14 minute read
OPEN SECRETS
ZANDVLEI OPEN SECRETS
THERE’S A TIME TO BE QUIET AND THERE’S A TIME TO BE HEARD. FOR RICHARD WALE , WHEN IT COMES TO CONSERVING THE LEERVIS AND THE GENERAL FISH POPULATION OF HIS HOME WATERS OF ZANDVLEI, CAPE TOWN’S PREMIER URBAN ESTUARY, STAYING QUIET NO LONGER MAKES SENSE.
Photos. Nick van Rensburg, Richard Wale archive, Stuart Purnell, Andy Killick
Ifirst fished Zandvlei when I was in my early teens and after quite a few missions finally managed to catch my first decent leervis (garrick) in the Marina Da Gama area on an old-school Tasmanian Devil spinning lure. This was before the time of mobile phones and digital photos, but that moment is etched in my memory and every time I go past the spot where I caught that first leerie I feel a sense of nostalgia. Those first visits to Zandvlei were motivated by my peers in our school’s piscatorial society, some of whom I am still in touch with. Bar a few missions in between, it was only in my late twenties that I really started fishing Zandvlei properly. This was prompted by the fact that I moved to within five minutes of the estuary.
I still live here. What I discovered that very first time and what has been reinforced again and again over the years, is that Zandvlei has amazing fly fishing for leervis. There, I said it.
This is the moment where, if this were the script to a Police Academy movie, I’d have just walked through the wrong door into the Blue Oyster bar, the music would screech to a halt and all eyes would turn to me. If it were a meme featuring Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson, he would raise that iconic eyebrow. If it were a Morgan Freeman narration, he would say, “And that… was Richie’s first mistake.” You get the picture.
The golden rule about “secret” fishing spots is that you are not meant to give them away. Having been a fly-fishing guide, competitive fly fisherman, casting tutor, fly tying tutor, commercial fly tier and having worked in the retail side of fly fishing, I know all too well the politics that arise around secret spots that produce good fishing. Once an angler ‘finds’ such a spot, what happens next generally goes one of two ways. Younger or more novice anglers tend to be so ecstatic with their success that they demonstrate their excitement to as many people as possible by sharing pics or info. More seasoned anglers, perhaps burnt from previous experiences of oversharing, are intent on keeping a secret spot quiet for as long as possible, so that they and their friends can enjoy it before it gets ruined. Most of us have been both of these anglers at some stage.
Most secret spots are far from urban areas because, let’s be honest, as a general rule of thumb, the more people involved, the worse the fishing is. Zandvlei is one of those rare exceptions, both because it’s urban and sort of a secret, but also because in this rare case involving more people may actually make it better. As far as its clandestine status goes, Zandvlei is both a secret and not a secret at the same time. Schrodinger’s estuary if you will. Numerous articles have been published about this spot over the years, coupled with a plethora of photos, videos and blogs, most of them not in the name of conservation. If you search for “Leervis in Cape Town” online or something similar, plenty of links will come up mentioning Zandvlei. Despite all this, it’s just one of those places anglers seldom talk about openly, even if it’s not that hard to find out about it if you have access to Google and a prefrontal cortex. It has the air of a jealously guarded surf spot, frequented only by locals, a bit like the local scene depicted in the skate/surf documentary Dogtown and the Z-Boys set in Santa Monica which, despite being filled with pollution and dangerous obstacles, still produces a good wave that the locals protect. In much the same way Zandvlei has for years been protected by local fishermen. That does not mean fishing at Zandvlei is easy. In fact, it’s often not good. There are definite windows when the fishing is on and other times when you can go months without catching a fish. But, as leervis fisheries go, it is one of the best I have experienced and, as urban fisheries go, there are few this near to a city that come close. The fish at Zandvlei can be tricky and require a bit more understanding than the usual, “pushing tide on a good bank scenario”. But, if you are willing to put the time in to figure them out, there is great fly fishing for leervis at Zandvlei . So, why the hell then, if it’s such a great fishery, am I breaking the rules and talking about it? I’ll explain.
First off, I did not decide to do this lightly. In fact, for a long time, I was of the school of thought that we have to keep this place completely quiet. So if I went with friends I’d insist on no pics or posts in order to try and limit the number of people made aware of its fly fishing potential. The belief was that, ’If you post pictures of leeries or tell people you are catching leeries at Zandvlei Estuary Nature Reserve (or ZENR as it’s known), then the masses will flood
in and clean it out’. This belief was justified as there have been many poachers over the years fishing live bait and taking out undersize leeries on a large scale. To many, a fish is just a fish. They’re there to be taken and the concept of catch and release is nonsensical. The idea that it could all end – fish stocks, healthy estuaries, fishing – is simply unfathomable.
As I mulled over the idea of this article, I spoke to a lot of people in both the fly fishing and conventional fishing scenes who have a vested interest in the future of Zandvlei. That included a WhatsApp group I am a part of (called the Zandvlei Recreational Angling Association), which is evolving into a full-blown community organisation. Lawyers and accountants are currently finalising the paperwork and financials required to formalise its status. I also spoke directly to respected local luminaries: from Zandvlei angling legends like Anton Ressel, and Gary Shung King, to highly regarded scientists who live on Zandvlei like Dr Pat Garrett (a marine biologist, fly angler and surfer who ran the Two Oceans Aquarium for two decades) and highly accomplished geologist Dr. Andy Killick and his wife Kirsty. Because I threw the net wide looking for input on whether this was a good thing to do, I expected a bit of resistance, even some severe push back, possibly even a mild death threat or three. Instead, to my surprise, everyone I spoke to thought it was a good idea to publicise both the positives and the problems at Zandvlei, because (to put it mildly), Zandvlei is in the shit.
While local anglers have done what they can to protect it over the years, the problems facing Zandvlei are too big and too numerous to face alone. We need help, because if we don’t do something about this special place, we will lose it altogether. That’s not a dramatic statement, because it has happened to other urban estuaries right under our noses. Milnerton estuary, for example, on the other side of Cape Town, used to produce good leeries and other species of fish, but is now a heavily-polluted body of water that neither new-comers nor hard-core fisherman can find any value in. In my opinion, it is beyond the point of conservation and it is even questionable as a long-term restoration project. This is not the case for Zandvlei Estuary Nature Reserve just yet, but it easily could be.
It’s not just us anglers who will lose out if Zandvlei is ruined, it’s everyone who cares about the place, because Zandvlei is obviously not just about the fishing. The more time I spend on the water here, the more I understand how much this place gives to locals. People from all walks of life canoe and paddleboard on the water; birders twitch; people walk their dogs here every day; they play soccer and fly kites on the lawns and, on the weekends, entire extended families have braais at the municipal braai-places. It’s easy to see why. With a vista that ranges from ocean views of False Bay, to the ring of mountains stretching from Muizenberg Peak right above Zandvlei, across Ou Kaapse Weg and Silvermine, Steenberg, Table Mountain and Devil’s Peak, it’s one of the most picturesque settings in one of the most picturesque cities on earth. That it has a resident population of good-sized leervis makes it even better. I moved into the area in my late twenties and I have now been here nine years. I have put the time in on the water, had some amazing fishing, made a lot of friends and watched the vlei go through its various cycles, both natural and, unfortunately, man-made. In 2012 there was a massive algae bloom which resulted in a huge die off of fish. This was due to the mouth being closed for too long, combined with heat of summer and extremely high nutrient levels. Not only did countless fish die as direct result of the algae preventing them from processing oxygen, but numerous fish were slaughtered by the public when they congregated at the closed mouth trying to get out to the ocean and to evade the algae bloomed water in the ZENR. When I say it was a slaughter, it was nothing short thereof, with people literally taking to the water with pitch forks in hand! A combination of low salinity levels from an insurge of fresh water, extremely high nutrient levels from sewage spills and fertiliser run off and increased heat levels resulted in another one of these algae blooms and a mass fish die off and/or exodus. The same conditions can also result in a large amount of aquatic weed growth which can make fishing and other water sports almost impossible. Poaching, like prostitution, is one of those age-old problems that will probably never go away entirely, but it can be kept in check with frequent patrols and monitoring. Usually, it’s the live bait guys killing juvenile
Big or small, Zandvlei stalwarts Andy and Kirsty Killick catch and release more leervis than most people.
leervis, which heavily impacts the future recruitment of this population. In 2015, there was even a bloke that would go out on a boat under the cover of night and gill net masses of undersize leeries, which were then illegally sold for cash. Fortunately, he was busted with three gill nets measuring over 150m collectively and with 136 fish, including leervis, juvenile white steenbras and mullet. He was fined around R4 000 for his crimes which, in my opinion, is a ridiculously low penalty if the idea is to deter future criminal activity. I believe the subsequent threats he received from concerned fisherman and residents of the vlei probably had a much bigger impact on his behaviour.
Whenever nature meets urban growth, there will be complexities and Zandvlei is a complex system. On the Muizenberg beachfront there’s a river mouth that gets sanded up, plus there are suburbs from Muizenberg to Marina da Gama and the sewer system pressures that they bring. The vlei has had to be closed on numerous occasions over the last few years due to sewage spills that resulted in high e.coli (human faecal bacteria) counts in the estuary. It’s the kind of thing that makes you want to wear waders in summer and ensures that you cut your flies off with a nipper instead of your teeth. Over the years I have come to understand more and more about the inner workings of this system, the illusive movement and behaviour of the fish within it, and the politics that surround it. As fishermen we spend more time on the water than most, which is how our WhatsApp group of like-minded guys who frequently fish ZENR evolved into an action platform. As the local eyes and ears of the vlei, we have worked with the Quemic Rangers, the subcontracted security company, to curb the poaching and illegal fishing. Our efforts include going around educating people as to the fishing rules, busting poachers, organising litter cleanups, and essentially keeping a close eye on the water so we can stop anything untoward. Although ZENR has allocated resources and hard-working conservation personnel, the reality remains that it is in the middle of suburbia with multiple access points. The more input from the public, offered in the right manner does, and will continue to, help this system tremendously. While it blows my mind that this system still somehow manages to survive and maintain a healthy population of fish species and other aquatic life despite the problems. But, if not kept in check, the situation can very rapidly deteriorate beyond repair like Milnerton. We’ve seen it happen before and it will happen again. That’s why I believe having more conservation minded anglers on the system can only help conserve the estuary.
Tyron Knight with a fantastic leervis. Despite pollution and poaching, Zandvlei still delivers the goods.
It is not all doom and gloom. This estuary is still one of the best examples of how resilient mother nature can be, managing to bounce back on countless occasions. It is still a healthy system in that there are good fish populations, bird populations and general biodiversity. I believe that humans are more inclined to protect and contribute to the conservation of a resource if it holds value for them. If creating that notion of value through pointing out the fishing potential means that there are going to be more conservation-minded fly fisherman on the water then so be it. The more people who give of their time and their skills, the more effective we will be at conserving Zandvlei. A perfect example of a fly angler who values this resource and has got involved with his skill-set is Dr. Andy Killick. He and Kirsty have lived close to the Vlei for many years and fly fish it more than most, often at 5.30 am. Andy is an accomplished geologist who, free of charge, gave his valuable advice on the current dredging being implemented close to the system’s mouth. Much of the conservation effort at Zandvlei is being driven by people, like Andy, who value the system. I have been amazed at how many people are willing to get involved if they feel they are part of it. If the old adage of, “The end justifies the means” is applied to Zandvlei, then here the end equals the conservation, preservation and improvement of ZENR, and the means is making people aware and getting their vested interest. If I attract back-lash for exposing a “secret spot,” I am willing to accept the consequences. Too much is at stake to not take action.
A couple of weeks ago, in the middle of the Cape winter, I went down to the vlei with my rod, my son and my dog to see if there was any action. When I got there, I found seven fly anglers on the water, which is possibly the most I have ever seen at one time. It’s definitely a record for winter. While I was chatting to one of the guys I knew, another angler hooked a respectable leerie on a crease fly. A leervis, in the city, in winter – that’s what everyone was hoping for, so it brought a few of the other guys in to take a look. As the lucky angler unhooked the fly, revived the fish and released it back into the vlei, he was hit with high fives and congratulations.
Everyone there cared deeply about the fish and about Zandvlei.
That’s the way it should be. To find out more about how you can get involved and help, check out the Zandvlei Trust (zandvleitrust.org.za).
