey of simplifying your fishing. As might be expected, much of the writing is dedicated to one of the simplest ways of presenting a fly, the humble Tenkara. While Tenkara is often viewed as the ‘hippy’ version of fly fishing by many of us flat cap -wearing, social media-addicted new generation fly fishers, the book gently presents the idea of no reel fly fishing in a manner that enlightens even the most double hauling-oriented amongst us. While there are no new groundbreaking, epiphany-like concepts or methods presented, there is an honest and wisdom-filled discussion on topics that every freshwater fly fisher spends their lives trying to master.

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The beautiful illustrations by renowned artist James Prosek and a myriad of inspiring pictures that accompany the personal stories and observations alone make it worth a read. www.patagonia.com

FLATS TRIPS & GEAR • Simms Intruder Boots • Shilton SR Series • Cortland Lines • Costa Glasses • Varivas Leader

STREAMS TRIPS & GEAR • Simms Freestone Boots • Scott G Series Rods • Rio Gold Lines • Trout Hunter Tippet • Shilton CL & CR Series Reels

LOCAL SALT TRIPS & GEAR • Airflo Cold Salt Lines • Simms Freestone Waders • Shilton Reels

upstream_flyfishing

New Website & Online Shop Now Live

Upstream Flyfishing fish@upstreamflyfishing.co.za www.upstreamflyfishing.co.za 274 MAINROAD, KENILWORTH, CAPE TOWN, SA, 7708

TEL: +27 (0)21 762 8007

SHORTCASTS

C A P TA I N J A C K / T E X A S R A N G E R , @ F LY P R I C K S I S K I L L I N G I T, K A R O O B O O Z E , E C O - F R I E N D LY S E Y C H E L L E S A N D A W E A P O N OF MASS DESTRUCTION. CHECK OUT The 2019 Fly Fishing Film Tour Stoke Reel. Featuring Glorious Bastards the latest from Capt. Jack (aka Jako Lucas) about the amazing salt action of northern Australia, a quick dive into the history of the legendary Alphlexo crab fly with Keith Rose-Innes and many other strong flicks, this will whet your appetite for when the tour roles in to your town later this year. flyfilmtour.com

CONSIDER... ....the Seahorse or more specifically, the 20+ endangered Knysna Sea Horses found in the stomach of a spotted grunter caught on South Africa’s Garden Route area. We obsess over prawn and crab patterns for grunter, but why the hell did nobody ever think about a Seahorse fly? Local fly guru Leroy Botha is on the case.

LeRoy Botha’s Knysna Seahorse proto-type. IG @leroy_botha

SIGN UP… … for the Wild Trout Festival in Rhodes, Eastern Cape from the 16th to the 20th of March. Affectionately known as the Centre of the Universe to any fly angler who has made the pilgrimage the greater Rhodes/Barkley East area is one of South Africa’s most revered fishing destinations with mile upon mile of incredible water to fish. Attendees congregate around Walkerbouts Inn, attempt to trim owner Dave Walker’s beard for use in fly tying, eat, drink, be merry, tell fishy stories, lose themselves to the streams for several days and repeat. info@wildtrout.co.za

BEWARE… …the flesh-eating GTs of Farquhar. The details are still vague, but travel risk experts Global Rescue recently had to evacuate a client who got bitten on the foot by a GT.

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For your nearest dealer contact Frontier Distribution on info@frontierflyfishing.co.za

CLOBBER

ONE BOOT TO RULE THEM ALL? L E O N A R D F L E M M I N G G O T A N A D VA N C E P A I R O F P ATA G O N I A’ S N E W R I V E R S A LT B O O T S M A D E I N C O L L A B O R AT I O N W I T H LEGENDARY US BOOT BRAND, DANNER (REMEMBER THEIR RIVER GRIPPER WA D I N G B O OTS F R O M T H E 8 0 S ? ) . U P M O U N TA I N S , T H R O U G H R I V E R S A N D ACROSS ESTUARIES AND BEACHES, LEONARD PUT THEM TO THE TEST FOR T H R E E M O N T H S . H E R E ’ S H I S TA K E . Photos Leonard Flemming

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Nosey-ass redfin minnows attend the wetting ceremony.

carefully placed my foot on the snotty mass covering the rock. I’ve learnt to wade carefully whenever the slimy, yellow-green algae was around as I’ve fractured my elbow after slipping on that gross stuff once. This time the soles gripped and I was going nowhere near the water with my butt. I was wading new terrain with fresh boots to catch one of South Africa’s most elusive indigenous fishes, the Clanwilliam yellowfish. I might not have caught a fish of a lifetime that day, but it was a memorable outing nonetheless as it was a great confidence booster to walk care-free over slippery rocks. The Patagonia River Salt’s earned my trust. Many people talk ankle support when they’re searching for new wading shoes and boots; for me it’s all about the grip. I’ve found that with good grip (i.e., softer rubber), ankle support becomes less important as you automatically wobble less when planted firmly on terra firma. Once I got a grip with the new Patagonia boots after several trips in and out the water, I really let loose and boulder hopping was as comfortable as jumping on a pocket spring mattress.

ANKLE OFF So, besides the excellent grip that the clearly carefully selected Vibram soles on the River Salt’s offer adventurous fishermen, these boots do actually have great ankle support as well. They may be termed ‘wading boots’, but I’ve comfortably hiked long distances in them, even in wet boots. The high nylon upper and tight fit from a beautifully designed lacing system over a soft leather tongue also very effectively prevents sand granules and little stones from entering the boot. That’s a serious bonus. I fished them hard in rough terrain and tripped over loose stones, but there was never a moment where I felt like my ankle came close to twisting. Therefore I can vouch with confidence that you could hike for miles to get to your favourite fishing hole in these boots without worrying about snapping an ankle.

SOUND INVESTMENT Nothing frustrates me more than spooking fish, which is why I often fish alone, unless I’m guiding. Too many people on the water and the wrong boots will send most fish, but especially large cyprinids like Clanwilliam yellows, scurrying for cover. I enjoy a stealthy approach no matter which fish I’m after though and hard soles or clumsy boots clonking along free-stone rivers just don’t do it for me. The River Salts may seem bulky when you first try them on, but I was pleasantly surprised to see how agile and subtle one could be in them. Another big advantage is their colour; that natural olive/grey nylon and leather combo will not reveal your presence to fish in fresh or saltwater. WEIGHTY MATTERS There has been division in my angling circles about wading boots and weight is a common topic of discussion. These boots are not super light. However, when I think about it, weight and durability are generally inversely proportional terms in footwear (and many other things!). While I swear by expensive, heavy leather boots that have lasted me more than eight years without needing repair, others believe in cheap, lightweight ‘army’ boots made of nylon fabric. The River Salt boots are a perfect balance between both which will hopefully take some weight off your mind when pondering over your next wading boot. STITCH PERFECT Interestingly, one of the first remarks from a Seychelles regular was that the stitching in the toe cap lining leather of the River Salt boot was too close to the tip of the boot; apparently a common error on wading boots exposing the stitching to easy wear and tear from sharp coral. I paid special attention to this on the River Salt boots and to be honest tropical coral flats were not available for testing around the Western Cape in the last three months, so my comment is purely qualitative, but I am not concerned about this. They may take a beating from rough rocks and sharp coral, but I believe that the three rows of thick stitching on the nose will take

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a very long time to wear through to the point that the leather and nylon fabric parts. I’m also not too fussed about wearing through stitching or nylon fabric on these boots as they were built with the intention to be repaired whenever necessary. However, while I think there are no glitches in the stitches I stand to be corrected. While I’m on the topic, another area where I noted wear was on the nylon strip running down the back upper of the boot, particularly where this nylon loop strip comes into contact with the heal leather. This might be purely cosmetic though and may not influence the structure and strength

Karoo bouncer Clanwilliam yellows control the redfin. of the boot – and again should be straight forward to repair in the Danner factory. The only other ‘glitch’ that I came across while fishing in these boots was that a fly line got easily trapped on the rubber ridge under the toe cap of the boot. This may be due to my own ignorant or excited stripping while fishing, but whenever line was stripped onto the bank or in shallow water it easily slipped in there and got stuck. Initially, this created special awareness of where my line was whenever I wasn’t using a stripping basket and an intentional effort to clear my line before casting to a sighted fish, which was not a bad

habit to acquire. I quickly got used to keeping slack line well away from me and now it doesn’t bother me anymore. DOWN THE DRAIN Like a first year student would drain his glass of beer these boots dump water like you won’t believe. They drain refreshingly fast and their grip remains good even when wet – did I mention they have great grip? Something else that really stood out was the integrity of the leather used in these boots. It was one of the first things I noticed when after spending a weekend wading in a river or in saltwater (although I must admit that I do rinse all my shoes and boots with

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tap water after walking in the sea) the leather remained soft and the boots kept their shape when dried. My findings were confirmed after reading the product review by Sam Wike from North 40 Fly Shop: “The leather dries quickly, is extremely durable and doesn’t shrink or deteriorate when it gets wet.” Aha! So nice to see a theory come into practical play and actually, notably working as planned. Apparently the leather is also not just any old cow, but a type of leather that was developed by Danner for United States Special Forces – that’s like incorporating real-time satellite view into a fishing boot! It’s revolutionary in my view. Well done Patagonia and Danner.

Which finally brings me to the price; I noticed a lot of social media complaints about the $450 and $500 price tags on Patagonia’s new River Salt and Foot Tracker boots, respectively. I must mention that I’ve been disappointed of late with the rapid deterioration of especially fly fishing apparel and have reason to be sceptical about footwear (I think most people would know what I am talking about here). For instance, when I guided in the Mongolian outback for taimen a while back I relied on ‘specially designed’ wading shoes produced by a well-known fishing fashion brand. To my disgust the shoes fell apart in two weeks. It was embarrassing to wear them in front of clients, never mind the physical discomfort they caused. I later saw those shoes retail for about $200. To be straight, I’d much rather spend $450-500 on something trusty and durable that could last years than waste $200-$250 (the price range of the majority of wading shoes and boots) on gear that will fail untimely. Also, the new range of Patagonia/ Danner collaboration boots are reparable which means that you won’t be throwing a ‘broken’ pair in the bin. Instead, you can get your comfortable worn-in boots repaired and keep marching. Look, I’m not rich and it would definitely take some saving before I could afford the River Salt boots, but knowing what they are capable of I would certainly buy them and can recommend them to any serious fisherman. They are built tough, are reparable, and could therefore last a decade or even longer. It’s not like you’ll be throwing $500 down the drain. We live in an era of planned obsolescence, where products are designed to be used and replaced. To build a wading boot that’s designed to do the opposite is brave, but so far I’m a believer. Patagonia/Danner River Salt boots are available at www.patagonia.com

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“THEY ARE BUILT TOUGH, ARE REPARABLE, AND COULD THEREFORE LAST A DECADE OR EVEN LONGER.”

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THE LIFER

THE SAGE FROM AIR BUBBLES ON THE BUTTS OF DIVING BEETLES A N D U LT R A - L I G H T TA C K L E TA C T I C S F O R S M A L L S T R E A M S , T O I N V E S T I G A T I V E TA K E - D O W N S O F C R O O K S A N D C O R R U P T P O L I T I C I A N S , L E G E N D A R Y S O U T H A F R I C A N F LY F I S H E R ED HERBST HAS SEEN IT ALL Photos Sean Mills

When I was about five years old I used to visit the Durban Amphitheatre on the North Beach which had goldfish ponds. I had bread for chumming and a small stick to which was attached a short piece of nylon and a hook. When the park keeper was not around I would feed the fish and then chuck the stick into the water with bread molded to the hook. Looking like an innocent bystander I would watch the twig being pulled around by an indignant gold fish which would, in due course, be released. So I was, from an early age, a catch and release angler. My next catch was a yellowfish on bait in the Wilge River near Swinburne in the Orange Free State. Then I caught bass on spinner in farm dams near Ixopo and finally, when the SABC transferred me to Cape Town in 1978, I joined the Cape Piscatorial Society and realised a long-held ambition to start fly fishing. I live in a retirement home in Cape Town because I am no longer able to drive and struggle to walk because of a rare neurological condition I contracted in 2010. I spend most of my day in front of my computer writing not-for-profit articles about the interface between politics and media which are carried on websites like Biznews, Rational Standard and Media Online. I am no longer able to fish but I tie flies for friends who do. I’ve lived in Durban, Pietermaritzburg, Pretoria and Cape Town and, for a few months after I became ill, in Rhodes in the Eastern Cape.

Cape Town is one of the most popular tourist destinations in the world because it has everything. It has the sea and the mountains in close proximity; world-class restaurants and a variety of fly fishing venues within a two-hour drive from the city centre. Furthermore, its municipality is routinely rated by government as the most efficient and least corrupt in South Africa. I have never been interested in exploring fly fishing’s diversity because my sole focus was on fishing small mountain streams with ultradelicate tackle. My stream of choice was the Holsloot near Rawsonville because it is close to Cape Town, accessible and, because it is not near any national roads, safe. I worked as a clerk on the Pietermaritzburg railway station and for the Pietermaritzburg municipality before getting my lucky break and joining the local Natal Witness newspaper in 1968. I joined the South African Broadcasting Corporation’s news department in 1977 soon after television was introduced and asked for early retirement in 2005 because of pervasive ANC-linked corruption and unaddressed concerns about the abuse and exploitation of staff. I was unemployed for a year but then joined the media department of the Cape Town municipality as a consultant in 2007 before illness cut short that stage of my career in 2010. The best advice I’ve ever been given? Two decades ago,

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senior members of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation held workshops for SABC news personnel and one of them was on conflict resolution. They made the point that one’s reaction to adverse inputs – insults etc. – was a matter of choice. One could shrug them off or resort to violence. Unfortunately the deities did not provide us with a preen gland which would enable us to have a ‘water off a duck’s back’ response to unpleasant people, but I get better at this as I get older – the ‘life’s too short’ approach. The second came from Nelson Mandela – that hate harms the hater more than the hated I am most proud of the fact that I am now in my 50th year as a journalist and I am still as enthusiastic about the calling as ever. I’m also proud of the dozen years I spent as editor of Piscator, journal of the Cape Piscatorial Society. Together with the help of web page designer Sunet van Antwerpen of Virtual 24/7, I have managed to get the best articles from Piscator since 1947 on to the CPS website. I have also co-authored, with Peter Brigg, the book South African Fishing Flies – an Anthology of Milestone Patterns. The best party trick I have ever seen? As a non-smoking teetotaler who has never indulged in licentious behaviour during a life dedicated to abstemious decorum, I am unable to provide any meaningful response to this question.

I’m the world’s worst procrastinator but I respond well to deadline pressure – eventually.

That was probably the first and last fly it ever saw in its life and it looked bewildered when I released it.

The most satisfying fish I ever caught was on the Holsloot. There’s a long pool – about five times longer than my best cast on a good day with a strong upstream breeze. The right bank is sheer rock face. The left bank is shrouded in impenetrable bush which extends beyond the head of the pool. I knew that there must be a good fish at the head of the pool where the current slacked off. Using my trusty Gerber folding blade-saw, I hacked my way in. It probably took about ten minutes of hard, sweaty work. There was no room to cast so I simply drifted a dry caddis pattern downstream which was instantly seized by rainbow trout of about 16 inches – a trophy for that stream.

My go to drink? As a founder member of the Saxonwold Shebeen Temperance League I cannot provide a meaningful response to this question although, a lifetime of sobriety was probably motivated by a ferocious babelas induced by overconsumption of port when I was 14 years old. If liquor was to be forced down my throat, I would probably choose - under extreme duress - gin and tonic. Tanqueray please or one of the new fynbos blends. A place and time I’d never like to go back to was when, as a reporter for SABC TV news (and one of the world’s leading authorities on acrophobia), I was sent to Beaufort

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West a few hours’ drive from Cape Town in the early 1990s. A bus had been fired on, we presumed by members of the PAC who were very militant at the time. Had we driven back with the footage, we would not have made the deadline for that evening’s news, so a single engine plane was hired. The plane was buffeted by strong wind and, as we flew over the mountains near Cape Town, we were so low that I felt I could have leaned out and touched them. My palms were pretty sweaty when, with a huge sense of relief, we landed in Cape Town. A place I’d love to return to is what I called Paradise Valley on the Swith stream, a tributary of the Luzie on the Naude’s Nek Pass between Rhodes and Maclear. It is easily accessible, home to beautiful

San paintings, full of sizeable trout and I doubt if it sees an angler in a decade. Fly fishermen don’t lie – they just have very warm recollections of halcyon days, while the less successful trips tend to recede in the memory. The handiest survival skill I have is an innate belief that many politicians are not to be trusted. To have lived one’s life as a musician, a singer or a dancer must be enormously fulfilling. When facing one’s fears, speaking for myself, I would run as fast as possible in the opposite direction. Before I die, I’d like to finish a book on media capture since the ANC came to power in 1994.

Fly fishing has for centuries captivated commoners and kings and part of its charm is that it is multifaceted, being both outdoor pursuit and craft. Probably its best facet for me is the enduring friendships I have made and benefited from. If I could change one thing in fly fishing it would be to see the water extraction problem on the Witte stream resolved, but there is no political will from the authorities involved. Read my article ‘The Trout and the Farmer’ on the CPS website – www.piscator.com. Looking back on my life, if I could do anything differently, I would pay greater heed and to a greater extent try to implement the advice contained in the book ‘Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus’. Something I have changed my mind

about is the need for a multitude of fly patterns. There is always poignancy when a much-loved facet of your life is ended through age and infirmity. On my last visit to Barkly East after I lost my mobility through illness, Tom Sutcliffe took me down to the Sterkspruit on Basie and Carien Vosloo’s farm, Birkhall. Carrying a small camping stool he helped me down to the water’s edge but my heart wasn’t in it because the constantly-changing chess game of moving from one section of the river to the next was no longer available to me. From my fixed position I eventually caught a small trout on a nymph, but I urged Tom to carry on fishing and slowly made my way back to the truck using the carbon fibre wading staff that Stephen Boshoff had made me but that I knew I would never need again.

“PROBABLY ITS BEST FACET FOR ME IS THE ENDURING FRIENDSHIPS I HAVE MADE AND BENEFITED FROM.” 96

W W W. T H E M I S S I O N F LY M A G . C O M

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