The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine Issue #23 by The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine

ISSUE 23 SEPT/OCT 2020

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It’s All Home Water. We’re lucky. We’ve always had fly fishing to entertain, comfort and console us. Thoughts of mid-morning hatches, last-cast sunsets and late-night campfires have kept us sane. It’s all still there, generous as ever, and we’re grateful. But our gratitude isn’t enough. We cannot allow ourselves to squander what we love and have missed so dearly. Now, more than ever, is the time to stand for the waters we stand in and fight for a wild, fishable future. Join us. Ella Paini and her mom, Millie, ponder the fly box before stepping into the Henry’s Fork for a mid-summer evening session. SEAN KERRICK SULLIVAN © 2020 Patagonia, Inc.

W W W . T H E M I S S I O N F LY M A G . C O M ISSUE 23 SEPT / OCT 2020

CONTENTS The Hills Are Alive with the Sound of Moooozak. Marina Gibson takes a moment to greet the locals while fishing in Austria. Story on page 38. Photo Stephan Dombaj

28 CHISELLED

When science and life goals collide, someone always gets hurt as Leonard Flemming discovers.

38 THE HILLS ARE ALIVE

Germany and Austria in summer with barbel, massive browns, pike, brook trout, grayling and more - who knew? Marina Gibson reports on a dozen days with the Fly Fishing Nation crew.

54 LIVE AT RED ROCKS

James Kirsten and a few friends hit the Orange river and lose themselves in the gorge. Heartbreak and high fives ensue.

70 ON THE TRAIL OF THE CASSOWARY

From sooty grunter to barramundi, jungle perch and trout, Gerald Penkler takes on an unusual slam Down Under.

94 LEVEL HEADED

After 70-odd days with no fishing, Graham Weakley and a few friends break out of prison and get stuck into topwater bass. The relief is palpable.

REGULAR FEATURES 14 Wish List Fish 16 The Little Guy & The Tip 18 Booze & Barbs & Bass 24 Munchies 26 Undercurrents

30 High 5s 84 Salad Bar 90 Pay Day 102 Lifer 112 Pop Quiz

Marina Gibson with a brace of grayling caught on small mountain streams in Austria. Photo Stephan Dombaj

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

Photo. Body

SPRING BREAK

I had an ex who used to have this exceptionally irritating saying. “Just be.” As in, “I went away this weekend and it was so special. We were with great people and it was so relaxed, no egos, I could just…be.” I knew in a hippy-dippy shuhwhoo kind of way, what she was trying to say, but for reasons of self-preservation whenever I heard it (while my eyes rolled internally at speed like a malfunctioning slot machine), I held my tongue. I mean seriously. If you are not being, what they hell are you doing? You’re dead, ya idjit! I’ve been thinking about that “just be” phrase recently as our river season opens down in the Western Cape of South Africa. It’s not just the Cape streams, it’s spring around here so everything is starting to open up and throw off winter’s cloak. There is literally snow on Table Mountain as I write this, but I am as sure as I was of a Clinton victory in 2016 that we are definitely past the winter hump day. The Orange river is beginning to fire (check out James Kirsten’s story on page 54), people are starting to catch more frequently on the Breede, the reports of clannies and smallmouth bass and topwater largemouth bass are trickling in. Even though it is months till the end of the year, there’s a sense that Christmas or some sort of festivity (Happy New Vaccine Day!) is just around the corner.

Maybe I am just going slightly nuts as a result of being locked up for so long. That’s the thing, due to the weirdness of what’s happened in 2020, I’ve spent way too much of this year away from running water in an office that’s about 2,5m x 4m. Every crooked centimeter of my body (that has now shaped itself to my desk like a cockroach freeze-dried to a slap tjip), is aching to be outside. I’m desperate to find balance both wobbling on river rocks while fishing and in life in general. Once I am done with a last few major deadlines, the thing I am looking forward to most is the fishing, both with friends and on my own. Both of those parts are important. A large part of the appeal of fly fishing for us at The Mission, as evidenced by the bonhomie-charged stories that litter our pages, is sharing time on the water with buddies (for an example of that check out what Marina Gibson got up to the with the Fly Fishing Nation guys in Germany and Austria on page 38). That’s been a huge part of why this year has sucked so much. I’ve missed my fishing friends. Sure, we’ve caught up on Zoom over lockdown and more recently met up for the odd socially distanced coffee or beer, but I’ve missed that proper whack of quality time spent on weekends away on the coast or up distant mountain valleys. That said, what I think I am most looking forward to when I get back on to the water is that moment when whichever friend I am fishing with shoots ahead upstream for a 100m or so. I’ll be left to focus on fishing a bunch of runs, pools and riffles on my own. I can just…be.

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TH E M I SSI O N F LYM AG. C O M

Morning oats at Red Rocks, Orange River. Photo. James Pereira

EDITOR Tudor Caradoc-Davies ART DIRECTOR Brendan Body CONTACT THE MISSION The Mission Fly Fishing Mag (PTY) Ltd 25 Firth Road, Rondebosch, 7700, Cape Town, South Africa info@themissionflymag.com www.themissionflymag.com

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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 WILL BE FORCED TO SWIM THROUGH A TAMPON MIGRATION THEN DUSTED WITH HIPPO DANDRUFF BEFORE GETTING DEEP-FRIED.

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CONTRIBUTORS #23 Alex McLeod, Leonard Flemming, James Kirsten, Gerald Penkler, Graham Weakley, Keep Fish Wet, PJ Vadas, Dan Factor, Christian Fry, Jimmy Eagleton PHOTOGRAPHERS #23 Stephan Dombaj, Rob Kyle, Ruari Harrison, James Pereira, Daniel Duncan, Suzanne Penkler, Garth Wellman, Ryan Janssens, Andre van Wyk, Christian Fry, Brendan Body

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WISHLIST FISH

PURPLE LABEO THE COLOUR OF BARNEY THE DINOSAUR AND WITH AN APPETITE FOR H I P P O D A N D R U F F, T H I S B U S H B E A U T Y I S A S W E I R D A N D W O N D E R F U L A S LEONARD FLEMMING REPORTS. JUST BE CAREFUL OF TYPOS WHEN YOU G O O G L E I T A N D C R O C S W H E N Y O U L O O K F O R I T. Photo. Garth Wellman

Danie Pienaar and Leonard Flemming with an indignant purple labeo. WHAT: The hippo, the Nile crocodile and the purple labeo (Labeo congoro), are truly African creatures. They share rivers and even sensual antics. Orgies of purple labeo ‘massaging’ hippos are a wellknown phenomenon, leaving characteristic tracks as they nibble off algae and tasty bits of exfoliating skin. Although they seem to graze mostly on algae and periphyton, these are opportunistic fish that will have a go at any nutritious thing they come across. When I was a guide in Tanzania I watched them feed gregariously on a buffalo carcass in the Mnyera River. They grow big, like 10 lb big, and are not that scarce. It is not uncommon to catch one; in fact, I’ve seen more fly fisherman pose with purple labeo across Africa than I’ve heard about anglers being eaten by crocs. WHERE: In Southern Africa they are present in the warmer parts of the Zambezi River and the Incomati system. They also occur further north in the Congo basin, Malagarasi River in Lake Tanganyika and in Tanzania. HOW: I would not consider myself an expert at catching them, but between Jeff Tyser, Garth Wellman and myself, we’ve figured out that they take an interest in UV and hotspot nymphs and caddis larva patterns. As eagerly as these purple beavers seem to engulf

your carrot, that classic labeo ‘undermouth’ makes it hard for them to actually get the fly inside the mouth and they are often hooked in the rubbery ‘lips’ as they try to pin the fly down on to rocks. Since they don’t actively hunt down stripped flies like predatory fish do, sight fishing is probably the only way to get a proper shot at one. Gentle presentations with smallish weighted flies tied to thin tippet (5-6X fluoro) on to rocks ahead of a grazing fish, so that the current pushes the flies into the fish, will give you the best chance. A hungry or ‘aggressive’ fish will react quite positively to a fly, moving purposefully to and over the fly to try and eat it. They are strong and have a lot of endurance, but they fight clean and a 3-weight can be used, which will also help with accurate, subtle presentations at short range – you can get quite close to them by keeping low. WHO: The areas where these fish live are for the more adventurous fly fisherman – adrenalin junkie material. Be alert and be prepared to run away from dangerous wildlife wherever you walk along rivers in the wilder parts of Africa to stalk fish. Although tempting to wade in the shallows where schools of purple labeo feed, it is probably best to stay out of the water and away from drop-offs where crocodiles can ambush you.

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The Trump administration and its enablers have an unprecedented record of regulatory negligence, environmental malice and selling our public lands to the highest bidder. Their policies endanger our wild fi sh, pollute our waters and threaten millions of green jobs and billions in tax revenue. Currently, 65 percent of trout and salmon habitat in Alaska’s Tongass National Forest is unprotected at the watershed scale. COLIN ARISMAN © 2020 Patagonia, Inc.

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DON’T LET A FEW PEOPLE DESTROY OUR HOME WATER

THE LITTLE GUY

SHAUN FUTTER IN SHAUN FUTTER’S SKILLED H A N D S T H E F I N E S T N AT U R A L WOOD WILL TRANSFORM INTO THE PRIDE AND JOY OF YOUR FISHING GEAR

Who are you and what do you do? My name is Shaun Futter and I handcraft a range of fly boxes, landing nets and other fly fishing-related items from my workshop in Durban, South Africa. I stumbled into woodworking around five years ago after acquiring a few tools geared towards home maintenance and DIY, with the intention of sprucing up the home we had recently moved into. Having often marvelled at the creations of a few other local craftsmen producing beautiful landing nets, bamboo fly rods and other items, I was inspired to try my hand at making a net. After a few initial failures, I ended up with a couple of examples which came out reasonably well and that I gave away to friends. As I improved my skills and with them, the quality of my products, friends and family encouraged me to offer my creations for sale. A good mate even suggested I create my own brand, and so Trutta Angling Accessories came to be. What do you specialise in? Fly boxes and landing nets are the products I am most often asked to make for people. I have a range of models of each that I’ve developed and refined over the past few years, with a few more on the horizon. That said, I really enjoy it when I’m commissioned to craft bespoke, one-off items that push me out of my comfort zone and allow the creative juices to flow uninhibited. So, while I continue to make and develop my own line of products, I’ll take on pretty much any sort of commission that piques my interest. I find inspiration in the incredibly beautiful natural woods that Mother Nature produces, that routinely take my breath away. I am happiest when I am able to achieve an end result in my products that accentuates and showcases this natural beauty in a manner that does not detract or in any way overpower it. Creating usable pieces, that then go on to develop their own stories and life experiences with their angler owners in various parts of the world, is very satisfying.

What should we look out for? I couldn’t be any more excited for the future of Trutta Angling Accessories. Having recently stepped away from a 25-year career in IT, I am currently devoting my full attention to taking my brands, products and ideas to the next level. I’ve spent several months sourcing some of the most incredible indigenous and exotic burl woods that I’ve ever seen, and will be offering a premium range of products made from these rare, beautiful materials, alongside my existing range made from carefully chosen, beautifully figured hardwoods. My workshop has undergone a complete overhaul that will see me increasingly taking on commissions for fly-fishing related furniture pieces and the like. I’m looking forward to expanding into other niche interest areas too, like bespoke audio-related products. Check out Shaun’s work at truttaangling.com, follow him on Facebook.com/TruttaAnglingAccessories and on Instagram @Trutta_Angling

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THE TIP

GENTLY DOES IT We get it, you’re excited. You just caught your first bluegill, trout, mullet or goldfish on fly and you want a damn photo to prove to the Insta-hordes that you too can fool fish with a feather trap. Now, assuming you want to release it back into the water, calm down. Transition from thrash metal to slow jazz and let the excitement leave your rod-gripping knuckles. Keep Fish Wet weighs in with what to do next.

BAD “Fish have sensitive internal organs, so hold them gently without squeezing. Avoid placing your hand over their mouth and gills since this obstructs breathing. If a fish is bigger than your hand, use both hands to hold it. With larger fish, grip the base of the tail with “A-Ok” finger formation and gently support the body close to the pelvic fins. Consider keeping very large fish in the water – for their safety and yours.” Keepfishwet.org

GOOD

BOOZE & BARBS & BASS

THE PUB NIGEL’S A PL ACE IN THE KAROO TO WORSHIP BOTH WHOPPERS A N D W H I S K Y.

here are many reasons to go to Somerset East. They have got an annual biltong festival for one. There’s the Walter Battiss Art Museum. Then they also have incredible mountain biking opportunities including 30km of single track around Boschberg Mountain. But for you dear reader, perhaps the most relevant drawcard is the vast array of freshwater fly fishing on offer in terms of both waters and fish species. The man who is almost singlehandedly responsible for showing us the potential of fly fishing in the Karoo is Alan Hobson, owner of the Angler & Antelope (anglerandantelope.co.za) and your local fly guide with Wild Fly Fishing in the Karoo (wildflyfishinginthekaroo. co.za). Alan is also the guy likely to be pouring you a dram in Nigel’s, the Angler & Antelope’s deconsecrated Roman Catholic church, that is now a pub with an impressive whisky collection. We caught up with Alan for the skinny on the fishing and a few whisky recommendations.

From September through to the end of the year, what can visiting anglers expect? Spring and summer, supposedly, bring on the rainy season. Spring day for us in the Karoo is more like the 23rd of September. September and October are regarded as prime months. However, our rainfall has been coming two months later for the past number of years. As the

days become longer and warm up it opens up all our fly fishing opportunities. We are able to target both rainbow and brown trout in the still waters and rainbows in the river systems. Technical fishing with micropatterns, the possibility of good evening hatches of mayfly, caddis and midge, casting to feeding fish, or targeting big fish where you would least expect them. Smallmouth yellow fish, moggel, Orange River mudfish, carp and barbel become a lot more active in both the Great and Little Fish River systems and the dams that hold water from them. We have developed some trophy yellow fish in still waters, with smallmouth up to 3,5kg. The bass fishing comes into its own around this time of year, with top water opportunities for largemouth bass up to 5kg. Something unusual for the big guns is sight fishing to feeding barbell… monsters, in rooibos tea coloured water. Just to get your adrenalin pumping, expect to be bumped while wading as they come and inspect to see if you are edible. We are, after all, offering fly fishing where dinosaur-like reptiles once roamed. Is there a record for the number of species ticked off in a day? Having four biomes within 25km offers as much diversity in landscapes as it does fly fishing opportunities. Only a handful of anglers have achieved the “Hobson’s Choice” challenge:

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ONLY A HANDFUL OF ANGLERS HAVE ACHIEVED THE “HOBSON’S CHOICE” CHALLENGE: TO CATCH A TROUT, YELLOWFISH AND BASS, ON FLY, OVER 30CM IN THE SAME DAY.

to catch a trout, yellowfish and bass, on fly, over 30cm in the same day. Our barbel fisheries have only recently come into their own, which would spice the daily challenge up a little more to add a fourth species. Catching moggel, mudfish and carp has also been done on fly, not in the same day though and, if we add tilapia to the mix, we can target eight fresh water species. If you are not guiding or running the lodge, where do you like to fish the most at this time of year? We are certainly spoilt for choice, which is very much determined by the weather that sets off the insect life. If and where we have had rain sparks life into the Karoo where rainfall is often erratic and localised. You can have a cloudburst on one side of the mountain and, as the crow flies, literally, two kilometres on the other side of the mountain, there is nothing. Fresh water flowing down the tributaries of the Little and Great Fish River systems jolts the yellowfish into swimming upstream in search of greener pastures and induces the search for spawning grounds. After a few days, when the water has settled and roads are accessible, one can sight fish the yellows in the pools. This phenomenon does not happen often or regularly, so one’s choices are opportunistic.

The hotter days are great for barbel throughout the day and also offer spectacular evening rises for trout. Let’s not forget small stream fishing for trout in an indigenous forest either. When the dragonflies are abundant, hunting trophy bass is an adventure on its own, as the dam offers grassy areas for wildlife to graze… including buffalo. Essential gear, tackle and flies for your area? Definitely, sunscreen, hat, good Polaroid glasses and a jersey, as it can get cold in the evenings. Tackle depends on the species you would like to target but, if you are restricted with luggage space, a 5 or 6-weight rod would suffice with a floating line. We seldom use intermediate or sinking lines here. We have plenty of sizeable water for those that enjoy kick boating, and wading is user friendly. If the plan is to target barbel, then don’t bring a knife to a gun fight. Bring the big stick as these Karoo mermaids will give you a rev and they get big. Flies are my obsession, my insatiable journey of pleasure, which I love sharing and they are available in my fly shop, custom tied and developed to target all the species in the area. Don’t bring your pellet fly imitations; our fish are wild and a little more choosy. - Wild Fly Fishing - wildflyfishinginthekaroo.co.za

BOOZE & BARBS & BASS

ALAN’S DRAM OF CHOICE I F S O M E B O D Y H A S H A D A C R A C K I N G D AY ’ S F I S H I N G A N D T H E Y WA N T A C E L E B R AT O R Y D R A M , W H AT ’ S Y O U R R E C O M M E N D AT I O N F R O M T H E W H I S K Y C O L L E C T I O N ?

• If it was a rough windy day I would suggest a bold, rugged single malt like Oban or Talisker. • A slow relaxing calm day on top of the mountain, then Dalwhinnie is your go to single malt, roughly meaning “meeting place high up in the mountains. • When one experiences the warm anabatic, upslope winds at Mountain Dam and the mist rolls in engulfing the water, it quickly becomes so thick that you battle to see your hand in front of you, nothing beats a peaty dram like Caol Ila or Laphroaig. • Mountain Dam is on top of the Boschberg in the grassveld biome, appropriately Glenfarclas, meaning “valley of grass”, springs to mind.

• Our most photographed landscape is the Naude’s River and the waterfall, so I would recommend Speyburn as it is the most photographed distillery in Scotland. • When we head out to the Karoo biome to hunt the giants in the river, this experience is complimented by the smell of the Karoo bush, best expressed in the taste of Glendronach, the dram we pair with our Karoo lamb. • After a satisfying day my favourites are Bruichladdich or Lagavulin. • If you have been smoked by a good barbel, BenRaich will pick up your spirits. - Angler & Antelope - anglerandantelope.co.za

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MUNCHIES

WASTE NOT, WANT NOT AWARD -WI NNI NG CH E F PJ VA DA S O F VA DAS S M O KE HOUSE ( VA DAS . C O. ZA ) S H OWS U S H OW, ES PECI ALLY WI T H GA LJO E N, A LI T T L E F I SH CA N G O A LO NG WAY. Photos. Andre van Wyk

ay “BBQ “in South Africa and the first chef to get mentioned will be PJ Vadas. It would be easy to peg him as just a guy with ‘lekker braai skills,’ but he has a pedigree that belies the unpretentious nature of what he does for a living. Having trained under grande fromages like Roger Verge in France and Gordon Ramsay in the UK, PJ made a name for himself at a string of high-end fine dining restaurants both in South Africa and abroad. Then, like Edward VIII, he renounced the la-di-da life of fine dining to focus instead on the honesty and deep-rooted flavours of the smokehouse/BBQ scene.

Hang Bal - Hot Fire - Hou Ding

These days he has his own joint, Vadas Smokehouse & Bakery, at Spier Wine Estate in Stellenbosch. Serving up incredible BBQ and bistro fare made from ethically sourced ingredients from Spier’s own Farmer Angus butchery or via the Abalobi app for seafood, it’s the kind of place you can go to – even under lockdown – for long lazy lunches outdoors, under the trees. In fact we’d argue that it is hard to beat a morning on the Cape streams followed by an afternoon spent smashing PJ’s Korean pork belly, smoked beef brisket or buttermilk fried chicken.

“GALJOEN IS AWESOME NOT ONLY BECAUSE IT’S OUR NATIONAL FISH BUT ALSO, BECAUSE IT IS SUPER FATTY AND RICH, IT GOES A LONG WAY. THIS ONE FED FIVE OR SIX GUYS.”

Giving the farm animals a break for a moment, on a recent weekend away along the Overberg coast, PJ and his mates caught and released several kob and galjoen. They kept one galjoen for the braai which, thanks to its rich fatty flesh, fed the whole crew. PJ says, “We never serve galjoen in the restaurant because, due to historical overfishing it is not SASSI green-listed and cannot be bought or sold. A decent substitute that we get from Abalobi is Cape bream. Once a year though, I go fishing during the galjoen season window period with my mates. We practise C&R for almost all the fish we catch but, in keeping with bag limits, we keep one galjoen for the braai.

“You must always bleed a galjoen when you catch it. Then you braai it slowly, high off the coals, to render that fat out almost like a piece of pork. Always control the heat when cooking anything, but especially with fish. Cooking it whole means you don’t waste anything and it almost steams on the inside off the bones. At the restaurant we cook all our fish whole on the fire and because you get to eat all the lekker little goodies out of the head and the collar, there’s no wastage. The fire also gives it great flavour. The only thing you have to be careful about like with most cooking, is controlling the heat. Otherwise it’s very hard to mess it up.”

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GALJOEN ON THE BRAAI

(with a side of broccoli and fennel dressed in a lemon, herb and caper butter)

TENDERSTEM BROCCOLI AND BABY FENNEL WITH CAPER LEMON BUTTER

METHOD FOR GALJOEN Make some incisions on the flesh, making sure you cut down to the bone. Season with salt and stuff the belly with lemon and fennel. Pop into braai grid and slowly grill the fish and turn continuously. Make sure the coals are glowing red but not too hot. No flames. The gentler and slower you grill the fish the better. It’s all about controlling the heat. This should take about 30 to 40min. depending on size of fish. When the flesh starts to pull away from the bone it’s cooked. Serve with some lemon wedges.

250g tenderstem broccoli 250g baby fennel Olive oil Salt 250g butter 50g baby capers in salt (soak in water for 20min) 50ml lemon juice 25g fennel 25g parsley

METHOD FOR BROCCOLI AND FENNEL Toss the fennel and broccoli in a bowl with olive oil and salt. Then braai them on a hot fire to get nice colour. Cook them until they are golden brown but try to keep some crunch in the veggies. While they’re sizzling on the braai, melt the butter in a pan until golden brown. Remove from the heat and add capers, lemon and herbs. When the veggies are ready put them back in the bowl and pour the caper lemon butter over. Toss in the bowl and serve. Lekker.

GALJOEN 1 fresh and fatty galjoen 1 lemon, sliced A few sprigs of fennel Salt 1 braai grid 1 lemon cut into wedges

UNDERCURRENTS

YES, NO, MAYBE WHEN ALEX MCLEOD OF OMNISPOOL (MANUFACTURERS OF THE NIFTY SWITCHBOX LINE MANAGEMENT SYSTEM) LANDED ON THE REMOTE INDIAN OCEAN ARCHIPELAGO OF ST BRANDON’S, HE FOUND HIMSELF IN BONEFISHERS’ HEAVEN. THE GODS WERE SMILING ON HIM AND LIFE WAS JUST PEACHY. HE RELAXED. HE DROPPED HIS GUARD. THEN THINGS CHANGED AND, ALL OF A SUDDEN, THE HUNTER BECAME THE PREY.

t. Brandon’s. Having navigated across the deep blue sea for 36 hours we’d finally landed on the island and in what seemed to be the undiscovered middle of nowhere. We had immediately got stuck into the most truly prolific bonefishing on the planet. A few days later, there were four of us fanned out in an angled line that eventually arrived at a point where the huge flat we were fishing on dropped suddenly away into a deep inside channel. While the rest of us were busy picking off yet more bonefish, the guy closest to the drop off started whooping about a small pack of GTs cruising the drop off. His message was that we should vamoos over there. The first guy up cast and hooked the biggest GT. More crazed hollering and then the second in line joined him and hooked the next one. While the rest of us waded over as fast as we could to get there, further screeching revealed that the other two fish in the pack were trying to take the flies out of the mouths of the hooked ones. Soon, number three was hooked. I eventually pulled up last to see the runt of the litter still plucking at trailing feathers. I dropped a cast and we had four geets on at once. The mayhem was memorable. GT Mayhem. I don’t think any of us had experienced a day like it before, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. One of the fishermen, Huberto, had sighed earlier, as if in a daydream, that he was, “just all boned out” (fine in context). He even suggested that he was going to stop fishing. I pointed out that it was very possible he might never have another bonefishing experience quite like this in his life and that he really ought to stop being so blasé and fish the flat to its end. After the chaos had subsided, we spread out and I waded the drop off in the opposite direction, past waist deep. I was working a big NYAP, prospecting for explosive strikes. I was in that contented daze that seems to happen after the fishing gods truly surprise and smile on you, that state when, if anything had hit me, I would probably have leapt clear of the water in shock. But my peripheral senses were still working and they picked up on something dark in the deeper water some way out. I decided that it must be a large manta ray. I watched it edge nearer, as I mused that things just couldn’t get any better in this aquatic wonderland. Then I noticed that it wasn’t really

manta shaped and that, somewhat alarmingly, it had stripes. It dawned on me then that the thing was closing in on me faster than I was happy with and that I might be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I pushed back towards the safety of skinny water but, as anyone who’s tried it will know, it’s hard to wade fast in deep water, especially backwards, and it makes a lot of noise if you try too hard. In seconds I’d gone from hazy contentment to adrenalin-stoked “concern” and my last few lunges for knee deep water were a shower of spray and high pitched expletives. Very uncool. I turned and the shark came up over the bank on to the flat with a commotion that, to my rattled mind, spelled intent. Finding me no longer where I had been, it came to rest with its back and dorsal fin fully exposed, along with its second dorsal and much of its tail. Ten feet of Tiger shark, ten feet away. I’d been buzzed in the surf on the outside reef the day before by two Lemons (not fruit; or mates) passing behind my legs at speed, one after the other. It had given me a big fright but it was over as fast as it had happened. But this big boy just hung there eyeing me as I readied the blunt end of a fly rod – a defensive toothpick that did not bring much comfort. I’ve seen a barracuda completely ground itself in water three inches deep to snatch a small bonefish and then wriggle off backwards with its prey and I wondered if that was what might be about to go down here. It seemed like an age; it probably wasn’t but, I swear, as I stood looking into that soulless eye, I could feel it calculating, ’Yes, no, maybe… ‘ By now I was ankle deep, on points, like a ballerina, heart thumping. Then a heavy swirl and it was somehow gone. The very sudden transition from happily in control to potentially in big trouble is giddy and sobering, especially if you are entirely alone when it happens. It still makes me shiver. I didn’t venture any deeper for the rest of the day and remained on high alert. I know that, at some stage, I waved and shouted to the others in the distance, but none of them had seen anything. They’d just heard a muffled shriek across the breeze in the distance, which they’d ignored. And I’m pretty sure that when I told them what had happened they didn’t really believe me. But I know what happened. I was there.

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“THIS BIG BOY JUST HUNG THERE EYEING ME AS I READIED THE BLUNT END OF A FLY ROD – A DEFENSIVE TOOTHPICK THAT DID NOT BRING MUCH COMFORT.

Air to fakie, upside down chiselmouth.

CHISELLED

CHASING THE ELUSIVE LABEOBARBUS GRAND SLAM, LEONARD FLEMMING DISCOVERED HE HAD MISSED HIS MARK WHEN THE GOAL POSTS WERE MOVED. Photo. Rob Kyle

here are a few things that need to be achieved by a fly fisherman in South Africa before a date with the Grim Reaper (or the day you emigrate). Here’s hoping death comes first, because who wants to leave this beautiful country? One of those goals is to become a member of that “golden club,” anglers who have caught all nine yellowfishes in our country in nine days. Yes, that means travelling to at least four provinces in just over a week to tick off largemouth and smallmouth yellowfish, largescale and smallscale yellowfish, papermouth*, Natal scaly, Clanwilliam yellowfish, sawfin* and witvis*. Very few anglers have acquired that ‘9-yellows-in-9-days’ status and, obviously, it is also not something that one could just pull off on the first try … or you’d be extremely lucky if you did. As with all cyprinids, catching yellows is weather-dependent, and I’m sure all largie fanatics will know what I mean when I say these fish can have lock jaw for days on end in foul weather. So not only do you need to know what you are doing, but the planets need to align and gift you nine days of sunshine in a country that is hormonal when it comes to sneaky cold fronts. However, my dream, to achieve this VIP ranking, shared, I believe,with many other yellowfish anglers, was chiselled to pieces a few weeks ago by an aquatic scientist, Dr. Gordon O’Brien. I was intrigued by our chiselmouth species, because the Incomatie chiselmouth (formerly known as Varicorhinus nelspruitensi) had recently been placed with the true yellowfishes (genus Labeobarbus). Its new name is Labeobarbus nelspruitensi). That meant that a tenth yellowfish had been added to the nine already on the tick list. The problem is there’s more than one chiselmouth. I casually quizzed Gordon in an email about the remaining chiselmouths.

His response: “Hi...So all Varicorhinus are now Labeobarbus...Yellowfish, but appear to be a different species. Seems in KZN there are at least 4 species already... Need to do more work but they are hexaploid, so difficult to study. How you doing?” How am I doing? Ready to frikken shoot myself! After chatting to more aquatic scientists in our country, it basically dawned on me that the original ‘9-in-9-days’ could easily turn into a gruelling ‘18-in-18-days’. I imagine it would be like conquering six of the Seven Summits, finding yourself halfway up the seventh and then hearing over the radio that another 15 Himalayan peaks had been added to the list. So close, yet so far. I guess this development also strips the rank from a few that were sitting on Cloud Nine…unless, of course, we all stick to the original nine species? Maybe it will be like the old days of playing pool, where you asked your opponent at the beginning, “New rules or old rules?” But, if we stick to the original nine, wouldn’t we be lying to ourselves? Who wants second rate anyway? I bet on Murphy that, even if you did pull it off, that mythical ‘18-in-18-days’ (or whatever it’ll be), will turn into ‘20-in-20-days’ over the next two decades. Thanks geneticists. You bunch of clever monkeys have ruined our dream, forever. * Although papermouth, sawfin and witvis aren’t true yellowfishes ( scientifically speaking), they are larger than usual barbs, readily chow flies and are strong fighting fish, and have therefore been included in the South African ‘yellowfish’ angling tick list.

HOW AM I DOING? READY TO FRIKKEN SHOOT MYSELF! AFTER CHATTING TO MORE AQUATIC SCIENTISTS IN OUR COUNTRY, IT BASICALLY DAWNED ON ME THAT THE ORIGINAL ‘9-IN-9DAYS’ COULD EASILY TURN INTO A GRUELLING ‘18-IN-18-DAYS’. W W W. T H E M I S S I O N F LY M A G . C O M

HIGH FIVES

DAN FACTOR C O N S I S T E N T LY H O L D I N G P O L E P O S I T I O N A S S O U T H A F R I C A’ S T O P - R A N K E D C O M P E T I T I O N A N G L E R , D A N FA C T O R O F X - FA C T O R A N G L I N G ( W W W. X FA C T O R A N G L I N G . C O . Z A ) , I S A L S O A F LY F I S H I N G C O A C H A N D A G U I D E , TA K I N G C L I E N T S A L L O V E R T H E W O R L D . WE CAUGHT UP WITH HIM FOR A RAPID-FIRE HIGH 5S. Photos. Dan Factor Archive

5 best things about where you guide? 1. The afternoons on the Orange River when the shadows hit the mountains and the colours pop, are special. It’s the quiet time after fishing stops that gives you a chance to take in the surroundings. 2. The size and sheer volume of water on the Zambezi is staggering. It makes finding the needle in the haystack all that more rewarding. 3. The Bushman’s River after the first spring rains turn it into a sea of green. It’s hard to explain but it can burn your eyes. 4. Being able to experience healthy fisheries all around the world but specifically locally. 5. The wildlife and birdlife that surround the waterways of southern Africa. Sometimes I need to take a minute to really appreciate how lucky I am to be where I am. 5 fishing-connected items you don’t leave home without before making a mission? 1. Bum Paste. They don’t call it ‘the crack’ for nothing. 2. Scissor Clamps: forceps and nippers in one. 3. Wet wading tights. 4. 106mp camera (Samsung). Keep your DSLRs. 5. Crocs. Comfy and stylish! 5 things you are loving right now 1. Spending time with my wife and my two newly adopted dogs. 2. Learning how to run my new online shop and all the background stuff that goes with that. 3. Air fryer! Makes perfect schnitzel and sweet potato chips every time. I’ve even heard it makes perfect bacon (not that I would know). 4. Bone Black Dry UV resin from Solarez - makes buzzers and perdigons quick and easy. 5. My non-existent fuel bill.

5 indispensable flies for saltwater? 1. Game-Changer. 2. Gotcha. 3. Alflexo Crab. 4. NYAP. 5. Spawning Shrimp. 5 indispensable flies for freshwater? 1. Hot Spot Hare’s-Ear. 2. UV Buzzer. 3. Black Parachute. 4. CDC Bugger. 5. Shrek Fly (you guessed it, it’s green). 5 favourite fly fishing destinations across South Africa/ Africa? 1. Lower Orange River. 2. KZN Rivers (especially the Bushman’s and Mooi). 3. Eastern Cape still waters. 4. Lowveld Tigers (in places you’d never expect). 5. Sterkies. If you can’t sight fish big fish in the Orange, you might as well sight fish smaller fish in a dam. 5 favourite fly fishing destinations globally? 1. Golden Dorado in Bolivia. 2. The Seychelles. Any of the many atolls will do. 3. Exmouth. Tuna busting on bait balls, permit tailing on the flats and hundreds of sharks. 4. The Zambezi. My love for swinging flies to big tigers is hard to overlook. 5. Colorado Trout. Euro-nymphing paradise! 5 of the most difficult guiding/teaching experiences so far? 1. Strip striking. Every time! 2. Spotting fish. 3. Drag free drifts. If there was one thing to correct it would be easy.

“WE COMPETITION ANGLERS ARE NOTORIOUSLY CAGEY WITH OUR KNOWLEDGE, BUT THAT HAS TO CHANGE IF WE ARE TO GROW THE SPORT.” 30

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Dan Factor with a behemoth dorado.

4. Leading the fish (not casting at it). I even make this mistake. 5. BMT (big match temperament). Fly fishing is hard enough before you introduce adrenaline and nerves. 5 of the best things you have picked up from competitive fly fishing? 1. Team comes first. When everyone has bought into this, the results follow. 2. Leaning how to catch fish in all types of water. Dead water is scary, but finding fish in tough situations has been very rewarding. 3. Confidence is key. 4. Fish will feed in all conditions. Wind, rain or snow, it doesn’t matter. You always stand a chance. 5. Undoubtedly, the people you meet along the way. Some of my closest friends have come through the competitive circuit locally and internationally. 5 of the worst things you have picked up from competitive fly fishing? 1. Squirmies. When you see how fish react it’s hard to fish more accepted patterns. 2. Blobs - the stillwater squirmy. 3. Counting every fish I catch. Old habits die hard. 4. Not slowing down to appreciate individual fish. I’ve landed some really memorable fish during my time competing where I haven’t been able to stop and savour that moment. 5. Fishing flies at least 50cm apart. It’s just so much easier having your nymphs 40cm apart. 5 flies to pack (in the smuggler kit under your driver’s seat) to cover most species? 1. Fasna Chenille Worm (legal squirmies!). 2. Alflexo. 3. Black Bugger. 4. Olive & Gold Minnow. 5. Stu’s Knob. 5 people you would like to guide or fish with? 1. MC Coetzer - He’s coached me since I was 15 and all through my Protea (South Africa’s National team) years. However, after his shit-show of a performance at the last World Master’s Championship he might need a coach of his own. 2. Christiaan Pretorius - We’ve fished together since I started in competitive angling but since he become a global superstar he doesn’t answer my calls. 3. Jacques Kallis - Unlike Dale (Steyn) and Quinny (de Kock), he’s an all-rounder. Probably an all-round good oke too. 4. Jacob Zuma - If you can capture a state, I’d love to see what he can land with a rod in hand. 5. My brother - He’s not a serious angler but family will always come first and I don’t get to see enough of him now that he’s based in the UK.

5 fish on your species hit list? 1. Tarpon. I was meant to have ticked this off in Mexico two months ago (shot Covid!) 2. Bumpy. Who doesn’t want to catch a buffalo on fly? 3. Mahseer. Anything that looks that much like a largie has my undivided attention. 4. Triggers. I’ve caught them before but I could never get bored of them so they’ll probably be on this list forever. 5. Atlantic Permit. The thought of sight fishing a 30-50lb fish is enough to drive anyone crazy. 5 of the most underrated species in your book? 1. Smallmouth Yellowfish. They always feel like a 12lb largie. 2. Largemouth Yellowfish. They’re finally getting the attention locally that they deserve but internationally they deserve so much more.

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3. Small-stream wild browns. They never say no to a dry fly. 4. Nembwe. Pound for pound champion of the Zambezi. 5. Golden Trevally. A cross between a GT, a permit and Pamela Anderson. 5 destinations on your bucket list? 1. Cosmoledo. See you in 2021! 2. Honduras. No better place for me to tick off my Atlantic permit. 3. Central America for tarpon on a float tube. Looks insane! 4. Mahseer in Bhutan. Oh to be one of Keith Rose-Innes’s rod tubes. 5. Kamchatka. Trout nirvana? Got to see it to believe it. 5 of the biggest challenges you face as SA’s no.1 ranked fly angler? 1. Tennis elbow.

2. Everyone has a bad day’s fishing. 3. Some of the stigmas around competitive fly fishing. 4. Quashing rumours around PEDs (Performance Enhancing Drugs). 5. Encouraging other angler’s to share information. We competition anglers are notoriously cagey with our knowledge, but that has to change if we are to grow the sport. 5 things you would take up if you weren’t always fly fishing? 1. Action cricket superstar. My in-swinging yorkers are arguably more impressive than my double-haul. 2. Personal Trainer. 3. Game Ranger. Anything outdoors. 4. Rhino Poacher. See above. 5. Stay at home dad. Someone’s got to do it.

“LARGEMOUTH YELLOWFISH IN CRYSTAL CLEAR POCKET WATER. YOU CAN KEEP THE BORDERS CLOSED FOR NOW.”

“Nkosi sikelele trout captcha…” Dan Factor in full comp regalia representing South Africa.

5 essential ingredients for an incredible mission? 1. Coffee. Dirk Immelman makes a mean cup but Nescafe Gold will do too. 2. Hand sanitiser. 3. Bog roll. 4. Permit to travel for “essential” work. 5. Cataflam (anti-inflammatory). It does the trick when anyone’s elbow, back or ego are swollen. (I’ve only had to use it for the first two…) 5 things about fly fishing that you may never understand? 1. How you have more specimen anglers than fly fishers? 2. How the more prepared you are, the fewer fish you catch. 3. Beginners luck! 4. Why fish always eat when you’re reeling in your line? 5. Mudfish. How they can chase a streamer and sip a dry fly. 5 flies that to look at make no sense but that catch fish all the time? 1. Tequila blobs. Fish handle theirs better than I handle mine. 2. Alaskan Omelette. It’s meant to imitate the race to the egg…

3. Snake flies. I’ve never seen a fish eating a puff-adder? 4. Red Eye Damsels. Damsel’s don’t have red eyes. 5. Egg Sucking Leech. Who has actually seen a leech sucking on an egg? If you have, drop me a mail PLEASE! (dfflyfishing@gmail.com) 5 common mistakes that most clients make? 1. No gear and no idea (shop’s open!). 2. Holding fish in a way that makes them look small. 3. Arriving on a wet wading trip with nothing but takkies sometimes Salomons). 4. Booking a trip without putting in the hours or attending a clinic beforehand. Practice is priceless. 5. Thinking the fly is what catches the fish. Your last five casts were to…. Largemouth yellowfish in crystal clear pocket water. You can keep the borders closed for now. Follow Dan on Instagram (@danfactor11) and check out www.xfactorangling.co.za for gear, clinics and more.

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GERMANY & AUSTRIA

THE HILLS ARE ALIVE MARINA GIBSON SPENT 12 DAYS WITH THE FLY FISHING NATION CREW, TARGETING A RAFT OF SPECIES ACROSS THEIR HOME WATERS IN GERMANY AND AUSTRIA. FROM BIG BROWNS IN FILTHY URBAN RIVERS TO YELLOWFISH-LIKE EUROPEAN BARBEL AND PIKE, PLUS GRAYLING AND BROOK TROUT IN CLEAR MOUNTAIN STREAMS, SHE DISCOVERED THAT CENTRAL EUROPE HAS PLENTY TO OFFER.

Photos. Stephan Dombaj

Nils Gabsda, Stephan Dombaj and Marten Laciny with a barbel bounty.

s soon as the UK lifted the 14-day quarantine I booked a spontaneous trip to Germany to visit Fly Fishing Nation’s Head Quarters for a 12-day fishing bender. Anyone who follows them on social media will know of their highly enviable backwaters and what better time than now to go and explore. This was new turf and I was excited. Over the years, Stephan Dombaj, Paulo Hoffmann, Alex Keus et al have spent countless hours seeking out the most desirable wild fish in Europe. And they’ve all been amply rewarded with their gold, silver and bronze medals. I had no idea I would soon be catching PBs and hooking into new species. I was equipped with an array of rods ranging from 10ft 3wt to 9ft 9wt. My quiver had to tempt a diverse list of toothy predators: delicate ladies, urban monsters and whiskered beauties. I couldn’t wait to find out what was lurking beneath the surface in these Central European waters but the full plan was yet to be revealed... As we were not leaving Germany immediately, Stephan Dombaj organised some barbel and urban trout fishing close to the FFN HQ. In the UK barbel are a cherished species by many anglers, but it is rare to see fishermen

catching them on the fly. People tend to catch them on halibut-scented pellets or on rolling Spam or luncheon meat cubes on Avon-style or specialist barbel rods with a 1.5lb or 2lb test curve. I was eager to see if Stephan had been exaggerating when he said how productive the barbel fishing was and that I was guaranteed to hook into one. We arrived at the first spot and peered over the bridge. The water was low and clear and the eye could almost make out every lie, rock and stone. We could see the elongated shapes of a handful of decent sized barbel with some short nosed carp and chub among them, all unflustered and moving ever so slightly from left to right in the slow to medium current. We crept down a little path under a bridge and on our way we had to dodge the giant hogweed (Heracleum mantegazzianum), a toxic, towering, cow parsley-like plant that if you, or any animals, touch it, can be fatal if the sting is left untreated. While Stephan was kindly trying his best to dodge these plants and clear the area, some of the stems catapulted back towards him and brushed along his arms. It wasn’t until the next day when the area was exposed to the sunlight, causing it flared up and blister, that he realised he must have got some of the plant’s sap on his skin.

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“AS WE WERE NOT LEAVING GERMANY IMMEDIATELY, STEPHAN DOMBAJ ORGANISED SOME BARBEL AND URBAN TROUT FISHING CLOSE TO THE FFN HQ.”

Stephan Dombaj with a beast of a backyard brown.

This page: Nils Gabsda with a barbel (left), and Matthias Strothotte and Paulo Hoffmann (Top and bottom right) mix and match grayling and browns. Opposite page: Paulo Hoffmann and a beaut of a grayling.

I stood there eagerly, rod in hand, and carefully unhooked my duo of jig nymphs from the rod guide and pulled some line gently off the reel. I made a few casts, connected with, but lost, a barbel and shortly thereafter hooked into a chub, which gave me a good tussle compared to those that we catch on my local river with a double hander, whilst trying to catch Atlantic salmon. The second pool was stuffed to the brim with barbel. You could identify their slim shapes where the water surface calmed and even make out the odd lobes of their tails. It was especially exciting to see them in the yellowish, clear water and the visibility made it ever more exhilarating when you executed a perfect drift and could watch your team of nymphs approaching the fish. After many casts, a few lost fish (triggering the occasional expletive) and many refusals, finally the line pulled tight and I landed a gorgeous barbel. It fell for my homemade perdigon that I had tied the evening before. To have caught and witnessed such a specimen in the flesh was one of my proudest angling moments. We went on to catch copious amounts that day and ended with a

bankside brew and tipple that a woman brought out for us from her house beside the river. I didn’t think the week could get any better until we went trout fishing in a nearby urban river. This time the target was ‘dirty’ wild trout. The weather was warm and the water was low but that wasn’t going to stop us from trying and, because my time was limited, I needed to make the most of it. Fly Fishing Nation know their backwaters intimately so I was feeling confident. These artificially straightened stretches with their murky waters, tampon migrations and other unpleasant surprises, such as the omnipresent smell of sewage, reminded me of a Yorkshire river not far from where I live. It’s hard to believe that cities, towns and rural areas use our waterways to dump their rubbish and infect them with sewage and waste. However, despite this, the average size of fish was impressive and whatever they’ve been eating has had a positive effect on their growth. That day I caught a 9lb rainbow trout and on my next visit, with my last cast in the darkness, a 4lb brown trout with my last cast .

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During my stay we also made an impromptu stop by a lake that Stephan and Paulo used to fish in the early days of Fly Fishing Nation. The modest lake had narrow overgrown openings where you could just about present a bow and arrow cast into some of the hot spots. I was using a 9-foot 9-weight with a floating line and a stupendously large tube fly tied by FFN in one of their ‘Beers & Bobbins’ sessions. The fly flew through the air like a missile and landed by the side of a submerged log. I let it sink and two strips later a pike came rocketing out from beneath the murky water and grabbed it. My hook set wasn’t the best, (as Stephan kept reminding me that evening) but, thankfully, it stayed on and we were able to net it, take a photo and release her quickly back to her lair. It was now time to travel a little further afield. Austria, a land of mountains and glacial gin-clear rivers and lakes full of wild fish awaited us. It was hard not to fall head over heels in love with this enchanting place, with its valleys full of wildlife, its snow-capped mountains and unspoilt landscapes. We stayed in a charming chalet hotel in Mittersill, Hotel Braurup. There we enjoyed Austrian comforts such as home brewed beer, goulash and kaiserschmarrn (a rum-soaked shredded pancake) served by friendly staff, suited and booted in lederhosen and dirndl, the region’s traditional dress.

In summer the area becomes an epicentre for hikers and fishermen alike. Access to the pristine, meandering rivers and emerald green lakes can be arranged through the hotel and are unquestionably some of the most exquisite places to fish on the planet. It was very convenient to be able to pop into the hotel’s fishing shop and buy our licences, enabling us to fish any of their water during our stay. This included 130 miles of running water and four alpine-fed lakes, including one high mountain lake situated at over 2,000m above sea level. The drive to each of our fishing spots was magical, especially the regular sightings of the colossal waterfalls with their icy white water leaping over the rocky ledges. My number one quest was to seek out my first brook trout on the Krimmler Ache River. I also wanted to catch some high altitude brown trout and grayling. Keeping a low profile, I was able to tempt my first brookie and thereafter a few more. I noticed that they were more apprehensive than the other species and each one would keep me entertained by darting out from behind a boulder and snatching at the flies. As for the grayling, they were the prettiest I’ve ever seen. Don’t ask me how, but I am convinced that they are definitely, somehow, distant relatives of the banana. Just take a look at their shape and colour and you’ll agree.

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THE ALPINE ATMOSPHERE IS INCREDIBLY SOOTHING AND HEALING FOR ONE’S BODY, MIND AND SOUL.”

“MY NUMBER ONE QUEST WAS TO SEEK OUT MY FIRST BROOK TROUT ON THE KRIMMLER ACHE RIVER. I ALSO WANTED TO CATCH SOME HIGH ALTITUDE BROWN TROUT AND GRAYLING.”

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Wherever we fished, be it there on the Krimmler Ache, other rivers, or on the Finkausee and Hintersee lakes, cowbell chimes would follow us. The Alpine atmosphere is incredibly soothing and healing for one’s body, mind and soul. We all know that getting outside and immersing yourself in nature is both mentally and physically beneficial, especially if you are feeling stressed. Fishing in such places can be the perfect antidote. I was delighted to discover that Austria is a fisherman’s paradise and, being so close to the UK, it is easily accessible and relatively inexpensive. Above all, there is so much pristine water and such a variety of species to discover that it’s a place you’ll want to return to time and time again. I know I will.

CENTRAL EUROPE

SHOP THE MISSION

Marina fished the Recon II 3-weight with a Clearwater Large Arbor reel when nymphing and the Recon II 8’6” 4-weight with the Hydros II reel and a Pro Trout line Smooth for dry fly fishing. All products from orvis.com

Stephan and the FFN guys were testing the Cortland 10’6” 3-weight (cortlandline.com) and using the Loop Opti Dry fly reel (looptackle.com) and Rio Two-Tone Indicator Tippet (rioproducts.com).

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ORANGE RIVER ON FOOT

LIVE AT RED ROCK WHILE THE REST OF US WENT THROUGH NETFLIX RE-RUNS, FREEL ANCE GUIDE JAMES KIRSTEN ESCAPED TO RED ROCK RIVER CAMP ON THE ORANGE WHERE HE LOST HIMSELF IN THE GORGE. Photos. James Kirsten, Ruari Harrison, James Pereira, Daniel Duncan

ockdown!! The world gone mad. Everything is locked down; cities, suburbs; public transport and worse than that . . . Johnny Walker is behind bars in South Africa. As a fly fishing guide and wildlife enthusiast, this was worse than load shedding during happy hour on a Friday night. I just had to get out back to where I belong – the great outdoors.The Orange River has always been a special place for me. Having started my guiding career here a few years ago, my love for her waters and all they produce is endless. From paddling to nymphing for smallies, sight fishing for bream and straight sticking largies, this was a drug that I was now craving. After four weeks of strict lockdown my fly box was overflowing and I was cabin fever positive. In need of a vaccine, it was time to make a move. After a lengthy chat to my good friend Roche Schoeman, owner of Red Rock River Camp, my destination was confirmed. The idea was to explore the upper sections of the mighty Orange River Gorge. I had paddled and guided the lower section of the Gorge, but it was always my dream to head up river to find out what could be hidden in its upper reaches. I had heard stories from Andrew Kellet, owner of Gravity Adventures and renowned South African river master, of how treacherous the top section of the Gorge could be. It is a place that only a handful of mad kayakers and adventureobsessed hikers have seen. It begged the question, have these waters been caressed by a brazen muishond or an inconspicuous PTN? Has any fisherman dared to make the trek through these unforgiving cliffs and ravines? Could it even be done? With all these burning questions I packed my VW Caddy to the roof and began my journey from Durban to the Northern Cape right up near the Namibian border to perform what I called ‘‘essential plant research, Meneer” on the banks of the Orange River. Let’s go!

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“A HEFTY TEN POUNDER CAME TO THE NET AND TURNED OUR SOMBRE MOOD AROUND. THE FISHING WAS BACK ON.”

After a half way stop in the bustling metropolis of Wepener to pick up my fellow “botanist”, Dan Duncan, we began the endless journey through the Northern Cape. After hours of travelling on roads so long and straight that you could watch your dog run away for three days, we arrived tired and dusty but 120% stoked at Red Rock River Camp. Winter had etched her name on the landscape – dry, apocalyptic, yet undeniably beautiful. The Orange herself was looking like an over-priced postcard from the Pienk Padstal, boasting an aquatic world of wonder with her crystal clear, winter-washed waters. Notwithstanding the cold conditions – bloody freezing to be precise - the river was full of life. From Goliath herons and kingfishers, to leguaans and baboons, an incredible ecosystem was thriving off the life-blood of the Orange. After fishing around camp for the first few days it was evident that the fish weren’t too phased by the cold and didn’t care much for President Cyril Ramaphosa’s lockdown rules. Big smallies were smashing streamers and even a few smaller largies came out to play. With our appetites whetted, it was time to head to the Gorge and into the unknown. Carrying everything we needed for our first two-night mission, our packs were incredibly heavy – a comfy 20 kilos. In between the essentials – our fishing gear - we squeezed in a couple of cans of tinned food, oats, pasta and two rolls of boerie* into our bags. Along with two sleeping bags and a hiking mattress, we adorned the outside of our packs with pots, pans and a braai grill, like traveling gypsies. The first part of the hike along a dry river bed was relatively mellow but, at about five kilometres in, the landscape abruptly changed and we found ourselves boulder hopping and orienteering through a maze of rock gardens and pot holes. The ‘comfy’ 20 kilos on our backs began feeling like 40 kilos. Our shoulders were screaming and our throats were scratching for a drink. Right when we thought we could go no further, we heard the low, thundering, rumble of the Gorge. We were getting close. Fuelled by a second wind, we gave it one last push up the ridge and came across a sight that I will never forget. A picturesque, deep pool the size of a rugby field with fast, turbulent water pushing in and then flowing out into a steep, narrow, sharply cut gorge. From our vantage point with the sun lighting up the picture, we saw that the Schools of fat smallies were holding in the current, scores of mudfish could be seen moseying about the rocks but, most importantly, we were seeing largies! My visions of this top section paled into insignificance when I saw the real thing – better than a dream come true!I threw my pack down with overwhelming relief and declared this our camp site for the first night. We fished the pool for the remainder of the afternoon and were treated to smallies reacting to

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“A PICTURESQUE, DEEP POOL THE SIZE OF A RUGBY FIELD WITH FAST, TURBULENT WATER PUSHING IN AND THEN FLOWING OUT INTO A STEEP, NARROW, SHARPLY CUT GORGE.”

big baitfish patterns and largies emerging from the depths at the most unexpected moments. By nightfall we were all well on our way with some good fish under the belt. After a big fire, some wholesale pap and boerewors, and a distinct lack of dop,** we crawled into our double sleeping bags, excited about exploring deeper the next day. Apart from a 3am wakeup call from Dan crying wolf – or leopard in this case - we survived the cold and actually got a fairly decent sleep. After a quick cup of coffee and some oats, we packed up and continued our exploratory mission through the Gorge. Unbelievably, as we progressed down, the pools and various sections just became better and better, showing off some massive, dark and very fishy pools. The big pools all seemed to squeeze into narrow tail-outs and then into fast rapids. Each pool was unique in character, meaning we spent a lot of time scouting for fish. With the viz so good and six eyes to leverage, there was no need to blind fish a spot. The walls of the Gorge are high, so accessing the water became a mission in itself and sometimes it was just not possible. After a morning of scouting and exploring, we stopped and had a quick tuna pasta lunch above yet another majestic pool. It was as deep and dark as ever, with just enough flow to keep things interesting. We gazed upon carp the size of turtles and golden slabs of smallmouth yellowfish feeding just beneath the surface. Then I saw her, my African queen. Sitting in the tail out, clear as the stars at night, she held graciously in front of a big sunken boulder in the most optimal hunting position. It was my time to shine! A steep descent, followed by a sketchy jump across the rapid and I found myself in a great position to have a shot at this beauty. With Dan on top of the Gorge as my eyes, I began the motion of sending out my fly. Fishing a fast sinking line and a big articulated fly, I sent a cast a good couple of metres left and well above her. I dumped as much line as possible to get down and reach her, threw a series of big mends and began the swing. Dan kept up a running commentary not unlike Hugh Bladen at a rugby game. It all came together perfectly even without a Castle, as the natural swing of the fly came right across her path, directly in front of her gorgeous face. I was shitting myself, waiting for the reel to explode and all hell to break loose... but nothing. She just dismissed my fly like a passing pickup line at a pub. “Cast again,” was the obvious call but, yet again….nothing. Fly change after fly change and still no reaction whatsoever. After numerous drifts past her it was evident she wasn’t interested.We didn’t see the queen again for the remainder of the exploration. We fished hard and got into some good smallies and two fairly decent largies. But I had some unfinished business that became like a mozzie bite that I just couldn’t scratch. With our food

supply running low we had to head back to Red Rock. The plan was to restock, rethink, and come back firing in a few days’ time for another possible shot at the lovely lady in the tail-out of the newly named ‘Big Fish Pool’ – original AF, we know.A week later I found myself in the same body-aching position. I had the 20 kilo pack back on and was marching hard into the now more familiar Gorge. Unfortunately Dan had to head back to the big-smoke that is Wepener, but I was going nowhere until I caught my queen, or at least got another shot at her. This time round I was joined by my good fishing mates Ruari and Jamo who both dropped everything and shot up north after hearing about the first trek. This was the trip. I was feeling positive. With a stack of freshly tied flies, tweaking certain patterns that were favoured on the last trip, I was ready for a tango with a possible twenty. I decided to change my approach. I began fishing Big Fish Pool at around 4:30pm on the first afternoon from the opposite side of the tail out. Just as the sun dipped behind

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the Gorge walls, I started firing big triple-articulated sex dungeons into the deep. With the advantage of sight fishing gone, I was now casting blind into the dark tailout but certain of what I knew was lurking below. Several casts later I got a bump. A hard, solid strip strike and I was inside. But to my surprise, a couple of seconds later, the fight was over and I found myself with a small, ratty largie in my net. Puzzled and a bit disappointed, I sent another cast out, exact same drift. . .a slow, deep swing and before I even knew it my line was tight, and I was on again. This time things were a bit different. After three heavy headshakes I knew I was into something bigger. Trying not to apply too much pressure, (due to water clarity I was fishing a 12lb leader ) the fish started coming to the surface. With a huge breach and one seriously mischievous look, she turned, opened up the throttle and raced down the rapid. With all my might I tried to stop her, but she was just too powerful. With no room to move, I couldn’t run after her, nor change the angle. I didn’t have a chance in

hell of landing the fish. Head in hands, screams of anguish echoing through the gorge, and a full line with 40m of backing tangled up in the turbulent tail out – the girl had snapped me off and left me out to dry. The next two days were slow with only a few smallies to talk of. It was as if my tragic love story had spread around town. With our tails between our legs, we decided to call it quits and begin the long strenuous hike back to camp. We got out of the Gorge and to our rendezvous point with Roache with about an hour to spare. As we waited, the weather started to change drastically. The wind picked up and clouds filled the sky; a front was about to hit. I convinced Jamo and Ruari that we had to head back for one last session before Roache arrived. Pre-frontal system fishing is always too good an opportunity to pass up. We left our packs on the side of the road under a scrawny shepherd tree and began bull-dozing through thick reeds hoping to find a decent pool to wet one last fly.

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We stumbled across a small pool with a tail-out that held two deep channels with a rocky ridge separating them. I started with a long cast across the ridge and into the furthest channel, landing at the foot of a fallen tree, one strip and…BOOM! A hunk of gold shot out from under the tree and inhaled my black over tan baitfish pattern. A hefty ten pounder came to the net and turned our sombre mood around. The fishing was back on. With our tails now showing signs of a slight wag, I managed to net another smaller largie. We decided to have our last few casts before heading back to a probably stressed out Roache. I sent my final cast across both channels and began a longer swing. Before Ruari could finish saying something philosophical like “they always come in threes”, my Shilton CR4 exploded into life and began revving with excitement. After 15 minutes of skiet, skop en donner,*** the fish finally gave in and succumbed to my efforts… 18lbs of pure, shimmering gold. What a sight, what a moment, what a time to be alive. After watching her swim away to fight another day, we headed back to a relieved Roache with the disappointment of the previous few days already a hazy memory. After all this madness and a streak of unreal luck, I still hadn’t forgotten about my Gorge-eous girl that had broken my heart twice. Her cold-hearted reactions to my incessant courting left me wanting her even more.

“AFTER HER MASSIVE SURGE EARLY ON, SHE SEEMED TO HAVE EMPTIED HER TANK. I WAS THE CAPTAIN NOW! SHE CAME TO THE NET GRACEFULLY, HUMBLE IN DEFEAT LIKE A TRUE WARRIOR.” I spent the next few days recovering and prepping for a solo mission. Jamo and Ruari had already headed back home to lockdown and facemasks. My plan was to spend one night in the gorge and have one last early morning shot at the big girl at first light. I rigged up a straight 20lb fluoro leader from fly line to fly and had tied all my flies on big 2/0 stingers. If I did manage to hook her she wasn’t escaping me this time. After a sleepless night tussling with a small mouse that had burrowed beneath my clothes, I was up at sparrows’ and began the descent down to the tail out of Big Fish Pool. With a camera and my net on standby, I found myself in the now very familiar position for one last crack. It was a gloomy morning, the water looked ominous and the air was crisp and cold. Something said to me I was about to strike gold. Five flicks in and I felt one helluva bump on my fly. I set hard and kept applying pressure, I immediately knew it was her. She gave me the same big head shakes but I pulled her hard, straight sticking the rod and giving her nothing. After about a minute of a literal tug-of-war she laboured from the tail-out and into the deep middle section of the pool. A small sigh of relief crept to my lips as I felt I had won the first little battle, but this was quickly replaced by the melodic chant of: “don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up”.

After her massive surge early on, she seemed to have emptied her tank. I was the captain now! She came to the net gracefully, humble in defeat like a true warrior. I raised her from the water and there we lay, in a big pot hole, side by side both soaking wet and completely out of juice. Two months of planning and three back-breaking treks had culminated in euphoria. I set up a quick self-timer with my camera as she waited patiently in the pot hole that had some current pushing through it. We posed like Kim and Kanye and then I sent her on her way, shooting off strong into the depths as if none of this had even happened. I put away my rod and headed home. There was no need for another cast. My soul was utterly and completely content. The hike out was hard and I got to the pickup point to enjoy an ice cold Coke at the corner cafe. I sat on the stoep sipping my brew and reminiscing about the tangle with my lady. I looked down the road and, like a mirage out of a James Bond movie, two beautiful young women strolled down the street and seemed to beckon me closer. I smiled and nonchalantly waved them off, they could never come close to the queen. * South Africa’s national sausage. It’s a thing. ** Booze. *** Literally meaning, ‘Kick, shoot and beat.’ An action sequence essentially.

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ORANGE RIVER ON FOOT

SHOP THE MISSION Xplorer T-50 Twt. xplorerflyfishing.co.za

Fly Zinc, Largemouth yellowfish flies. flyzinc.com

Salomon Speedcross 4. salomonsports.co.za

Airflo Forty Plus fly line. airflofishing.com

Costa sunglasses costadelmar.com

Shilton CR4, new coloured reels. (shiltonreels.com)

AUSTRALIA

ON THE TRAIL OF THE CASSOWARY WHEN GERALD PENKLER AND HIS WIFE SUZANNE TOOK A T R I P A R O U N D A U S T R A L I A , T H E Y H A D G O A L S . S P EC I F I C S P EC I E S G O A L S . F R O M T H E F I S H T O T H E FA U N A A N D F L O R A , T H E Y G O T W H AT T H E Y W E R E L O O K I N G F O R AND THEN SOME. Photos. Gerald Penkler, Suzanne Penkler

A big pale shadow moved out from under a rock toward the dry. This was it! Until a dark shape blasted in front, snatching the morsel away. Fish on, briefly. Later I would learn that this was a sooty grunter. A great hike and a swim in a natural infinity pool, but not much to show on the fishing front.

his is not a story about trophies, but stories about a journey to find a jungle perch, a barramundi, a coral trout and a Blue Mountain trout. Why this eclectic mix? Why not GTs, tuskies, queenies and Murray cod? I have no idea, but would happily catch these too. My wife, Suzanne, and I started our Australian journey in the tropical rainforest, followed the Great Barrier Reef and ended in the lofty Blue Mountains. Half asleep and bleary eyed I answered my phone. “What time will you be checking in today?” We had somehow miscalculated and were arriving a day later. A slight panic as we had booked a scuba class for 08.30am. So, after 30 hours of travel, we went straight from Cairns airport to scuba school. Even worse was that we woke up the next day with colds and ended any chance of diving. ProDive suggested we join a week later, which left us free to explore the forests and rivers for jungle perch. Whump! A huge unmarked speed bump indicated the end of road and the start of the gravel. Scars on the bump showed that we were not the first eager visitors. Clambering down through the bush to a deeply shaded pool we heard a splash. Rings rippled across the pool. It was only a couple of metres wide and knee deep. Peering through the undergrowth, I assumed that the moving shadows were jungle perch. I flicked out a small elk hair caddis. It may as well have been a rock as fish scattered and disappeared. This could have been a pristine trout stream with the clear water glides, runs and pools. A beautiful perch, tattooed from head to tail, launched at my fly. All 5 cm of it. We kept moving upstream and the terrain changed from a forest stream to big boulders, deep pools and fast cascades.

We headed inland to camp alongside a new river. A cassowary, vanished into the forest before we could have a proper glimpse. With the light dropping fast I ran down to the river to scout. This was an aquarium. Eels, schools of sooty grunter, fish I did not recognise and a few good size jungle perch were all actively feeding. Content with barbequed steak, and listening to the forest night sounds I drifted off dreaming about jungle pools. At first light we hiked upstream in search of less pressured waters. Kilometre after kilometre we worked our way upstream, casting at likely looking lies with dries, nymphs and streamers. Nothing. In the heat of the day we were hunted. Hounded. The swarms of horse flies had us squeaking and retreating into the water. Dancing or wading were the only options. I regretted wearing shorts. Dashing around a deep pool I jolted to a halt. There, dozing in its sandpit was a boar. An enormous, dog-like, hairy beast. We slowly, quietly, reversed back into the river. As the shadows lengthened fish magically emerged and darkened the pools. A few sooty grunter, also known as black bream, were active near a submerged tree. The indicator dipped and Suzanne lifted into a lively little sooty. They are surprisingly powerful and put the 4wt through its paces. Two decent jungle perch investigated the commotion, saw us and dashed back into the depths. The search for a decent jungle perch continued. We caught a number of sooty grunter but I would love to have targeted some big specimens. Next stop was Daintree, cockatoos and jungle streams. I never knew that Australia was home to the oldest tropical rainforest in the world. Every plant and insect looks alien and from a different planet. There was no such thing as a normal looking bug. No, they all looked like flowers, leaves, twigs and debris in a variety of colours. The forests here are full of small streams and cassowary trails. Early one morning we watched a cassowary chick foraging, while its mom gave us the occasional glare.

“EVERY POOL SURRENDERED A LITTLE JUNGLE PERCH, MOST ONLY A FEW INCHES IN LENGTH. WE SPOTTED SOME LARGER FISH UP TO 12 INCHES, BUT WE ONLY MANAGED TO CONNECT WITH FISH HALF THIS SIZE.” 72

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Suzanne with a small jungle perch

Sooty grunter (above) and Barramundi (right hand page) for the win!

In this dry season most of the streams were trickles, but the pools were full of hungry, competitive jungle perch. A black beetle fly pattered down on the surface and was instantly taken. Once again by a fish with stunning tattoos. Every pool surrendered a little jungle perch, most only a few inches in length. We spotted some larger fish up to 12 inches, but we only managed to connect with fish half this size. Crocodiles scare me. They also like the same places barramundi do. We decided to avoid the risk of DIY through the mangroves and booked a day with Will Pritchard, of FishHunterFNQ, to target barramundi in the mighty Daintree River by boat. Someone knocked on our tent. Odd, but someone had tracked me down saying that my fishing guide was on the phone at reception. Extreme wind meant that the fishing was off. I asked about alternatives. Up at 4am and a four hour drive later, we arrived at a small protected river mouth. The tide was already pushing and we had missed two hours of prime time, but were in with a chance. The side imaging on the fish finder showed barramundi hugging structure along the edges. Tap, Tap, Boom! The Pritchard double bunny shrimp was engulfed and a small

barramundi started bouncing and walking on the water. Another soon followed, again furiously head shaking. Soon after that, a huge metre long class barramundi floated up behind Suzanneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s lure. It slowly and carefully inspected it before slinking back into the depths. We were working the area, and then zap, Suzanne was tussling with an 80 cm bucking bronco. The tide slowed and all activity stopped. The fish were there, visible in the side imaging, but they had completely shut up shop. We worked various areas for the rest of the day, but the incoming tide had brought in the muddy water from the surf outside. A great day out, and one more target ticked off the list. By then, Suzanne had also caught a larger barramundi, sooty grunter and jungle perch, all bigger than mine. The Great Barrier Reef deserves the word Great. Not for its size, but for diversity and amount of life. Light, movement, noise and colour abound wherever you aim your goggles. No fishing is allowed, but being immersed in this huge aquarium with colour and life everywhere is something I will never forget. Arriving back at port after a three day, live-aboard scuba trip, we hopped into the car and drove south to the Whitsundays.

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Brassy trevally and honey grouper from the shore.

The white shores never seemed to get closer. A choppy ferry ride took us to one of the islands. Sinking into the ultra-fine sand, I wondered if we would ever get it out of our sleeping bags and tents. I was hoping to find a few coral trout and, if lucky, a GT. As we worked our way along the rocky coastline of the island, we came across an enormous sand flat that channelled out through a single deep narrow coral channel. A predator magnet. On the sand flat, whiting were schooling and, initially, I thought I was seeing bonefish. They readily ate little tan clousers. As did the camouflage masters. It was incredible to watch flathead appear out of nowhere to intercept a fly. To the side of the sand flat was a small round rocky bay. This was full of black tip reef sharks, fins and backs out of the water. I am not sure what they were doing, but they were not interested in anything I cast at them. One also almost had me walking on water. Turning around and seeing a shark as long as you, at your calf, is a big adrenalin rush. The tide retreated giving access to the deep coral channel that was no more than five metres wide. A chartreuse

clouser plopped down the middle. The line went tight on the first strip. The 10wt pulled flatter and flatter until it was arrow straight. Slow, smooth, powerful and unrushed. Did it know it was hooked? I could not hold it as the line gritted and grated down its cavernous lair. In the heat of the moment I jumped in trying to free the line and pull it out of the reef. In hindsight, it was completely stupid, but I wanted that fish. It had other ideas and, no doubt, the story will continue to grow in size and legend. The next cast I had another thump. Splashing and thrashing came a beautifully decorated coral trout. I was delighted. The next cast the same result, but this time a honeycomb grouper showed off its spots. Cast after cast I picked up various reef species. With the light starting to lower and a long walk back, I pulled myself back from the edge. Something black and shiny caught my eye. I jumped sideways. It was angry. I am used to snakes, but not this belligerent attitude as it waved and mock charged from its rocky perch. Telling it to chill, we gave it an extra wide berth. I secretly hoped it would try to swim across grouper chasm. Two nights on the island was simply not enough time and we vowed to stay at least a week if we had the chance.

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THE VAST AREAS OF DECLARED WILDERNESS AND ACCESS TO TROUT-FILLED MOUNTAIN STREAMS ARE WHAT BROUGHT US HERE.”

A Blue Mountain brown trout completes the slam.

We stopped for a few days at a couple of huge freshwater lakes on the route to Brisbane. These are stocked with species such as barramundi, Australian bass, silver perch, saratoga, snub nosed gar and more. Unfortunately, the only fish that were interested in my flies were fork tailed catfish. They do give a pretty good pull. We caught a flight from Brisbane to Sydney and after a few tourist days we were ready to search for trout. Sydney faded behind us as we headed into the hazy Blue Mountains. You get to enjoy appreciate the view as the speed limits are ridiculously slow. The vast areas of declared wilderness and poor access to trout-filled mountain streams are what brought us here. Camping in October has its risks and heavy rain had water furrowing around our tent. Up early, we stopped to catch our breath at the top of big ridge. Looking down the valley, cloud and mist lifted in patches like steam. Kangaroos were prancing about on the lush green terrain. The roar of the river in the valley below drifted upwards. The river looked very fishable, despite the high flow and heavy stain. In the first run a little rainbow trout took the dropper. It had almost no spots and is the palest rainbow I have every caught. We worked our way upstream picking up the odd small trout here and there. The fast cascade gave way to a smooth deep glide and a long pool. There had to be a trout in there. One drift, two. Nothing. Then a minute twitch of the yarn indicator. Was that something? I changed fly and this time the indicator disappeared. A big broad crimson red flank charged downstream past my legs. The indicator flew into the

air, nymph in tow. Disappointed I checked the rig and flicked it further up the glide. This time a fish rocketed upstream, and then into the air. Once, twice, thrice. A lovely Blue Mountain brown. This is why we had hiked over a mountain. The next run was Suzanne’s. Here too, the indicator dipped and this time a 16-inch crimson tinged cock fish raced around the pool. Sadly, we only got a blurry photo as it flopped out of hand for an ultraquick release. The next morning, we peered from behind a big boulder. A big old brown trout was patrolling. She would cruise up the left-hand bank, disappear into the depths and then appear in the tail of the pool a few minutes later. She dived down and Suzanne moved into position to intercept it at the back of the pool with a little nymph. Alas, this elder stateswoman was smart and we never saw her again. As the sun rose, the trout became active and we were lucky enough to catch several other good browns and rainbows. Drinking freshly brewed tea next to the sound of the river and in the middle of nowhere, we once again regretted only having two days there. It was time to pack up and head back out. “Krrrrr, Krrrrr”, Suzanne jumped backwards in alarm at this loud rattle. I jumped, expecting a snake. On reflection, we jumped a lot in Australia. Transfixed we watched as a spiky little pom-pom begin to unfurl, its snout sniffing the air. The echidna, satisfied it was safe, began to snuffle about. We watched for ages as this fascinating creature tucked into ants. The lengthening shadows finally forced us onwards. Back over the mountain, to Sydney and the awaiting A380. Mission accomplished.

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PROTECTING YOUR FLY F

FISHING FOR THE FUTURE From headwaters to court rooms, fighting the pollution of our rivers or challenging the disproportionate legislation of the authorities, FOSAF works for you. For just R300* for a year’s membership you can do your bit and support FOSAF.

Please join at www.fosaf.org.za Ask your club to enter the scheme whereby your annual subscription Is reduced from R300 to R150”

L AT ES T R E L E A S ES

SALAD BAR ST CROIX – IMPERIAL SALT

Mon dieu mes amis, c’est le St Croix Imperial Salt! All-new for 2020, the Imperial Salt rods from St Croix combine SCIII carbon with IPC® mandrel technology to give you lightweight, fast action sticks that can handle tough saltwater conditions. With features that include slim-profile ferrules, Sea Guide® PVD coated stripper and snake guides, an uplocking, machinedaluminium reel seat and a premium-grade cork handle – St Croix backs this USA-made rod with a 15-year transferable warranty. Available at Xplorer Fly Fishing in South Africa. stcroixrods.com, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

WATERWORKS-LAMSON – SPEEDSTER S

HELLO MOOI DING! It stand to reason that the guys who started Waterworks (which later acquired Lamson and became Waterworks-Lamson), are also bike nerds, because the design and thought that goes into their reels screams all that. Beautiful, functional tools designed to get the job done, fast, the Speedster S is a large arbor, anodized, aluminium, super-high retrieve rate reel featuring a narrower spool that prevents line barrelling and an inboard handle and added outer circumference to improve retrieve rate. In short, this USA-made beauty is designed to get the fish in fast and get you on to the next one. waterworks-lamson.com, frontierflyfishing.co.za

“BEAUTIFUL, FUNCTIONAL TOOLS DESIGNED TO GET THE JOB DONE, FAST”

SEMPERFLI - SYNTHETIC CASHMERE MONKEY

This could be a great band name, but alas it’s just a great (monkey-free) material for streamers, salmon and predator flies. With an action very similar to cashmere, Semperfli’s Cashmere Monkey does not absorb water so your flies will cast well and will “ape” the movement of baitfish in the water. Available in a large array of colours. semperfli.net, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

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ORVIS - MEN’S PRO HYBRID LONG SLEEVED SHIRT

Gone are the days of collared shirts looking like pregnancy dresses. Newer athletic styles like Orvis’s Men’s PRO Hybrid Long Sleeve fishing shirt, work a whole bunch of tech into their design from bodymapped hybrid fabrication for protection from sun and heat to the Avra® fabric that spreads moisture quickly over a large area to provide rapid evaporation and enhanced cooling. This shirt also claims UPF 50 for maximum sun protection, which is especially appealing for the gingers among us. Throw in “Polygiene® odor control for extended wear” (aka living in the same shirt for a week), two zippered chest pockets, an integrated cord for tool docking and a built-in sunglasses and cell phone cleaner and you have a shirt that protects you from the sun and makes your job – the fishing – a little easier. orvis.com, flyfishing.co.za

COSTA - BOWLINE SILICONE RETAINERS

If you’re flashing cash on some high-end polarized shades, you better ensure you keep them in place. Costa’s Bowline Silicone Retainers are comfortable, durable and come in a range of colours. costadelmar.com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

PATAGONIA – BAGGIES

Made from quick-drying 100% recycled nylon with a DWR (Durable Water Resistant) finish, Patagonia’s range of Fair Trade Certified ™ sewn baggies are summer ready and fishing fit. Go for the 5-inch if you like to show a bit of thigh or 7-inch if you’re shy. patagonia.com

L AT ES T R E L E A S ES

SALAD BAR REDINGTON - RUN FLY REELS

Lightweight on both your pocket and in hand, Redington’s Run reels boast a carbon fiber drag system and feature a durable, non-machinable die-cast aluminum construction with a unique ported arbor on the inner barrel of the spool for increased durability and decreased weight. That means quick retrieval and maximum pressure on the fish (“c’mon buddy, try a Sex Dungeon, what could go wrong?”). From light salt like estuary grunter and leeries, to yellows on the Vaal/Orange systems or troot when oot and aboot, this is a great option that won’t break the bank. Available in 4/5, 5/6 and 7/8 weights. redington.com, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

G. LOOMIS – ASQUITH

You’d be forgiven for bastardizing a classic anthem and singing, “Swing Light, Sweet Chariot,” while bombing out casts with the Asquith, but the performance of this lightweight, Steve Rajeff-designed beast is something to behold. With superb power transfer from tip to hand, quick recovery, and increased sensitivity, thanks to its fast action, power reserves and exceptionally light swing weight, it excels in fishing situations where developing high line speed and making precise casts means success (e.g. “GT at 12 o’ clock, 30m out! Cast poephol!”). gloomis.com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

RENZETTI – APPRENTISE

Insert wise Buddhist monk voice-over - “Before you can became the master, you must be the student.” If you are getting started out in fly tying, or if you are looking for a vice from a quality, trusted name that won’t break the bank but will do everything you need it to do, then the Apprentise Rotary Vise from Renzetti deserves your attention. From a rotary head with an aluminium tension knob (coincidentally what our designer calls his John Thomas), black oxide jaw housing and jaws and a silver powder coated c-clamp with a 8” hinged stem – this vice has all the functionality, simplicity and quality that a beginner as well as an experienced tyer needs for years of satisfaction. renzetti.com, frontierflyfishing.co.za

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

HATCH - NOMAD 2 PLIERS

Outside of the obviously carnal stuff - it’s weird the things that get us off as humans. Five green traffic lights in a row, bubble wrap to pop, a perfect break in pool and, that satisfying chonky click when a premium pair of pliers like the redesigned Hatch Nomad 2 chomps through 180lb fluorocarbon or a tigerfish wire trace. It’s the tungsten carbide cutters on these pliers with their new side cutting position that makes it easier than ever to cut through all fishing line material. Gripping grooves added to the jaw tips easily grasp knot tag ends for making things nice and tight, like a tiger. The I-Beam arms are crafted from 6061-T6 aluminium and protected with Type II anodize. A new misted finish gives these beauties extra texture and should mean you are less likely to let them slip from your hands. hatchoutdoors.com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

RIVERMAN - TRAVEL BAG

If like us, you are desperate to get a change of scenery, then, like us, you may have a go-bag ready for a weekend away (dirty, fishing, or otherwise). This cracking XXL leather bag from the Riverman team in Dullstroom could just be your next go to. Made from hardy leather and canvas, it will acquire its own patina with use, as you rack up the miles and hopefully the stories to go with it. flyfishing.co.za

‘A GO-BAG READY FOR A WEEKEND AWAY (DIRTY, FISHING, OR OTHERWISE).

SEMPERFLI - 24/0 20D NANO SILK PRO

With a breaking strain (for the 20D) of 750gm or 26oz, this is possibly the world’s strongest fly tying silk for its diameter. Mighty Mouse Johnson in thread form, it’s ideal for flies from size 18 and smaller. Split it down further to use in dubbing loops; it will lay flat and yet still retain incredible strength for fly tying micro patterns. semperfli.net, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

L AT ES T R E L E A S ES

SALAD BAR REDINGTON – TRACE RODS The successor to Redington’s Hydrogen, the Trace range is billed as the ultimate in do-everything rods; a Swiss Army knife designed to handle any kind of trout situation. They have a medium-fast action, single-foot snake guides to increase both rod tracking and line sensitivity, a classic

Half-Wells cork handle, matte mahogany blank finish with a dark wood reel seat and a durable Cordura rod tube with built-in rod dividers. It comes with a lifetime warranty. If it’s anything like our old Redington Classic Trouts, you are unlikely to want to give it up. redington.com, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

MCLEAN – SHORT & LONG HANDLE WEIGH NETS

According to a thousand Cosmopolitan articles (we just happened to be reading them at the dentist’s, we swear), it’s not the size of the boat, but the motion of the ocean that matters. But, we all know that even if size does not matter, we THINK it matters. That’s why people want to know, how long and how big (to be clear, we are talking about fish). The gurus at New Zealand net company McLean have some brilliant weigh nets that help you not only take better care of your precious, but with a built-in weigh scale measuring up to 12lbs/65.5kg you can quantify it too. Available in soft woven knotless nylon and rubber mesh options. mcleanangling.co.nz, frontierflyfishing.co.za

“THAT’S WHY PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW, HOW LONG AND HOW BIG (TO BE CLEAR, WE ARE TALKING ABOUT FISH).”

MAVUNGANA FLYFISHING - TIGERFISH FLY PACK

Apparently the average working day has been 13% longer in 2020 due to all the Zoom meetings many of us have to endure in our jobs. What that means is if you get a chance to do some tigerfishing, even if you like to tie your own flies, you may not have had the time. Running trips to both Lake Jozini in South Africa and to the Zambezi/Chobe rivers, the Mavungana Flyfishing team has plenty of experience with tiger flies and have put together this comprehensive pack. From tiger clousers to whistlers, brush flies and even some poppers for when the stars align and they start smashing on the surface, they have you covered. Every fly comes with pre-tied piano wire and the pack includes a Mavungana Flyfishing Boat Box. flyfishing.co.za

“TIGER CLOUSERS TO WHISTLERS, BRUSH FLIES AND EVEN SOME POPPERS FOR WHEN THE STARS ALIGN”

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

Distributed by Xplorer fly fishing www.xplorerflyfishing.co.za contact 031-5647368

Stockists: Mavungana - JHB & Dullstroom, Fishing Pro Shop - PTA, Safari and Outdoor - PTA, Xplorer Fly shop - DBN, Kingfisher - PMB, Stream-X - Cape Town

M U S T H AV ES

PAY DAY WA N T T O B U G O U T O V E R T H E M I N U TA E O F A M AY F LY ’ S M I C R O - P E N I S ? O F C O U R S E Y O U D O . N O W, A S L E O N A R D F L E M M I N G R E P O R T S , Y O U C A N , T H A N K S T O T H E W O R K O F F R E S H WAT E R E C O L O G I S T CHRISTIAN FRY.

THE POSTER - FRESHWATER MACROINVERTEBRATES

I may be missing something, but I’ve never come across a good, photographic guide to South Africa’s aquatic insects (never mind crabs, shrimp and other interesting critters), not even a quality, ‘quick reference’ guide. I’m sure many fly anglers have wanted to ID and imitate some ‘bugs’ they’ve found in a dam or stream, but that field guide was lacking. “Have you ever seen one of these, Len” came the images and text on WhatsApp. “It’s a Hydropsalpingidae”, continued Christian Fry, a freshwater ecologist. I had no idea what Hydropshalala was but the insect looked aquatic and it looked a lot like the tusk caddis I’ve seen in a Cape stream. Christian confirmed that it was “Golden tusk caddis. It’s very rare and it occurs only in the peninsula area and surrounding mountains of the Western Cape”. “Damn dude, I might be able to help you with this one”, I replied excitedly. Not only was I sure I had seen brown trout feed on these things before and knew where to find them but, it was also a great excuse to offer my wife to get me out of the house with a rod in hand. I hiked the six kilometre footpath carrying small plastic jars in my hands.

As I clambered over rocks to reach the pool I had in mind, I spotted numerous cased caddis larvae doing the same. I carefully picked a few off the rocks, again not really knowing what I was looking at (we need that frikken field guide!) and placed them in the see-through containers. These I held up against the sunlight to see if they were indeed encased in the smooth, golden-brown silk tusks made only by the golden tusk caddis larva. It took me a few hours before I had what I wanted but, in that time spent searching for bugs, I came across so many other insects: large damsel fly larvae with big paddle tails, a stubby, dark brown dragon nymph, tiny caddis larvae with perfectly stacked pebble casings etc. which I couldn’t ID either. Hallelujah then for the quick ID photo poster that Christian has subsequently put together (the reason he needed those golden tusks). His macro photos are not only fascinating and beautiful, but the poster also includes many high resolution examples of invertebrate species grouped in their respective genera. It’s just perfect for hanging on the wall above your fly-tying desk. The poster is A1, printed on 250 gsm matt paper. It is available at select fishing outlets or direct from freshwaterinvertebrates.co.za.

WATCH – MICROCOSMOS X RADIOHEAD’S ALL I NEED Created in 2007, this incredible mashup by J Tyler Helms of the iconic 1996 French film Microcosmos and Radiohead’s song All I Need (of the 2007 album In Rainbows) is not new. But there’s a reason it has over 8 million views. In its own weird way, combining the warblings of Thom Yorke and the lives of insects, it is perfect. Pair it with a good fly tying session and this bug poster. vimeo.com/4085919

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

THE SHIRT – CALIFORNIA COWBOY

NEED. Ok, maybe not “need,” but we definitely want this California Cowboy (shop.californiacowboy.com) Highwater Shirt designed in collaboration with Huckberry. With a desert-inspired print, breathable terry cloth lining, a dry pocket with hydrophobic zipper, a sunglasses loop, a bottle pocket for holstering your beer when the hatch starts and a collapsible koozie for keeping said beer cold – it’s like this shirt was designed with fly fishing while drinking in mind. Available exclusively from huckberry.com.

THE PRINTS - FUNKY FISH

We love these vintage prints from the deep vault of Vintage Prints South Africa. If you’re a traditionalist, there are some great, classic prints of flies and salmonid squad members but, our favourites are the deep-sea critters, that look like members of the ANC NEC feigning surprise at new allegations of corruption and tender fraud. “Billions, you say? Shocking!” Plus… the deepwater ‘Vampire Squid’ squid is the most metal cephalopod we have ever seen. Available in high quality art paper or cotton based canvas. vintageprints.co.za

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

www.safarioutdoor.co.za

experience SOUTH AFRICA’S

PREMIUM FLY FISHING SHOP, NOW OPEN in Pretoria

Safari Fishing is the latest addition to South Africa’s largest Hunting and Safari related shop, Safari Outdoor.

Catering for every type of fisherman’s needs, including a wide range of fly fishing gear and apparel.

LOCATED AT SAFARI OUTDOOR PRETORIA • Lynnwood Bridge, c/o Daventry & Lynnwood Rd • Tel: 0861 22 22 69 follow us on social media

or visit safarioutdoor.co.za

BASS & BEERS

LEVEL HEADED WHEN SOUTH AFRICA MOVED, OVER SEVERAL MONTHS, FROM LEVEL 5 L O C K D O W N ( D E F C O N 5 , D O N ’ T L E AV E Y O U R F R O N T D O O R ) , T O L E V E L 4 ( WA L K T H E D O G S A N D E X E R C I S E B E T W E E N 6 - 9 A M ) , T O L E V E L 3 ( S T I L L N O S M O K E S O R B O O Z E , B U T C A S I N O S , TA X I S A N D C H U R C H E S A R E C O O L ) , R E B E L L I O N B E G A N T O B R E W. T O S AV E T H E I R S A N I T Y, GRAHAM WEAKLEY AND SOME BASS BASHING BUDDIES, MADE A P L A N T O F I S H F O R T H E F I R S T T I M E I N O V E R 7 0 D AY S .

he invitation arrived late on a Monday night, the umpteenth Monday that had rolled around in the tedium of lockdown lethargy. My event supply business was dead in the water. Lockdown had not been kind to my appearance either. I was spending my days in my newly acquired Level 3 sleep shorts. Class, as they say, is permanent. With a Simms cap to control the growing poodle perched on my pip and with the constant snacking, I was one White Russian cocktail away from being The Dude in The Big Lebowski.

Three weeks in, I had taken to creating dubbing loops from the hair I was sweeping up - a job kindly gifted me by my wifely breadwinner. These loops came in three shades of brunette and, with a little bit of Senyo Lazer dub in the blend and some gentle Velcro persuasion, I’d created some of the buggiest profiles I’d ever seen. I proudly dubbed the dubbing ‘Dear Hair’ and, dreaming of the gold mine I’d struck with an endless supply of hair at hand, I treated myself to a congratulatory Scotch. By week five, I had taken to false casting off my rooftop deck. By week six, the closest I’d come to fishing was when the Cape Doctor deposited colours, whites and delicates from the wash-line over my neighbour’s trees and driveway. Between the wee hours of two and three in the morning, I had employed my 8-weight and shooting head combo to great success, retrieving all the frilly garmentry through a series of deft rolls and double hauls. Then… I spooked the school. I had indeed found fame at last, not so much YouTube, but as the star of my road’s CCTV security cameras.

But back to the 70-days-in invitation. We were officially into Level Three and not entirely sure of the legality of a fishing trip, but I was going to live on the edge of the mixed-message-mayhem. So, armed with my recentlyacquired ‘Media and Entertainment’ essential services licence, I was ready to roll. They say “Not all heroes wear capes”, so Captain Creative here was simply visiting his farmer client in Elgin to consult about a daughter’s up-coming wedding which, tragically, had been delayed. Such services would surely be deemed “essential” as stated in bold type on my permit. The fact that the wedding ceremony, now reduced in numbers of course, had moved from the apple barn to the house on the banks of his private bass lake was simply fortuitous. This was the story we had hatched for the anticipated road blocks - sheer brilliance, I thought, with rod tubes stashed and a blanket covering the kickboat. Turns out, there was no roadblock and so we were at the gate waiting for the early morning sun to pop, and for the last of our soldiers to arrive. I was joined on the mission by Derrick Snyman,- a proper fly fishing legend who holds a line class record for barbel on fly. He has represented two provinces in rock and surf and can flat-out bass fish. Garnet Prince, well-known in Cape fly fishing circles is a proud member of the Cape Piscatorial Society. He regularly gets involved in the numerous grunt tasks of alien bush-clearing and river clean-up. He is an all-round good guy who loves catching bass on fly and is as close to a purist as a Katemba and Diet Coke… My kinda guy.

“NOT ALL HEROES WEAR CAPES”, SO CAPTAIN CREATIVE HERE WAS SIMPLY VISITING HIS FARMER CLIENT IN ELGIN TO CONSULT ABOUT A DAUGHTER’S UP-COMING WEDDING WHICH, TRAGICALLY, HAD BEEN DELAYED.” W W W. T H E M I S S I O N F LY M A G . C O M

From the cities to the countryside, carguards pop up everywhere these days.

“I STUCK WITH THE EVERDEPENDABLE DAHLBERG DIVER, CONFIDENT THAT THE BASS, HAVING NOT SEEN A FLY FOR THREE MONTHS, WOULD SURELY COME TO PARTY”

Garnet’s ever-reliable Golf was back in the shop, but he had told me that he would make a plan to be there on time. True to his word, he made it. He instantly won Man of the Match before a single cast was made, because he trundled over the hill in an Uber packed to the hilt with a kickboat and all his gear. It was a first for all of us, but that is just how desperate the man was to catch a fish! His driver sped off into the distance to wait out the session after which we’d drop him back for the return trip. Nobody dared ask the value of said transaction – after 70 days it was totally irrelevant. Seventy long days had left the three of us with a serious case of the ‘viskoors’ (fish fever). This is when one loses all ability to perform basic tasks, like the setting-up of kickboats and tying of leaders! Finally, with the sun having cast the most beautiful light over the water, we kicked off, filled with anticipation. I stuck with the everdependable Dahlberg Diver, confident that the bass, having not seen a fly for three months, would surely come to party. Surface or bust, right? Derrick and Garnet went for streamers and our parting shot was an instruction to holler like a red neck on the first contact. As if scripted, I got boiled on, on my second cast, but the fish came unbuttoned during my pig squeal. It then took another seven on-offs with some fruity language before my lockdown rust wore off and I finally held on to a fish. The sheer elation and profound joy was indescribable. After 1680 fishless hours, here I was doing something so special to all fly fishermen. My most memorable snapshot came when fishing to a sunken brush pile with Garnet. He had just been snagged on a branch and kindly gifted me the next gooi before going in to retrieve his fly. It was one of those commit-or-die situations, where you either get it bang-on or suffer the same fate of tree connection. The fly landed on target, I gave it a gentle dive, waited for it to surface and we both counted down the strike, which arrived on cue in spectacular fashion with the fish breaching like Zen Air Jaws…Chris Fallows himself would have been impressed! I went on to get another ten fish, nothing big but all worth a shot, with the biggest weighing in at 1.2kg. We all caught fish throughout the day, with Derrick’s fish tipping the scales at just over 1.5kgs and Garnet landing the only trout, a nice egg-laden hen of 40cm. As we gathered over the travel braai, affectionately christened the “Tjop Swaai Masjien,” we shared the last three Tafel Lagers, which had been chilling in the dam. There was an incredible sense of relief that lockdown had somewhat lifted, together with an acknowledgement of how good we have had it and for how long. The Old Normal was epic and, with level heads, let’s hope the New is even vaguely as good. The fish are well and happy and waiting for your perfect presentation. Nothing has changed. Let’s all put 70 fishless days well behind us and, in the infamous words of the ever-cool Buzz Lightyear, “To level 1 and beyond!”

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

THE OLD NORMAL WAS EPIC AND, WITH LEVEL HEADS, LET’S HOPE THE NEW IS EVEN VAGUELY AS GOOD.”

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THE LIFER

THE WEST COAST KING W H I L E H E S O U N D S ( A N D L O O K S ) L I K E A W W E S U P E R S TA R , J I M M Y “ T H E S H A R K M A N ” E A G L E T O N I S O N E O F S O U T H A F R I C A’ S P I O N E E R I N G S A LT WAT E R F LY A N G L E R S , FAV O U R I N G T H E W I N D S W E P T W E S T C O A S T. I N T H E H I G H LY U N L I K E LY P R O B A B I L I T Y T H AT Y O U ’ L L B U M P I N T O H I M AT N I G H T O N A T I D A L I S L A N D , H E ’ L L M A K E Y O U A COFFEE AMIDST THE GUANO. Photos. Ryan Janssens & Leonard Flemming

The first fish I ever caught was a carp with my dad. He use to make radio controlled boats to drop the bait off in the middle of the dam. I think if that fish escaped it would have crushed fatherhood for him. He still talks about it as if it had happened yesterday.

I’m not that great in a corporate environment where abbreviations are used to the extent that it sounds like a code. I also find electronic gadgets or systems not too user-friendly. Outdoor activities, especially those that involve fishing, come naturally to me.

I have only called two places home. The bush veld up north where I spend my youth catching all manner of wild life and the Western Cape where I got domesticated by my lovely wife.

Days on the rig start as easy as it gets. My bedroom door is right in front of a lift. Two storeys down and, voila, the door opens up in the galley for breakfast. After breakfast I put on the work outfit and I go straight into the smokers to try and wake up. After that there’s usually a lot going on with not a lot actually happening. Once that’s sorted and prioritised, we get going with a plan but always end up being reactive. Lunch follows with a 30 minute power nap and off we go again. The day ends with a good dose of tongue-in-cheek banter with the boys where you laugh more at yourself then at the other guys. At home, I’m a loved-up stay-at-home dad, or my best version of one.

I’m probably most proud of having survived my childhood. I had an unquenchable curiosity about the bush and the animals in it. Catching live animals barehanded became an obsession and the more dangerous and bigger they were, the better. I can still remember my father trying to shoot a puff-adder with me, his nine-yearold son, holding the snake by the tail and moving in front of his rifle to prevent him from getting a clear shot. All that, while the blood was running down my face from where it had bitten me on the eyebrow. Things really escalated as a teenager and I was crazier than a badger with rabies. My poor parents …I’m so proud of them. I’ve had a few jobs that have given me some fun detours and kept life colourful and humble but, as far as careers go, I have only had two. One was in the horticultural industry where I can honestly say that I did just about every job and gained a lot of insight into everything from plant production to retail, land rehabilitation and landscaping. I really had a passion for cycad pollination, the horticultural equivalent off artificial insemination. In my current career, I would, in layman’s terms, be called a “climber”. My professional title is RAT/Rope Access Technician, aka dope on a rope. I work on oil rigs.

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The best advice I have ever been given came from a senior colleague who has an air of the military about him. It started with, “Listen here smarty pants, let me take you to smarty land. There are thousands like you out there, so you better up your game, son.” Both the delivery and the message were very clear. Like everybody else, when I started saltwater fly fishing, it was just about catching a bloody saltwater fish on fly gear. But now it’s a way to reconnect with nature. You can’t force things and you can only catch what is there and willing. So I just connect to the rhythm and feel content with what is on offer. Add my wife and two kids into the equation on the same day and that is what a perfect day looks like to me.

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

“YOU WON’T BUMP INTO A SALTWATER FLY ANGLER WEST OF CAPE POINT, BUT IT IS A POT OF GOLD FOR THOSE WILLING TO DO SOME REAL HARD TIME.”

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

False Bay in Cape Town is where my home waters start. The further west along the coast, the better. Fishing east of Cape Town is more about friendships than the fishing. You won’t bump into a saltwater fly angler west of Cape Point, but it is a pot of gold for those willing to do some real hard time. You just need to fish hard and constantly and retain a good sense of humour. There’s no real formula as some years things are off the scale and in others, certain species are a complete no show. It’s vast like most arid places around the world with sleepy towns, a cold ocean and a wind that never stops blowing.

The most satisfying fish I ever caught was a sand shark on the sand flats in Langebaan lagoon. After years of only foul-hooking the buggers, I came up with a very odd setup to avoid foul hook-ups. That sand shark was the first one caught on it. After releasing it, I sat down and had the best cup of coffee and cigarette ever. Sand shark decoded for life with one cast. Hell, I was full of myself on the walk back. There is very little that beats a freshly brewed cup of coffee straight out of a Jetboil after midnight on a small West Coast island. The darkness amplifies your senses. In a strange way, the smell of guano and decaying kelp complements the coffee. One place I never want to go to again is Port Harcourt in Nigeria. It was a funny place. When people go on strike there they do it butt naked. Wherever you go in the world, police flash their blue lights for you to get out of the way, but there the police flash a Kalashnikov and if you don’t react they cock it and aim. Every time you hand an official your passport it will cost you a $100 to get it back. But when you hand them a photocopy off your passport, they just smile and let you go on your way. Apparently, there’s even a cannibalistic neighbourhood.

“THERE IS STILL SOME UNFINISHED BUSINESS WITH CATCHING YELLOWTAIL OFF THE ROCKS THAT I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF.”

Jimmy’s Silicone Mullet, a must-have fly for the Cape salt. Available from facebook.com/retroflystudio/

One place I have to return to are the cliffs at Cape Point. There is still some unfinished business with catching yellowtail off the rocks that I need to take care of. I really don’t know why, but it’s an idea I can’t let go of. I think it will be one of those fish that really matters, even if it’s done only once. By far the best party trick I have ever seen would be Conrad Botes’s impersonation of a Garrick chasing a popper. All fly anglers are liars. They think they are fly fishing to catch fish, but they know there is more to it than just catching a fish, way more. The handiest survival skill I have is a knack for moving large, heavy objects. One skill I would like to master is to use my ears and mouth in relation to each other. The biggest adventures I have been on have been the ones where things went wrong. Like that one trip to Sodwana. When we talk about that trip it doesn’t start with, “Remember how crazy the last evening was when we caught all those shad?” Nope, it starts with, “Remember that time we missed the turn off to Sodwana and decided to go through the veld in the VW Golf… after it rained? And it ends with, “Can’t believe that, despite that, we caught all those shad on the last evening.”

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Before I die, I want to build an off-road teardrop trailer set up for off-the-grid living and take my family to the Richtersveld on fly fishing trips. I would also like to do an expedition to one specific island in the Atlantic. There are no flats, it has just a single stretch of beach. The shore based species are all pelagic. This is another one of those ideas that just won’t go away. If I could change one thing in fly fishing, it would be to see more and more local products. The fishing market within our borders should exceed those in far flung exotic places. We need to add a financial value to our species otherwise they won’t be managed sustainably. And there will be more eyes on the water. Looking back on my life, I don’t think that, if I had to do it again, I would survive another go at any of the various stages. It’s cheesy but true, that things needed to be the way they were to find the person that I am. Something I have changed my mind about is fresh water fly fishing, in the more barren parts of the Orange River in particular. I would like to fish it on foot to get the full experience of the environment and all the creatures in it. The last fish I caught was a nice leerie/garrick on the banks of the Berg River estuary at Velddrif.

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

SHOP ONLINE

@upstream_flyfishing

• Rods, Reels & Lines • Apparel & Gear • Fly Tying Materials • Custom Tied Flies

@UpstreamFly

E: fish@upstreamflyfishing.co.za

www.upstreamflyfishing.co.za

Visit the shop: 274 Main Road, Kenilworth, Cape Town, South Africa, 7708

T: +27 (0) 21 762 8007

POP QUIZ S M A R T- A R S E O R D U M B - A S S ? P I G W I T H A B R A I N C H I P O R A M O E B A W I T H A S L A P TJ I P ? TA K E O U R Q U I Z T O S E E W H AT Y O U P I C K E D U P DURING CLASS

2. When he’s not making nets, fly boxes and other fishing accessories, Shaun Futter applies his woodworking skills to (page 16) A. The finest in rare wood buttplugs. B. The finest in rare wood cricket bats. C. The finest in rare wood totems to the Old Gods. D. The finest in rare woods that a woodchuck might chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood. E. The finest in rare wood audio products. 3. If you have been “smoked by a good barbel,” Alan Hobson of the Angler & Antelope recommends (page 18) A. Ben Dover. B. Ben Nevis. C. Ben Raich. D. Ben Affleck. E. Matt Damon.

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4. Incredibly, the big brown trout of Germany can be caught despite (page 40) A. An E. coli bloom. B. A Tampon Migration. C. A Bourne Ultimatum. D. A Dombaj Hangover. E. An encounter with Giant Hogweed. 5. “Don’t fuck it up,” is the first rule of (page 56) A. Fight Club. B. Club 15. C. The Red Rock Gorge Largie Club. D. Club Tropicana. E. Seal Club. 6. Before he dies Jimmy Eagleton wants to go fishing (page 110) A. On the Cape streams for dainty trout. B. On the flats of the Seychelles for GTs and bones. C. For compliments at the International Cycad Conference. D. For pelagic species on a remote Atlantic island.

Answers: 1. B, 2. E, 3. C, 4. B 5. C, 6. D

1. According to Leonard Flemming, Hippo Dandruff is… (page 14) A. Lizzo’s new hit single/. B. What purple labeo feed on. C. The name of Steve Bannon’s cologne. D. The reason for most hippo vs croc disputes. E. The residue left in the tub after the Springbok front row take an ice bath.

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

TIGERS OF PONGOLA

WHERE: Lake Jozini WHEN: Autumn and Spring THE EXPERIENCE: Lake Jozini is home to the southernmost population of Tigerfish in Africa.Â This is your chance to tame Africaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s striped water dog, on light tackle with no passports and no international flights required. THE FISHING: Lake Jozini has a variety of different habitat along its shores and we work the very productive estuary section and multiple bays in and around the dam. Targeting these homegrown tigers can be done with the usual fast sinking lines on 9wts as well as the very exhilarating ultra-light 7wts and intermediate lines in the shallows and margins. We make use of purpose-built skiffs with trolling motors which are a game changer when controlling the drift and speed and keeping you in the zone.

WWW.FLYFISHING.CO.ZA

For more trip details and to book: travel@flyfishing.co.za Mavungana Flyfishing Centre, Main Road, Dullstroom, 013 254 0270 Mavungana Flyfishing JHB, Shop 3B, Illovo Square Shopping Centre, 011 268 5850

SAVING SAN C O N S E R V I N G S O U T H A F R I C Aâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; S M O S

WEB SERIES

SPONSOR A

NDFISH

T THREATENED MIGRATORY FRESHWATER FISH

A SANDFISH

Photo: Jeremy Shelton Co-founder Fishwater Films

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