11 minute read
EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED
SOMERSET EAST EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED
MAKING A LONG OVERDUE VISIT TO ALAN HOBSON AT THE ANGLER & ANTELOPE (ANGLERANDANTELOPE.CO.ZA) IN SOMERSET EAST, TUDOR CARADOC-DAVIES EXPECTED QUALITY TROUT FISHING. HE GOT THAT, BUT ALSO GOT A GLIMPSE OF SO MUCH MORE.
Photos.Gillian Caradoc-Davies, Tudor Caradoc-Davies
“Everything around here has a story,” said Alan Hobson as he navigated the turns of the Waainek Pass, just north of Somerset East. We were winding our way up to the top of the 1782m high Boschberg, the mountain that looms over the town, en route to the aptly named ‘Mountain Dam,’ one of many waters in the area that Alan has access to. In the car behind us were my parents, while Alan and I led the way in his bakkie.
For my folks and me, the final destination for the trip was the Wild Coast/Transkei where we were meeting the rest of the clan for a family holiday. The idea was to break the journey by spending a few nights in Somerset East, fishing with Alan and staying at The Angler & Antelope, the guesthouse he and his wife Annabelle run.
As we gained elevation on the Boschberg, Alan pointed out the change in flora between four distinct biomes, while continuing with his story-telling. He was giving me some historical background on the area, specifically the Slagtersnek Rebellion that occurred in 1815 a few kilometres away in the direction of Cookhouse. One of the catalysts for The Great Trek, the story of Slagtersnek has all the uneasy plot points of a latter-day Tarantino flick – a battle over land, racism, Boers, Brits, a Cape Coloured Regiment, a shooting, a trial, and a horrendous failed group execution by hanging that eventually went through on the second attempt. Reaching the Alpine escarpment covered in long grasses and stunted trees, to the north we could see the mountains where Thrift dam is, another destination just over three hours from Somerset East, and on the distant hills to the south we could see a new wind farm that had just been switched on. It took years to build and brought a boost to the depressed economy of the region, but with construction wrapping up, the lodgers and their spending are gradually moving on. Opportunities like this are scarce and Alan has seen how easy it is for them to pass his town by. Somerset East was almost chosen as the site for a new factory by the family who own the Montego dog food empire, but due to politics and infighting they took it to Graaf Reinet further up the R63. After battling with several farm gates, witnessed by the bemused resident horses and cattle, our day’s stillwater trout fishing on Mountain Dam commenced. My old man is a little wobbly on his legs these days, but sharp on the strike and within a couple of casts he had already caught the fish of the day. I picked off a few rising stockies on dry flies before we stopped for lunch, an impressive braai that Alan put together on a mini-Weber he hauled out the back of his bakkie. Talking of that bakkie, other than the fact that it was equipped with every bit of tackle or tool you might ever need for day’s fishing anywhere in the Eastern Cape, what blew me away was that most of the many ammo boxes stuffed into the back were packed with fly boxes. We’re talking filled to the brim with thousands and thousands of flies. You know… just in case. Later, I’d check out Alan’s fly shop around the corner from The Angler & Antelope and it would all make sense. About the size of your average family SUV, his shop is better stocked than many shops three times the size.
My folks left Mountain Dam shortly after lunch and by the time I got back on the water the afternoon session switched on properly. The fish were hammering the tiny green Cormorant flies Alan had palmed me while packing up the braai. We stopped fishing when we lost the light and started to miss strikes. Plus I wasn’t sure if my hands were still attached to my arms, it was that cold.
Mountain Dam was our second outing with Alan, a fishery he knows is a banker. We had driven up the previous day from the Cape, arriving with enough time for a late afternoon session. Our 9-weights, which were intended for kob in the Transkei, were rigged up with streamers and poppers, with we set off to catch some massive catfish. It’s not what you might expect when someone mentions the gentile idea of fly fishing in the Eastern Cape but, if you’re omnivorous in your tastes, as I am, the idea of catching a behemoth barbel on fly was massively appealing. Alan took us to a pool on a nearby dairy farm where the runoff from the dairy creates a high-protein slurry and therefore, extra fat catfish. A bitterly cold wind came up so we blanked on barbel, but it’s definitely one for a return visit. Driving back to Somerset East where Annabelle’s home-cooked meals awaited us (plus a vast selection of whisky in the Angler & Antelope’s pub which was once a chapel), Alan pointed out the exact gap in the hills where we could expect kudu to come on to the road at night and hit the car.
I first met Alan and Annabelle a few years back at the Getaway show and then we met again at each annual Fly Fishing Expo (before that died off). As active show-goers, for years they have put in the hard yards when it comes to marketing. Manning their stands at events like these, they’ve put an immense amount of time and effort into promoting Wild Fly Fishing in the Karoo, their immaculate Somerset East guest house The Angler & Antelope and tourism in general for both the town and region.
The Hobsons used to be in the corporate clothing game in Johannesburg, until they decided to change tack and get into tourism and hospitality. Alan is from this part of the Eastern Cape so, he not only knows how it works, he knows how to work it. Historian meets field ranger, meets expert fly fishing guide, fly tyer, raconteur, diplomat, politician and civic-minded burger, he knows all the stories of the area, from the natural world to the human. Perhaps most importantly, considering the water scarce nature of the region, Alan knows when there will be water flowing from the Orange-Fish River tunnel into the rivers and irrigation systems of the Cacadu municipality. He knows when he will be able to harvest yellows from those systems, which farmers have water and who will be amenable to having him stock their dams with trout or smallmouth yellows. He knows who, among the local municipalities, is friendly, who is not, where the age-old vendettas lie and how to navigate it all.
Without this deep insider knowledge – from just where kudu will crash into your car to where to take guest for fishable, accessible water - Wild Fly Fishing in the Karoo, the Angler & Antelope and the Bankberg Fly Fishers Club
that Alan runs, would not be as successful as they are. Like many people in small towns who have multiple roles, Alan wears many hats. Outside of the fly fishing, he also helps run what is perhaps Somerset East’s biggest drawcard, the Walter Battiss Museum. The artist behind Fook Island and the ‘island of the imagination’, Battiss was born in Somerset East and is one of the town’s most famous sons.
With limited time left, we divided the last day into two sessions. The morning was to be spent going for smallmouth yellowfish and Florida bass in a dam on a game farm about an hour away, while the afternoon was reserved for the Naude’s River halfway up the Waainek Pass again where we would find a waterfall that inspired Battiss. The morning session was blown out by the wind, though from that small taste of what looks like a trophy dual species dam (I’ve seen what comes out of there) , I got enough of a sense of the vast range of fishing Alan has at his fingertips. In fact, much of my time was spent discovering that around pretty much every bend, there’s a lot that’s deceptive about the Eastern Cape and specifically, this section that forms part of the Karoo. Whether it was the drive up from Port Elizabeth, driving further inland to Graaf Reinet or east towards Cradock, we were constantly reminded how lazy a descriptor “the Karoo” is for such a diverse place. If you live in South Africa’s bigger urban centres like Gauteng, Cape Town or Durban, “the Karoo” is this catchall phrase for the vast brown deserted expanse in the middle of South Africa. Sure, it may be divided further into the Groot/Great and Klein/Little Karoo, but that doesn’t really do much to delineate the different areas, biospheres, flora and fauna found there.
Your surrounds change all the time from dairy pastures with fat cows, to heavily irrigated crop fields, classic Eastern Cape hills crowded with prickly pears and aloes, farms with boer goats and merino sheep. There are game farms that mainly supply the hunting industry with rare sought-after variants like yellow blesbok and golden wildebeest, though they do the safari lodge thing too. In fact, there’s a good chance of being visited by a rhino or something similarly large while fishing one of Alan’s waters. A few years back, Ed Herbst visited Alan and was taken to fish a stream bordering the Mountain Zebra National Park near Cradock. While stalking trout, Ed himself was stalked, through the game fence, by a pair of cheetah. I always thought Alan’s brand, Wild Fly Fishing in the Karoo, referred to the target species being wild but, in retrospect, it’s as much in reference to what you might encounter as you fish. Dropping my folks off in town at midday to tackle the Battiss museum, Annabelle sorted us out with a packed lunch and we were off again up the Waainek pass, this time stopping halfway at the turn off to the Naude’s River. As his bakkie rattled over the bumps, we drove up to a gate sporting signs warning this was leopard territory. On the other side of the gate was a heavily thicketed kloof frequented by cattle, warthog and large cats. There, amid magnificent trees, lay the Naude’s River and, at the base of an incredible rock amphitheatre frequented by black eagles and giant kingfishers, was the jaw-dropping 80m high Glen Avon waterfall. Below the waterfall, there were trout. Not a hint of trout or a suggestion of trout, but confirmed trout bred by mad scientist/stocking legend Martin Davies in Grahamstown and stocked and blessed by Alan. That meant they were the same super-trout strain that will savage anyone under 4ft who ventures into the shallows at Thrift Dam.
Alan has spent years fishing this kloof so he knows all too well how the fish feed. One of his favourite approaches is to imitate the beetles that get knocked off the cliff face by the winds and spray. I spent a good two hours casting flies at that waterfall, bouncing Alan’s Fried Egg beetle pattern (a black beetle with a visible yellow and white sighter on the back) off the amphitheatre wall so that it landed with a plop in the white water and got smashed by hangry rainbow trout. From the incredible setting, to the strength and size of the fish and how surprising the whole experience was, it was one of the better trout stream sessions I have ever had.
That’s the funny thing about this town and the fly-fishing flag Alan and Anabelle have planted. Most people stop off here on their way somewhere else, like Rhodes, Thrift or, in our case, the Wild Coast, when what we should be doing is seeing it as a deserved destination in its own right. Where else can you go from a 9-weight to a 3-weight, from barbel to trout, yellows and bass, take a game drive on the way to your fishing, get all the stories your brain can handle and finish each day with great food and an unparalleled selection of whiskies?
The Karoo is wild and so is its fly fishing. You’re going to want a guide. Phone Alan.
