The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine Issue #34 by The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine

ISSUE 34

JULY/AUGUST 2022

FREE

THEMISSIONFLYMAG.COM

LESOTHO, COLOMBIA, OMAN, PERMIT PROS, INNER CITY TROUT, BLOM, ROB CASKIE, BEERS, BEATS, MUNCHIES & MORE

FAIL is not an Amplitude Titan Big Water Taper “When it’s time to lock up and hold on, I run SA’s Amplitude Big Water Taper. With 100-lb. monofilament core, nothing gives me a better chance with the reef and an angry Giant Trevally.” - Josh Hutchins, SA Ambassador

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Going solo. After two straight months rowing for redsides in central Oregon, guide and wild fish activist Jake Dodd finally gets out from behind the oars and into casting position. ARIAN STEVENS © 2022 Patagonia, Inc.

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HOW TO ECLIPSE THE SUN WITH A UPF RATING OF 50+ EVEN WHEN WET, PRO SUN SYSTEMS BLOCK 98% OF HARMFUL RAYS 100% OF THE TIME

In real-world flats scenarios, you're just as likely to be in the water as you are standing on a poling platform well above it, so we've built the PRO Sun Systems with the industry's highest UPF 50+ rating to protect against constant sunburn even when wet. On the flats and in the skiff, damp gear also chafes and chafed skin ruins days, so our quick-dry PRO Sun Systems lift moisture out and away from your skin.

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Benny Blanco, renowned conservationist, guide, & Orvis ambassador, with his hands on the manual transmission of his client's destiny. Everglades National Park, FL.

Learn more at orvis.com/pro or your nearest Orvis ﬂy shop In South Africa, visit Mavungana Flyﬁshing

W W W . T H E M I S S I O N F LY M A G . C O M ISSUE 34 JULY/AUGUST 2022

CONTENTS Cover: Luke Pannell scans a river valley in Lesotho that may or may not contain a pool with a monstrous rainbow trout, nicknamed Teronko (page 36). Photo Ruhan Kruger.

36. TERONKO It’s not often you get given the “job” of exploring remote valleys and seldom fished rivers for trout. When Luke Pannell and fellow guide Ruhan Kruger went to Lesotho, they found all that, plus mythical water beasts, runaway donkeys, midnight cowboys and more. 50. WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE From enrolling at Pavon Campus, to signing up for Bicuda 101 and graduating in Advanced Payara, Luke Barrell visited the Orinoco River in Colombia to get an education. 62. THE BAPTISM Nerves, self-doubt, self-loathing, duffed shots and failure are all part of the package, as Qatar-based Canadian, Josh Collins, discovered when he lost his mind chasing permit on the beaches of Oman. 80. PERMIT PROS From the Del Brown to the March Merkin Justin Rea and Jose Urcan have been dominating permit competitions of late. We chat to them about how the hell one catches six permit in one session, tips, tactics and more. 96. THE ITCH Big city fishing options are hard to find. Big city fishing options that are not bass or carp are even harder. Finding somewhere to catch trout, while doing your bit as a dad and taking conference calls… in greater Johannesburg? Unheard of. Or so brand strategist Jade dos Santos thought.

REGULAR FEATURES 16. Chum 24. Beers & Beats 26. Wish List Fish 28. Undercurrents 30. High Fives

72. Munchies 84. Salad Bar 94. Pay Day 100. Lifer 108. Pop Quiz

Salmon Fishing in Oman looks unlikely in this dried up wadi leading to the ocean. Fortunately, permit are a solid option (page 62).

T&T Amassadors Justin Rea and Rob Kramarz in the Florida Keys.

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

THE BOVRIL OF BONHOMIE I

used to work as a dishwasher for a celebrated chef in Germany. In his kitchen he had a massive master beef stock pot simmering all the time. From the bones, fat, marrow, meat scraps and veggies that were constantly going into it over several days, it had the most intense flavour. As a result of this base stock his sauces and gravies were next level.

On a particularly ornery character who has been off social media for months. “Shhhh. If you say his name three times he will reappear!

Chef held onto a Michelin star for over 18 years. There were probably other reasons for this, but I’ve always thought of that stock and, the constant tending and addition to the sum of its parts, as the main one. I’ve been thinking of that stock pot a lot of late, especially as after two years of low to no contact with people - low flavour times if you will we’re starting to get back to the way things were.

On unexpected by-catch. “He was fishing for steenies with crabs and got nailed by bronze whalers instead.”

The other day when one of our regular fly tying evenings was kicking off I somehow set off the dictaphone app on my phone. It’s one of my most frequently used apps as I conduct a lot of interviews, so a pocket dial/record should not be that surprising. I only realized, later when I was packing up my stuff to go home, that it was on and that it had recorded a couple of hours of kakpraat.*

“There must be a fly called a Happy Ending?”

I forgot about it, but what I did notice was how good I felt the next morning. Like I’d been on a diet of happy pills, my mind was clear, the spiderweb of desk-bound tension that usually covers my back was gone and there was a spring in my step. On a dog walk a couple of days later instead of listening to a podcast as usual, I saw the audio file and took the opportunity to listen back to this aural potjiekos.

On method. “That’s very much like a smallmouth yellow streamer with an orange hotspot.”

Behold, some completely random snippets from the BBC Earth recording of: Homo sapiens africanus flybefok.

On a squid fly. “Jrrrr, if they are eating chokka, they will nail that.

On malapropisms. “I need to tie a Lapdancer.”

On manners. “Can I take these to the Bokkeveld?” “Of course. You tied them poephol.”

“I ran out of tungsten beads so I’ve been using this scud body plus orange bead chain which I actually prefer. I don’t think it actually matters, it’s just the combo of orange plus black. Bass just want to naai those flies.”

On the wonderful weighting of Loon fly tying tools vs cheaper options. “I use my palm for tension. I’m used to kak bobbins.”

On the Gospel truth. “Most things in fresh water like a black fly. I also like this golden olive colour. Everything in nature from insects to baitfish comes in this colour.”

On a recent crash. “What’s the colour of adrenaline?”

On squad goals...and maths. “I tied 10 flies tonight, fokken hell!”

“Brown!”

“Ru Harvey tied 48 flies in six hours, that’s … one every seven and a half minutes. Started at 9am and put his bobbin down at 15:05.”

On positive reinforcement and smallmouth bass flies. “That would be good for Ben’s dam.” “If I’d had that fly last time I would have fished it with a lot of confidence.” On a slightly older buddy who is traveling and fishing a lot, with his significant other. “How kiff is it that Oom and his missus are smashing the dorado?” “Got to do it while you can. Getting old is not for sissies…Pla can confirm.” “What? I just went for a prostate exam.” On getting as old as our fathers. “My dad wears a hearing aid, which he turns down when my mom is tuning him.” “She should make high-pitched wrrrrrrrrrrring dial up internet sounds so he thinks it’s on the blink.” On a Breede River session. “Nailed it at Groenpuntjie. 8 shots, 1 fish.”

Flies were tied that night, as they usually are, but listening in again it dawned on me that these evenings have another function. They are in effect the most relaxed therapy sessions you could ever participate in. Sure, there was social lubricant - some of us drank and smoked, others teetotaled. Hardly anyone looked at a phone save for changing the music. We all inadvertently shared a bit about our lives – our work (or lack thereof), our wins, our losses, our worries about our various industries and the economy. Still, more time was spent discussing dubbing blends and zonker strips, age and health issues, having kids, brushing out flies and choosing take out pizza, than on anything as pointless and futile as politics. While I am guilty of getting too busy - or lazy - to make them as often as I should, these evenings are golden. A master stockpot where stress, success, check-ins, check-outs and litres of laughter (at each other and ourselves) comes together in the lingua franca of fly fishing. Whether it’s formal events run through clubs or shops or informal hang-outs in someone’s garage, if you don’t already have something like this try make a plan. It makes the gravy of life that much richer. * Banter

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Salty. And Sweet.

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High altitude Coke fiend, Ruhan Kruger, heads back to the Landy after a barefoot Lesotho spaza run. Photo Luke Pannell.

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

EDITOR AT LARGE Conrad Botes COPY EDITOR Gillian Caradoc-Davies MANAGING DIRECTOR Ingrid Sinclair

PHOTOGRAPHERS #34 Ruhan Kruger, Luke Pannell, Fred Davis, Josh Collins, Tim Olsen, Si Kay, Ed Truter, Stu Harley, Luke Barrell, John Wolstenholme, Jay Smit, Platon Trakoshis, Ian Davis

ADVERTISING SALES tudor@themissionflymag.com

THE MISSION IS PUBLISHED 6 TIMES A YEAR. THE MISSION WILL WELCOME CONTENT AND PHOTOS. WE WILL REVIEW THE CONTRIBUTION AND ASSESS WHETHER OR NOT IT CAN BE USED AS PRINT OR ONLINE CONTENT. THE OPINIONS EXPRESSED IN THIS MAGAZINE ARE NOT NECESSARILY THOSE OF THE MAGAZINE OR ITS OWNERS. THE MISSION IS THE COPYRIGHT OF SOUTIE PRESS (PTY) LTD. ANY DUPLICATION OF THIS MAGAZINE, FOR MEDIA OR SALE ACTIVITY, WILL RESULT IN LEGAL ACTION…AND YOU BEING FORCED TO WALK BAREFOOT THROUGH THE FRESHWATER RAY-INFESTED SHALLOWS OF THE ORINOCO RIVER AFTER A NIGHT SPENT FIGHTING A FRIEND OF JUSTIN REA’S CALLED MONTEZUMA.

CONTRIBUTORS #34 Luke Pannell, Josh Collins, Fred Davis, Amie Battams, Si Kay, Nick Smith, Ed Truter, Marlize Heyns, Stu Harley, Luke Barrell, Jose Ucan, Justin Rea, Jade dos Santos, Rob Caskie

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@THEMISSIONFLYMAG

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FOLLOW… …Amie Battams. Lurking in the chalk streams of the UK is a shitload of fly fishing comedy in the form of hilarious, pottymouthed Londoner Amie Battams. Follow her on Instagram: @amie.flyfish, YouTube or Twitter: @BattamsAmie. Home waters? When I am not getting the train out of London I get to fish on my home stretch of the river Wandle. I’m secretary of the Wandle Piscators fishing club (wandlepiscators. net), we look after the river, championing conservation of its wildlife whilst engaging with the local youth. We’ve set out a 5-year plan to train up a few local anglers to a level 2 qualification for coaching (myself included) to provide free lessons and competitions for local kids in the area. It’s important to give back when you can, as much as I love fishing it doesn’t belong to me so I’m making efforts to share my passion and make it sustainable for future generations to come. What do you usually target? I catch everything and anything I can on the fly I’ve had chub, barbell, gudgeon, roach, trout and pike, and will set out to catch as many different species as possible! Can you imagine when I started fly fishing nearly two years ago I didn’t even know what a trout was! Fly fishing pet hate? There is nothing I hate! Even when I get caught in trees or get stung by nettles, I’m living! For me that is the most important thing after wasting much of my youth on drugs

and alcohol I tend to savour every dose of real life I possibly can. I knew my life had changed forever the moment I caught a jack on my first hand-tied pike fly. It was a true sensory overload - the birds were chirping amongst the sound of rippling water, and the smell of the dog shit I slid in whilst netting the pike was at a strength unbeknown to science! That’s living. Shameless product punt? My Greys GR80 8-foot 4-weight Streamflex works a dream on smaller rivers with overgrown trees and vegetation. My favourite reel to partner it with would be a Greys Fin 5/6. For pike fishing it’s the GR80 SALT 9-ft 9-weight partnered with a 9/10 Tail reel. It works an absolute treat. Gay representation in mainstream fishing media? I do not see anyone flying the flag! No company! No manufacturer! No one! So I’ll fly it myself until my arms fall off, for one simple reason... Visibility! To see yourself in something is to have it as an option. I hope that one day when hashtagging the word lesbian it won’t just come up with erotic or over-sexualised images/videos of women as this is not truly representative of the culture. I’d like to see positive representation but to do that you have to put yourself out there so here I am. Happy Pride Everyone! Complete the following sentence - If Izak Walton were alive today, he would... DM me wanting my tuppence but I would have to tell him I was a massive lesbian. He wouldn’t mind, Izak would have plenty tuppence on standby.

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

CHECK OUT… …Comedians on the Fly. The latest project from comedian, conservationist and Bajio ambassador, Eeland Stribling, this new YouTube series sees him take comedian friends fly fishing. It’s a great format, as there’s a general educational vibe with Eeland explaining how both the environment and fly fishing works, but at the same time there’s kak-funny banter between the two comedians. Now he just needs to get a comedian who can fly fish onboard… cough…cough…Jimmy Kimmel. instagram.com/ comediansonthefly

READ… … BEN JAILER’S NEW BOOK FISH CAMP FAIL. Jailer, a fly fishing writer for Fly Culture, Fallon’s Angler, Flyfish Journal and Trout & Salmon, is the freshest, funniest fly fishing writer we have read in a long time. His background writing for video games and screenplays shows through in the pace and humour he brings to his fly fishing misadventures. From quadbiking (a little too closely) with fellow straight Welshmen to clambering down perilous cliffs in the dark in France to target seabass, to his take on being called a paedo for practicing his casting in a park – FISH CAMP FAIL is a must read. Available from Amazon.

“THE FRESHEST, FUNNIEST FLY FISHING WRITER WE HAVE READ IN A LONG TIME”

THE BABER SCOPE YOUR FISHING FUTURE ACCORDING TO YOUR STAR SIGN AS READ BY BABERMAN, THE LEGENDARY GRUMPY CATFISH.

CANCER (CRAB) JUNE 21 – JULY 22 Notorious homebodies, Cancerians love creating safe domestic spaces, which is why you should devote the rest of the winter to making the ultimate wo/man-cave. Have that custom-made fly-tying La-Z-Boy complete with removable bedpan. Put in those retractable rod racks, reel shelves and material organizers. Grow a hard shell made of Flexo tubing and EP fibre. Eat your Jack Russel. Just make sure you have a weather station handy too for when the time comes to make a pincer movement on your local fishery. LEO (LION) JULY 23 – AUGUST 22 Ruled by the sun, attracted to drama and renowned for your bravery (which is also code for not being too smart), winter is not really your time to shine. You’re in need of some warm, tropical vibes in the next few months to show off your inner Lion. I read the entrails of a vulture and they said you should slather yourself in a combination of baby oil and anchovy paste, chum the waters off Northern Australia for bastards, crocs and sharks, and if you survive, fish for a week in nothing but a Speedo. Them’s the rules.

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GET… …YOUR KIFF ON. The Garden Route of South Africa is a hive of activity at the moment. The grunter fishing is next level, the club scene is growing (see below) and, with the rise of KIFF (Knysna’s Innovative Fly Fishing Co.), there’s some great products coming out of the area too. For the non-South Africans in the audience, “kiff” means “cool”, but in an old-school ‘80s/’90s kind of way. KIFF owner Greg Carstens has been fishing for 30 years, but KIFF launched in 2021 a couple of years after he moved to Knysna under 2019’s lockdown. Their products range from lethal-looking SPRATZ creasestyle flies to the POPZ (that Greg’s son Jase tosses at GTs where he guides in the Seychelles), to Grippi thumb and Slippi finger sleeves. For us the stand-outs are the silicone Leader Straightener and the patented Leader Looper - a tough silicone ring that slides onto your reel seat to create a handy T-piece pivot point to loop your leader around so that you keep your leader – fly line connection outside of your rod guides, minimizing frustration and rod tip breaks. Judging by the fact that KIFF is now in the USA too through a partnership with FlyMen Fishing Co., they seem to be onto something. kiff-fly.com, kiffusa.com

KIFF (KNYSNA’S INNOVATIVE FLY FISHING CO.)

JOIN… … Garden Route Fly Fishing. Like a new island emerging from the sea due to volcanic action, new fly fishing club Garden Route Fly Fishers now exists. Wrangled by Chris Wood of Tigerfishing Zambezi, what was just a Facebook page has now become an actual club that meets and greets, convenes for events at The Bell in Belvedere (they are the only people we know of this year showing the Fly Fishing Film Tour) and drinks beer. You can find them on Facebook. SIGN UP FOR… …XPLORER’S SIGNATURE FLY TYING EVENINGS. Designed to introduce you to both new fly tying products and skilled fly tyers that tie phenomenal patterns, these events kick off at 6pm at their concept store in Durban and involve all the materials you need plus snacks and beers! Book to reserve your spot. xplorerflyfishing.co.za ATTEND… … STREAM AND SEA’S FLY TYING EVENTS. Stream and Sea and the Cape Piscatorial Society (CPS) have teamed up for fly tying events in the venerable old CPS clubhouse in the inner city. Co-sponsored by Skout and Mouche Hooks, you can expect hands-on tying instruction and a range of new fly tying products. streamandsea.com, piscator.co.za

LISTEN TO… … The Feather Mechanic Podcast. Gordon van der Spuy, aka The Feather Mechanic, is a lot of things. A professional actor, author, fly tying guru and instructor and now, an accomplished podcast host. With his new podcast The Feather Mechanic, you can expect interviews with our issue 33 Lifer, Tim Rolston, on smallstream basics, our Garden Route grunter guru LeRoy Botha on the spotty bastards and fly tying and Evan D. Brant on breeding the perfect hackle. There’s even one with The Mission’s editor on how this rag came into being. Available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts.

VISIT… … TWO NEW STILLWATER VENUES First up, Frontier Fly Fishing now has access to an amazing new stillwater, Spring Lake, less than three hours from Joburg on a working cattle farm located between Machadodorp and Badplaas. The lake is situated high on a mountain and is fed by four natural springs, the largest of which emerges from the ground and flows for 3kms before entering the lake. That means it stays cold all year and as the lake is not pumped for water, the level stays constant too. Expect incredibly clear water with a variety of features from deep channels and extensive shallows, to weed beds and drop-offs stocked with hard fighting rainbows. Accommodation is in a luxurious modern home built on the lake’s shores. Frontier will be running four-night trips (Thurs-Sun) aimed at beginner or intermediate anglers from October. frontierflyfishing.com

Then, over in the Dullstroom area, Mavungana FlyFishing are opening up Longmeadow Farms, and its long off-limits stillwaters - Davy’s, Longmeadow and Trout Valley. Previously reserved for the grande fromages of mining giant AngloAmerican, anglers can now fish all three properties while staying in a modern 10-sleeper house at Trout Valley. Set among well-established orchards, meadows and old trees, these are pristine dams fed by extensive wetlands or, in the case of Longmeadow, a section of the picturesque Crocodile River, which also offers some great technical fishing. With a range of environments from huge drop-offs to productive shallows, you can expect to target trophy rainbows and browns that have been taking it easy for a few decades. Bookings are limited to a few select prime coldwater months per year. Visit longmeadow.co.za for details.

TARGET TROPHY RAINBOWS AND BROWNS

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ADMIRE THE SWAG OF… … RVCA AND BEN HORTON. The mainstream love for fly fishing continues, with this awesome new Ben Horton collection from surf/skate brand RVCA’s ANP (Artist Network Program). Renowned for the graphics he creates for his skateboard decks, San Diego-based Horton’s Living Downstream collection includes a Hoodie and Longsleeve T, a bucket hat and a nifty-

looking waist pack, all featuring his signature fish artwork. On the idea for the collection, Horton says, “Changes made to the beginning of a stream, affect the end of the stream. Just as decisions made today, flow into options tomorrow. But this is nothing new. We’re living downstream inhabiting the choices made.” Available at thestorestuff.co.za

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BEERS & BEATS THE BEER – SOUL BARREL BREWING CO. Soul Barrel Brewing Company’s Live Culture Grand Cru was recently crowned best beer in Africa. We chat to founder and co-brewer Nick Smith about both the brewery and the beer. Before starting Soul Barrel, you completed a Masters in brewing in California, you were an area manager for the New Belgium Brewing Co. and before that you were the senior brewer at Abita Brewery near your hometown of New Orleans. How did a New Orleanian land up starting a brewery in the wine country of Franschhoek, South Africa? Part of my family is South African. We moved here five years ago with the vision of brewing world class beer that showcases South African ingredients. The beer industry has given me an adventurous life and we hope to provide the same opportunities here and help grow the craft beer industry. The brewery is built within the tank walls of the old Drakenstein Winery Co-Op, which closed in the 80s. Opening the brewery was a way to breathe new life into the cellar and start fermentation again. What’s the story behind the name, Soul Barrel? In New Orleans we believe in living with soul; meaning put meaning, purpose and passion into life. We brew with soul here. We also focus a lot on barrel aging. How did you and your co-brewer Devin Hendricks connect? Do you share a similar frothy, yeasty outlook on life? Devin worked part time down the road with our friends at Cape Brewing Company. When we started asking around, they recommended him to us. He was our first employee. Devin’s passion for beer and brewing was apparent to us immediately. He has worked hard and accomplished a lot in a short time here. Tell us about your champion beer, the Live Culture Grand Cru, which just won best beer on the continent at the African Beer Cup. It’s such a cool, unique beer! Our goal for Live Culture is to make a world class beer, unlike any in the world, displaying the best of South African ingredients. Live Culture is brewed directly into a large French oak barrel that hosts our house-mixed yeast culture. We’ve been brewing into it for almost five years now, and we never re-pitch yeast. Every time we empty it, we brew right back onto the yeast so it evolves with each batch, hence “Live Culture”. The Grand Cru version was our most ambitious to date. Grand Cru is a term brewers borrowed from winemakers, meaning “great growth”, and typically represents a special blend or release of the highest quality. Last year we floor malted a batch of barley in one of our old giant wine tanks, then dried it in the sun and over a fire for a very special beer. This special version of Live

THE BEATS – SI’S PLAYLIST Si Kay, the filmmaker behind the German brown trout flick Kristalklaar has been busy this year making a film about fly fishing for grunter. As he’s bombed around the Garden Route, filming guides and innovative fly-tiers and capturing the spotty bastards unawares, these are the tunes – from MGMT to Jack Parow and Tenacious D – that have kept him going.

PRESS PLAY Non-identical conjoined twins, Si Kay (left) and LeRoy Botha, have perfected the art of the synchronized howzit.

Culture features 100% Soul Barrel malt, made from Caledon barley. A long aging period followed, during which the wild yeast slowly continued to work, contributing the dry, funky, peppery, light fruit notes the Live Culture is known for. After aging it was blended with fresh citrus, fynbos and hops. This version reminds us of aged, dry champagne. The beer is thoroughly imprinted with our environment. The process of growing the grain, fermenting the beer with our native wild yeast, and aging it with our homegrown fynbos gives it a unique sense of place. For many decades there wasn’t much choice in South Africa when it came to beer, but that appears to be changing. As someone who has seen the scene in both countries, in your opinion, when it comes to beer, are South African palates maturing? Definitely! For us to win best beer in Africa with a wild fermented beer like Live Culture is a sign of how things have evolved. We’ve seen a huge increase in our barrel aged beers, and in our intensely flavoured hoppy IPAs and seasonal beers. Our best-selling beers are IPAs, not lagers. Since COVID, we’ve also seen a big increase in people supporting local and uniquely South African beers. What should we be looking out for next from Soul Barrel? We remain intensely focused on quality. We want each beer we brew to be among the best in the world. We want to provide South Africans with a world class beer experience that changes their perception of beer. We’re busy expanding the brewery and further developing our people, and we also have a bunch of new beers we’re working on. We have a whiskey barrel-aged stout coming out soon, a fruity, hazy IPA and another stout brewed with local oats. For more, visit soulbarrel.co.za

Awesome Tools are the exclusive distributors of Stanley in South Africa. Tel: +27 21 981 6672 | www.awesometools.co.za | Facebook @Stanley SA | Instagram @stanley_southafrica

WISHLIST FISH

SPRINGER / SKIPPIES CA L L T H E M L A DY F I S H , S K I PJAC K , T E N P O U N D E R , G I A N T H E R R I N G O R … O U R FAVO U R I T E , S P R I N G E R , B U T W H AT E V E R YO U D O, D O N OT N EG L ECT T H ES E H I G H - S P E E D TA R P O N C O U S I N S F R O M YO U R B U C K E T L I ST. Photo. Ed Truter

WHAT While at first glance they may look like a tarpon bought off Wish.com, springer, to put it mildly, are amazing. Once hooked, they fight like hell, exhibit blistering speed on the run and put on an impressive aerobatic display There are various kinds of springer, but for the purposes of this exercise we’re going to focus on Elops machnata which can grow up to 1.5 metres long and weigh 12kg though they are most commonly found in the 4kg class. WHERE Preferring warm water, you get springer all over the world, from Gabon, to Exmouth in Australia as well as along the South African coast as far south as the Breede river. Arguably the best place to target them locally is the Swartkops River near Gqeberha in the Eastern Cape. WHAT ED SAID Ed Truter is both a font of fishy knowledge and a Gqeberha local who has fished the Swartkops river for years. He gives us the low-down on skippies Do you find you can actually head out for a session to specifically target Springer or are they more of a bycatch while trying for leeries, kob and grunter? Yes, you can totally target them, but you need to know that they are around. They’re a schooling fish and when they’re in town they are generally easy to spot once you’ve got your eye in for their subtle signs. They will generally ‘roll’ a bit like tarpon, especially in a swift outgoing tide, as well as do very quick head and tail ‘rises’ as they delicately engulf shrimp, other tiny crustaceans and small baitfish off the surface. The key is to learn the difference between what a skippy breaking the surface looks like compared with large mullet. Of course that deeply forked tail is a giveaway, but it’s not always visible. Like with so many things, once you’ve seen the rolls and ’surface-nips-and-slides’ a few times you won’t forget it. It always seems that outside of places like the Swartkops, skippies are a little too unpredictable/scarce to target. My observation of skippies in the estuaries of the southern and south-eastern parts of South Africa are that there are

rivers that are skippy rivers and rivers that are not. And this largely stays the same for decades. Sure, the odd school may enter any river for a while, but typically there are rivers that the skippies come back to year after year. And, within those rivers there are reaches that the skippies spend most of their time in, season after season. So once that’s known, you can usually find them there every year, usually from the late spring to early autumn. This is where local knowledge is key, speaking to the locals at a new locale, you can usually quickly determine if you’re at a skippy river or not. What are the ideal conditions in your opinion? What do you look out for? Time of day, time of year, tides, water temp, etc? Skippies love current, and a strong, dropping tide concentrated in channels proximal to shallow areas is almost always the best for them. The last third of a high coefficient tide is especially good and just as an estuary’s sandbanks/mudbanks/mangroves start to be significantly exposed leaving water just in the deeper channels draining the shallows. So look for current, and current lines leading off of mud banks, the convergence of flows from draining channels, accelerating current in the outside of channel bends, etc. Skippies in most of the Wild Coast to Southern Cape waters are a spring to early autumn phenomenon, they are a warm-water fish. That said, with reference to the population that hangs around Algoa Bay, these fish seem to be here all year and we’ve even caught them in the upper Swartkops River in August, but I’m of the opinion that this population is a different genetic subset to the majority of the rest of the skippy population that migrates south from warmer climes each year. Another reason I feel that way is that the Algoa Bay fish are consistently big to very big, sizes that are seldom seen with any consistency within the other rivers and along the coast until one reaches Zululand and north. Tidal flow trumps time of day, but given that the biggest tidal variation is during the spring tidal phase (e.g. following new and full moon), during which low tide occurs between 8h00 and 12h00 (in the ocean, allow for tidal lag upstream) in our region, it’s in that window that one is most likely to encounter skippies. Skippies will often drop downstream

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Eastern Cape fly fishing veteran Anthony Kruger with a smashing skippie

with the last of the outgoing tide and enter the adjacent surf zone around the river mouth, and then push back into the river with a strongly incoming tide, during which time they can also sometimes be caught in the river mouth itself, especially late in the afternoon on spring tides. Skippies are also major night time feeders, so keep that in mind if you’re serious about tangling with a few. In terms of technique - fly tackle, favoured flies, retrieve etc, what works for you? Skippies can be maddeningly frustrating, and far more picky than just about any trout. The thing is they often focus on extremely small prey, and especially tiny crustaceans and very small baitfish. They will chase and eat a 20cm mullet, but most of the time they’re hunting small stuff. Skippies are one of the fastest fish in the sea but that doesn’t mean that what they eat is always dashing around at Mach 3. A shrimp caught in the tide isn’t going anywhere but with the flow, so keep this in mind for your retrieves. Fish hover or slow intermediate lines. If you’re casting around skippies and not getting bit immediately, keep scaling down, and keep going more subtle with your approach, e.g. fish slower, drift the fly rather than strip it, and especially try different presentation angles and adjust the direction from which you’re casting, etc. Natural materials, especially flies tied with natural coloured feathers that kick and breathe are often best. The usual suspects of sparse bucktail Clousers,

calf tail Charlies, Mud Charlies (Charlies with hackle tip kickers), Gotchas etc. all have their days (size 8 to size 2), as do traditional Cockroach tarpon flies (size 4 to 2/0) and suggestive shrimp patterns (glass shrimp to swimming prawn size - swimming prawns are cocaine to skippies). Many bonefish patterns make for good skippy flies. In low light conditions, and if the fish are chasing aggressively, big, chunkier flies like Finger Mullets, Whistlers, and Andinos and even surface chuggers/pushers/flippers will work (on the hardware side for example, skippies often love a walk-the-dog style presentation). The mistake I see made the most often with skippies is folks fishing a leader that’s too thin. It’s an unfortunate artefact of skippies’ jaw and face structure, but there are bits on their front anatomy that will quickly rub or cut through a light leader, which is complicated because the smaller flies they often like swim best with thinner leaders. I never use a leader thinner than 0.5mm when targeting skippies, it only leads to crying to Mommy when you hook and lose a big one. If you must go thinner, use the toughest flouro you can find. Skippies are very fragile creatures that easily beat themselves up, so handle them very quickly and delicately, preferably just slip the fly out with forceps and send them on their way, no Instagram posing required.

UNDERCURRENTS

TOO MUCH, TOO FAST, TOO SOON T H E M OT TO O F T H E O LY M P I C S I S ‘ FAST E R , H I G H E R , ST R O N G E R ’. V I N D I ES E L’ S I S ‘ FAST E R , M O R E FURIOUS…BOET’ (OR SO WE I M AG I N E ) . I F G U I D E , ST U H A R L E Y , H A D A M OT TO I T WO U L D P R O BA B LY B E , “ L ES S , S LO W E R , I SA I D S LO W E R .” H E R E ’ S W H Y. Photos. Stu Harley, Johann Vorster

fter a few competitive cold beers with fellow guide Greg Ghaui on the banks of a Tanzanian river some years ago, I had an epiphany. The initial catalyst for this thought came up earlier that day after watching my guest land yet another good-sized Brevis Tigerfish after he had made a surprisingly short cast, a surprisingly slow retrieve and (contrary to tiger norm), fought the fish on the reel and without a care in the world. In that moment it dawned on me that, as we improve our angling technical competencies and abilities, we may be fishing less intuitively and effectively. That may sound quite controversial but hear me out.

Too Much! As our fly-fishing expertise grows, we suddenly have the desire to cast a million miles. Quite often we cast directly over the fish that was unaware of our presence until we dumped 100 feet of line over its head. I say, ‘we’ because I have done the same. Think of how, when we are on the bank, we want to cast to the middle and beyond. And when we are on a boat, we suddenly want to cast as close to the shore as we possibly can. Too much moving, making too much noise, making too many rod angle changes, with a few too many ideas.

Don’t get me wrong. I truly believe that the more we observe, the more we learn and the better we fish and open ourselves to experiencing the beauty many fly fishing destinations offer. I also believe that one can do all this, ‘nice and slow’. Too much can also mean too many. Instead of focusing on a great fish count why not savour that one special fish? For this reason I talk to my clients about moving goalposts so that we can make it our aim to catch one special fish together and enjoy that special moment having taken the time to work on, catch and admire that fish. Too Fast! This one is easy and points straight to the possibility that we may be stripping too fast. I don’t say this like I’m a 400 year-old, waving my finger at you astride some high noble steed. Perhaps we think of predatory fish as mindless killers zooming around murdering everything as they go. In the case of giant trevally I have often seen where the fast strip might get the fish moving but, in all honesty, I believe it was where the fly landed that got the fish to take, rather than the speed of the strip. With GTs, even if you saw the fish come from two kilometres away and it stopped for coffee five times on its journey, you still wouldn’t have enough time to sort your shit out. More often than not, after a brief clusterfuck of some description, you hurriedly lob a four metre-high, out-swinging loop at the fish.

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Try to imagine being prepared as best as you possibly can be for that fish, having walked or stood with your fly ready to go, your line neatly organised for a good, well-placed cast, your drag set to adequately break his spirit on his first post-fly, murdering dash. Basically, by slowing down at the beginning, you have put yourself in a position to make the cast you’ve made a thousand times before, but when it matters the most … C.T.F.D (calm the fuck down)

“THE MORE WE OBSERVE, THE MORE WE LEARN AND THE BETTER WE FISH”

There has to be something to the fact that, over the years, many of the huge fish I have netted in Tanzania have been caught by clients who themselves were older, ‘wily old trout’. Although they were stripping as fast as they could and fighting the fish as hard as they could, this was generally ‘quite slow’. It was not that strong, but perhaps just the right speed for a fish that had eluded some of the world’s finest anglers. Generally, just in going too fast, wading too fast, walking too fast, tying knots too fast, they were missing, spooking or losing the very thing we are so feverishly looking for.

One of the greatest and most beautiful aspects of fly fishing (and fishing in general), is the element of exploration. There is not much new or undiscovered left in the natural world but nothing will lure you more effectively than that deep, instinctive desire to see what’s around the next bend in the river, or the next bay around the corner. Over the years, I have been very fortunate to be a part of explorations to new fishing waters across Africa and I have always had to remind myself to juggle the need to take in and see the whole place versus fishing it well to establish what the hell is in the water. No regrets! But I probably raced over plenty of fish-saturated water to see what was coming up next.

Too Soon This is most easily explained by using anchor fishing as an example. I always try telling my clients to imagine the area below the boat as a grid and to make sure their fly finds itself in every little box before I lower the boat another metre.

Having said all of this, I know it is true that we all fish for different reasons. Some fish to escape, some to be with friends, some to be alone … the list goes on, but whatever that ‘why’ may be, if you find yourself scratching for a fish on a slow day, maybe that’s the day to go slow.

HIGH FIVES

MARLIZE ‘BLOM’ HEYNS FROM THE FL ATS OF SUDAN TO THE RIVERS OF TANZANIA AND THE WORLD CHAMPS IN NORWAY, SOUTH AFRICA’S TOP-RANKED WOMEN’S ANGLER MARLIZE ‘BLOM’ HEYNS IS KICKING ASS AND TAKING NAMES. Photos. Marlize ’Blom’ Heyns

5 best things about where you fish? 1. The places we fish are so diverse and each place has its own method of madness. I guess that is what intrigues me the most. 2. The people I travel and fish with. What a bunch of mad, crazy peeps with never a dull moment. 3. Clear freshwater streams in the mountains and knowing they’re pristine. 4. Croc and hippo-infested rivers in Africa. There is always a sense of danger and adrenaline flowing at an all - time high. 5. Saltwater walking and stalking. Knowing that we are the only people in that area for miles and miles.

5 fishing connected items you don’t leave home without before making a mission? 1. “Fishing Crew” (they are as important to me as my fishing gear, with someone carrying the big JBL Boombox in tow). 2. Some currency and smokes in my pocket. 3. My lucky cap (blue, red and white Simms). 4. Proper polarized sunnies (Bajio or Costas). 5. A bottle of Moët. 5 thing you are loving right now? 1. Love my job as an executive Chef – creating food with my own twist. 2. Being home when I’m not on the water.

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Blom and a Sudanese triggerfish compare dentistry.

3. My two cats Yeti and Rafiki. 4. Pro-create app on my iPad. I can spend hours drawing on it. It keeps me out of trouble when I’m not fishing. 5. Prepping mentally and physically for Norway (the first ladies fly fishing world championships). 5 indispensable flies for saltwater? 1. Tan Alflexo/alphlexo crab for that lovable but infuriating trigger fish. 2. Golden knight (killer of a fly) for bone fish. The most fun to catch. 3. Any squid imitation. 4. Brush fly- Ferrari red for slaying the GTs on Astove. 5. Spawning shrimp.

5 indispensable flies for freshwater? 1. Blowtorch. 2. Carrot fly. 3. Very secret fly (Heh heh). 4. Brush fly. 5. Game Changer. 5 favourite fly-fishing destinations across Africa? 1. Bushman’s River. 2. Cape streams. 3. Tanzania. 4. Sudan (Red Sea). 5. Orange River.

“Squeeze those delts and gimme 10 reps!” Blom practices her lateral tiger raises with Dan Factor.

5 favourite fly-fishing destinations globally? 1. Astove Atoll, Seychelles. 2. Nubian flats. Sudan- Northeast Africa. 3. Tanzania – the Mnyera and Ruhudji Rivers. 4. New Zealand. 5. Okavango (not big fish but an unbelievable experience). 5 of the most difficult competition experiences so far? 1. Probably going into the Commonwealth Championships in New Zealand 2020, when Covid, the globe and everything was unknown. 2. Catching over twenty fish but not one got measured because of the size limit. 3. Losing all my fly boxes in the Diablo River in Canada after a big fall. What a f##$@@ck up. 4. Getting drenched in a very cold session can be very unpleasant, and I’ve had a few of those. 5. Doing so well in a comp for four sessions and then not catching a fish in the last session (ahhhh). 5 of the best things you have picked up from competition fishing? 1. Making a shitload of friends with the same competitive vibe and passion.

2. Working efficiently on the water. 3. Reading water and different situations and adapting accordingly 4. Not overcomplicating anything. 5. Shit happens - deal with it! Be creative. 5 of the worst things you have picked up from competitive fishing? 1. Still being competitive even if we are fishing in “down time”. 2. Being too hard on myself. 3. Sometimes my airtime runs out and the signal is lost. All English becomes Afrikaans. 4. Not appreciating the beautiful surroundings in these wonderful places while you are trying to beat people. 5. Forgetting to follow my process and just having a good laugh (game face). 5 flies to pack in smuggler kit to cover most species? 1. A variety of PTN Nymphs – yellows, trout, grayling. 2. Cdc elk hair caddis – yellows, trout, grayling, 3. Jig buggers – good all rounded pattern, from swinging to stripping. 4. Spawning Shrimp –various saltwater species. 5. Brush fly - GTs, tigers, blue fin trevally and big-ass trout.

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5 people you would like to fish with? 1. My mother. I will fish with her any day. 2. Captain Jack Sparrow - the version that never dies and always has rum on hand. 3. Bear Grylls. 4. Pablo, the mysterious man. Daniel Factor would say he is, ‘the Godfather of nymphing and dry fly fishing’. 5. Simone Sharman because she protects me from sharks while diving and fishing. 5 fish on your species hit list? 1. Golden Dorado, but with a sweet take in clear water. 2. Siberian Taimen, “The BEEEEEEEG ones”. 3. Permit – I always see them, but have never had a shot at one. 4. 100cm plus GT somewhere in the salt - hopefully it happens one day. 5. Sight fishing to big tarpon and not knowing what hit me after it takes off. 5 shower thoughts that have occurred while fly fishing? 1. That there is a Sasquatch watching me. 2. How unbelievably lucky I am! Blessed and cursed because tackle is so damn expensive. 3. How nature is one of the toughest things. Some days I will look at a shrub or tree and wonder WTF. How did it get there and what did it have to go through. 4. What is for dinner because I’m always hungry. 5. What mood is Mother Nature in today? I probably talk more to the wind than anything else. “Maar Hoekom?” (But why?). 5 underrated fish species? 1. Smallmouth yellows. 2. Needlefish because they are feisty and fun. 3. My goldfish because each one of them has their own personality. 4. Carp on fly. 5. Muddies, they are little tanks. 5 things outside of fishing that makes where you fish special? 1. The people and their cultures. 2. Traditional foods. 3. Scuba diving in the Red Sea an hour after catching a trigger fish. OMG it was unbelievable! 4. When walking on the salt flats and seeing and feeling the different tides from day to day. 5. The sunrise and sunset in Africa. 5 bucket list destinations? 1. South America – Golden Dorado. 2. Cameroon – Nile perch. 3. Farquhar Atoll. 4. Costa Rica - tarpon. 5. Providence Atoll.

“THERE IS A SASQUATCH WATCHING ME”

5 things you would take up if you weren’t always fly fishing? 1. Photography and videography because we see so many untouched places but don’t document them as we should. 2. Learning more about the things surrounding me, like plants and birdlife. I’m always too busy fishing and I’ve learned that I need to be a part of the experience and not just a passenger. 3. Write an adventurous cookbook involving earthly ingredients and my personal fishing experiences in collaboration with former guide, Brent Visagie. 4. Probably go crazy. 5. Anything to do with art. 5 things about fly fishing I might never understand 1. One is never enough. 2. Seeing any fish take a fly out there, releasing it and still not understanding how it continues to make us come back for more and more. 3. Was that luck or technique that made me catch that fish? 4. So grateful that everyone is not into fishing but also, why are they not into fishing? Because it is so sacred for me. 5. The wind is always blowing in the wrong direction.

5 essential ingredients for a mission 1. The people you are missioning with. 2. Good shampoo and conditioner. 3. Flip flops- there are thorns out there, people! 4. iPhone and sat phone (videos, pics and in case you are in big shit). 5. Ice (lots) and booze. 5 flies that makes no sense but work 1. Blob. 2. Mop fly. 3. Bung. 4. Spaghetti fly. 5. Fritz fly (Christmasy sparkle fly) Your last 5 last casts were to? 1. Brown trout while training for the 1st WLFFC (World Ladies Fly Fishing Championship) in Norway. 2. Bonefish – Astove. 3. GTs - Astove 4. Trout – at Dan Factor’s new trout farm in Johannesburg. 5. Triggers - Astove (favourite fish ever - so far).

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L ES OT H O

TERONKO I T ’ S NOT O FT E N YOU GET GIVEN THE “J OB” OF EXP LO RI NG RE M OTE VALLEYS TO FIND TROUT I N U NFI S HE D RI VERS. WHEN LUK E PA NNELL A ND FE LLOW G U IDE RUH AN K RU GER WENT TO LES OT HO, T HE Y FOUN D ALL THAT, PLUS MY THICAL WAT E R- BE ASTS , R UNAWAY DONKEYS, MIDN IGHT COWBOYS AND MORE. Photos. Luke Pannell, Ruhan Kruger

or as long as I can remember the outdoors have fascinated me. As a young boy my family would visit Nylsvley Nature Reserve (in Limpopo Province) whenever the opportunity presented itself. I remember sitting on my father’s lap while steering the car along the endless dirt roads as he controlled the pedals below my dangling feet. My siblings and I, a trio with nightmarish tendencies, would fight for turns behind the wheel or for the chance to sit on the roof of the old Nissan bakkie. Driving around the park, badgering each other incessantly, it’s a wonder we saw any animals at all. At times, the car would stop and the three of us would clamber out with our tiny bare feet, free at last from the cramped backseat and on the lookout for any animal that we could ‘hunt’ through the veld. Luckily for us, our enthusiasm far-outshone our stalking abilities. I think it was in those formative years that my affinity with adventure really started to develop. Guiding has given me a platform to search out those places that excite and frighten me, sometimes in equal measure. Although, as time goes on, we all become desensitised to our experiences. It takes just a little bit more risk, the chance of a slightly bigger fish or maybe even the thought of going somewhere less travelled, to really kindle that excitement. None of us is immune to this.

When the opportunity to spend some time exploring remote areas in the Lesotho Highlands on behalf of X-Factor Angling presented itself, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Having recently fished and guided throughout the Eastern Cape as well as Kwa-Zulu Natal, it felt like being so close - how different could it be? Regardless, the mandate was simple - find an unheard of river with the potential for big fish that logistically has the possibility of turning into a product for the company. As with anything good, it does not come easily and so, once briefed, I started the process of sifting through the less mentioned river systems in Lesotho. A week later I stumbled across an old blog post, written by a hiker almost ten years back, in which he detailed his encounters with big brown trout in a lesser-known area of the country. His account made me hold my breath briefly. He spoke about how difficult it was to reach the river and how he had been told that no other fly fisherman had passed through the village at the base of the gorge. This was it. Or was it? Doubt started to creep in. Deliberately, he had not named the river or, for that matter, given any names at all of the surrounding areas. Google Earth, the blog (with some nondescript photos) and a map of the different river systems

in that area of the country were superimposed on each other and carefully analysed. Finally, I narrowed it down to two rivers. With winter fast approaching, time was of the essence. The prospect of hiking high into a mountain range, with limited supplies, when temperatures were already expected to drop below minus six degrees Celsius, meant that the sooner we got there the better. The following week, myself and Ruhan left Jo’burg and set off for the border. The idea was to drive to the highest point possible before loading up our packs and pushing, ideally with the help of a donkey, past any villages and into a valley leading to the source of the first river. We would spend three nights there, working our way up the river, before hiking back out and driving another six hours to the next river where we would repeat the process. There were a lot of unknowns. Would the chief allow us to explore the area? Was there even a chief to speak of? How far could two guides, armed with five packs of two-minute noodles, a bag of rice and a tent, make it up the valley? It was time to answer all these questions. When entering Lesotho from the north the one thing that is abundantly clear at the border is that you are travelling upwards. Small hills quickly expand into larger and more ominous shapes. Before you know it, you are zig-zagging up the side of a never-ending mountain pass (Ru and I both questioned how anyone could build a functional road in such a perilous position). By 10 o’clock we had summited the tallest of these passes. Worryingly, the clear skies and bright sun had done little to melt the ice scattered across the escarpment. We drove for another few hours, our only pit-stop being at a bridge above a glacial stream with blue water. We managed to spot and catch a small trout from the bridge before jumping back in the car and pushing on to the first river. We were now even more excited than before. Arriving at the village was as bemusing as it was exhilarating. Between us we could barely mime our way through filling the car up, the language barrier being one of the worst I have ever experienced. Somehow though, we managed to locate the house of the head chief and were quickly informed that he was away. We were introduced to his wife. She, along with the small crowd gathering, was confused as to why we were there, what we wanted to do up in their valley and, most importantly, whether or not we knew what we were getting ourselves into. We smiled and assured her as best we could that we would be fine, our tent and tiny sleeping bags doing little to comfort her. Warnings of rogue cowboys, dangerous snakes and ice on the river did little to deter us. In any case, after sharing pleasantries and receiving her blessing, along with the promise that her son, Paul, would join us later in our journey, we set off to start our first exploration.

“WARNINGS OF ROGUE COWBOYS, DANGEROUS SNAKES AND ICE ON THE RIVER DID LITTLE TO DETER US.” 38

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After our first afternoon’s hike it was abundantly clear that without a donkey we would never cover enough ground with our tight schedule. Debello, after thawing his toes out against the heat of the fire, agreed to meet us higher up the valley that afternoon with his own donkey, Anna. Ru and I decided to explore just below our camp in a very steep area of the gorge. What we found was a succession of massive pools, some so deep we couldn’t see the bottom. We were later told that the deepest of the pools, referred to as ‘Teronko’ (Sesotho for jail), held a water beast with malicious intent. Some villagers had even drowned in the pool and now no-one dared to fish near it. After observing ‘Teronko’ for a short while, Ru spotted movement. A really big shadow crept along the bottom. Slowly it took shape and we cast our eyes on a massive fish, easily over 60cm, lazily moving side to side eating nymphs in the current. I decided to watch from above while Ru made his way down the 40-metre cliff face and into a position that allowed him to present a fly. I watched as he hooked and broke off the same monster twice in the space of five minutes. Unfortunately, 5X tippet just was not going to cut it and the aggression the fish showed when it ate for the second time made it clear that it had no concept of being hooked. We regrouped at our bags and laughed at the sheer insanity of what had just happened. Having heard the tales of Teronko gave us comfort. We knew that this was no ordinary fish but rather a water beast.

It was now 3 o’clock and the light was dimming in the valley. Knowing that the hike would be difficult and as we were anxious not to be left walking in the dark, we rushed to start. A young Basotho boy, Debello, was introduced to us as we were about to leave the village. He had been asked to show us the best route into the valley and proceeded to set an unimaginable pace along a small goat path. Both Ru and I had overestimated our fitness at such high altitude, my Garmin satellite phone read 2630m above sea level, and the 18kg of weight we each had strapped to our backs (and fronts) made the going slow. Debello pushed us to speed up as he still needed to hike back out of the valley before it became dangerous. When we finally reached our camp for the night, a suitably flat beach, it was almost dark. Debello quickly turned around and started his return leg. We watched him disappear over the looming mountain we had just descended, only for him to reappear half an hour later. Ru and I stood silently as he explained that it was no longer safe to walk home and that he, with nothing more than a thin blanket and collared shirt for warmth, would be staying the night, but not in our tent! When I broke the ice on the fly sheet’s zip the following morning a part of me was scared to look in the direction of Debello’s fire.

The following two days were spent ‘cherry-picking’ the best spots we came across while working our way up the river. Every kilometre we covered the river became smaller and the fish became more concentrated in pools. It was pointless trying to count them, there simply were too many to keep track of. Once reunited with Debello, and now Anna, we were able to work huge amounts of water each day and by the time Paul, the chief’s son, joined us, we were some 30km from the village. Our last night on the river was spent around a fire, exhausted and sore but above all consciously spoiled. Our plan for the morning was to wake up early, load Anna with the bags and rush back to the car, hoping to make it to the second valley before sunset.

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Upon waking Ru and I swiftly made coffee and packed up camp. We first noticed something was amiss when Debello disappeared, walking off into the distance and in the opposite direction to the car. Paul reassured us that he was just fetching Anna. Thus, Ru and I chose to run down-river to a pool we had seen several big fish holding in the day before. When Paul and Debello caught up to us an hour later, carrying our backpacks, it was clear Anna wouldn’t be around to help. Now, some 30km from the village and without a donkey, we realised the task ahead of us. Rods were packed away and the long trek began. Reaching the car around midday, at least two hours behind schedule, meant there was no way we could complete the six-hour, 4x4 route ahead of us before dark! We gratefully accepted when Paul kindly offered us one of his family’s rondavels in the village that night. The ceiling of the rondavel, stained black by the countless fires that had kept it warm over the years, had a rich woody smell to it. That night we slept like kings. The next morning, we watched the valley shrink in the rear-view mirror as we started our journey to the adjacent valley. Expecting the road to be degraded did little to prepare us for the last six kilometres of our drive, which took close to an hour to navigate. It was clear no cars had driven there in weeks, maybe longer. This was confirmed by the shocked faces on those who watched us as we reached the village. Again, we sought out the chief and were granted permission to fish and to explore the valley. There was a different feeling to the valley though. Faces were less friendly and an air of suspicion followed us as we packed our bags and negotiated the use of a donkey. Cross-border stock theft has people jumpy around these parts. Molata, our new Lesotho Hilux (aka donkey), was old and weathered. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor animal as three bags were strapped across her back. On the advice of our guide, and influenced by our experience of the first day’s hike, we decided to camp just below the village that night. The easy hike into the valley drew a lot of attention as we walked past groups of people. By the time we had settled on a suitable camping spot, a group of curious children had congregated on the rocky outcrop above us. They laughed, even screaming with excitement, as we unpacked and assembled our tent. One of the boys exclaimed in shock “It’s a house!”. You couldn’t help but smile as they slowly grew in confidence and began teasing us from the cliffs. That evening they accompanied me up-river, Ru deciding to stay closer to camp to watch our belongings. Quite obviously, they had never seen someone fly fish, let alone release a fish that they had landed. Angry shouts rang out as I put back a fish just over 40cm. I reassured them that I would give them

some fish and proceeded to gift them three thereafter, slightly worried of the repercussions had I not. As the light started to dim in the valley the children started to skip their way up the mountainside, back to the village, with fish in hand. I returned to camp with a fish of my own and two cobs of corn which one of the boys had generously given me in exchange for the fish. A warm fire, a hot cup of coffee and our Lesotho dinner was the perfect way to end our day. By nine o’clock the cold had set in, our lightweight tent doing little to insulate us. We struggled to fall asleep as we shivered. Shouting in the distance cut through the cold air. A few seconds passed and the noise drew nearer. Realising the voices were making a beeline for us, we quickly pulled on some clothes and stepped out of the tent. As our eyes adjusted to the darkness we made out three horsemen, now halfway across the river, riding directly towards us. Loud Basotho shouts and raised sjamboks cut through the air as the cowboys surrounded us. Our nerves were past the edge, they were plummeting off the cliff and adrenaline was coursing through my veins. The language barrier making the stand-off even more frightening. After a few minutes of broken communication, which felt like an interrogation, I decided to mention the fish we had gifted to the children. I still don’t know whether the leader of the group understood what I said or coincidentally lost interest at that point, but they suddenly smiled and turned their horses around, disappearing again into the black.

“BY NINE O’CLOCK THE COLD HAD SET IN, OUR LIGHTWEIGHT TENT DOING LITTLE TO INSULATE US.” W W W. T H E M I S S I O N F LY M A G . C O M

When they ran out of gas, Luke and Ruhan ate trout and boiled water in an old soda can.

The following morning, still shaken from our visit the night before, we packed up camp and decided to push as high above the village as possible, hoping to avoid any other confrontation. After hiking for about two hours, we came across a deep pool with trees lining its banks. On the bottom of the pool we counted over forty fish, countless of which were trophy-sized. What followed was some of the most insane nymphing I have ever experienced. Ru and I took turns, one with the rod and the other the camera, and proceeded to land close to 25 fish in the space of an hour. The biggest of the trip came to hand there, a stunning fish, thick and unbelievably strong. The fishing over the next two days continued in a similar vein, with each pool holding large numbers of fish, with the average well over 30cm. What we had found can only be described as trout nirvana and the trout bum in me had never been happier. The morning of our final day greeted us with an unwelcome surprise. Our gas had run out. Continuously boiling water, for all the coffee and oats, had caught us out and we now faced four meals without any suitable pots or a kettle to speak of. Ru, ever the innovator, scratched around in our rubbish bag and pulled out an empty cream-soda can from two days prior. Luckily it hadn’t been stomped on. Two boulders and a branch from a river willow and our make-shift kettle was complete. Tea, coffee, instant oats and noodles were all back on the cards. Noodles,

supplemented with a fresh fish, was dinner that evening and made us realise just how unnecessary much of what we had packed was. When we finally caught our last fish, boiled our last tin of tea and loaded the now relatively light bags onto Molata, a mixture of frustration and sadness descended. It was clear from what we had experienced over the past week that we had stumbled onto something special. The fishing was the best either of us had ever seen, both in size and in numbers. The fact that the brown trout had somehow eluded us was immaterial. It was, however, equally obvious that it would be no small feat to run an operation up in these valleys. Whether it was the treacherous rocky passes, which would claim a tyre on our drive out, the physical distance from anything, the mountain cowboys or the fact that there was no infrastructure to speak of, these valleys were a world apart from what we knew. Unsure whether either of us would see those rivers again anytime soon, (if ever), we packed the car in silence and started our slow crawl out of the valley. It wasn’t long before gratitude replaced the despair. Ru and I started to recall events from the week, laughing incessantly in a mixture of disbelief and satisfaction. At the first bridge we came across we stopped the car, clambering out with bare feet and staring into the water, hoping to see just one more fish that we might hunt…

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C O LU M B I A

WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE F R O M E N R O L L I N G AT PAVO N CA M P U S , TO S I G N I N G U P FO R B I C U DA 1 0 1 A N D G R A D UAT I N G I N A DVA N C E D PAYA R A , L U K E B A R R E L L V I S I T E D T H E O R I N O C O R I V E R I N C O LO M B I A TO G E T A N E D U CAT I O N . Photos. Luke Barrell

a ham and cheese sandwich later, we arrived at the banks of the Orinoco. Expectations can be a dangerous thing when it comes to fishing. Yet, from the second I saw this river (dense jungle in every direction, wild parrots flying overhead), it all felt almost too good to be true. But it wasn’t. We had made it to the jungle at last.

t’s been difficult coming back to reality the last few weeks. My current home is in Northampton (UK) and, while I have been visiting my local reservoir on weekends and the early signs of summer are starting to show, a part of me is still stuck on the mighty Orinoco River in Colombia. My trip with Alberto Mejia’s Fish Colombia Expeditions had originally been scheduled for April 2020 but then the pandemic happened. With some glimmering hopes for pre-corona normality in 2021 and my jungles flies watching me every time I grabbed my fishing kit, I was hopeful the trip would happen. Unfortunately, the Delta variant had other ideas last year and the infamous joys of red-listed countries kicked in. With the arrival of 2022, I was hoping it would be third time lucky. The problem with a three-year wait is that every year you find yourself overthinking all the items you might need for the jungle (except perhaps something needed for a sting ray attack… but I’ll get to that). By go-time I had enough lines, leaders, wire and flies to stock a small fishing shop for a month. I find something truly special about large rivers and Orinoco was no different. After traveling from a lively Bogota the day before, we were picked up first thing at the small river town of Puerto Carreño by a man only identified as the ‘Spanish Machine’. Something about the worn 4x4 and the dusted-up Dakar sticker on the back told me we were in for a good time. As it turns out, the Spanish Machine takes his Dakar sticker very seriously and proceeded to get us to camp at record speed. Two boat crossings, some entertaining roads, hairy rock climbs and

Payara (Hydrolycus scomberoides), AKA the vampire fish, have been on my hit list since I learnt about their existence. I spend much of my free time in the UK chasing pike and so dealing with unpredictable toothy creatures is right up my alley. Unfortunately for me, pike and payara could not be more different in their approach. Pike enjoy still or slow flowing water where they carefully ambush prey and payara… well they don’t do that. 500 grain sinking lines in Class IV rapids is the name of the game. So big flies with integrated rattles and stinger hooks were the plan. It was only after a couple of days trying to chase some smaller peacocks on my 7-weight with a small black brush fly that I realised many schools of payara had made their way up into some of the smaller, clearer tributaries. Now I wouldn’t recommend a 7-weight for these fish – not unless you enjoy line burn and cursing the gods in false disbelief that you’ve just lost a trophy jungle predator. A small pinnacle made up of eroding volcanic rock divided a section of the Rio Tomo and made for a popular warmup location. Surrounded with strong and aggressive young peacocks, this spot was just what you needed to find the gear from the day before and get dialled in again. However, that morning something was off. Takes were far out and nippy. There were no last minute dineand-dashes back to the caves these smaller fish like to sit in. Admittedly, I knew this meant one of two things: either we had just worked that area too hard the day before or, something bigger was lurking. I decided to ditch the flashy fly I had on and opted for a smaller black brush fly. I was slowly pulling the fly back no more than 10ft from me so I could see how it swam with the outrageous leader I had attached to it, when, unexpectedly, an absolute unit of a payara hit it. This fish, which dwarfed the 15 pounder I had caught on a 12-weight a few days prior, came up and sipped the brush fly as if it was a brown taking a dry on a slow evening rise. In total disbelief, I still managed to get a decent strip set and a confirmation from the guide who had also seen it and confirmed that I wasn’t just going delirious in the jungle heat. Off the bat I knew this was a losing battle. I was basically straight sticking this fish for fear of executing my 7-weight on the spot. Payara, much

“DEALING WITH UNPREDICTABLE TOOTHY CREATURES IS RIGHT UP MY ALLEY. UNFORTUNATELY, PIKE AND PAYARA COULD NOT BE MORE DIFFERENT.” 52

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like tigers, have incredibly bony jaws as well as family ties to the Cirque du Soleil aerobatics academy so, naturally, hook set and retention is a nightmare. Having no capacity to dictate anything to this fish and having already done a few laps around the tiny island, it threw the hook. I adjusted to a more appropriate set-up and proceeded to have my most successful session for the fanged fish. The volcanic pinnacle was renamed, ‘Payara Island’.

THROUGHOUT THE WEEK THIS PIECE OF PARADISE, HIDDEN AWAY FROM THE WORLD, BEGAN IDENTIFYING SOME KEY AREAS AND MUCH LIKE ‘PAYARA ISLAND’ THEY TOO WERE APPROPRIATELY NICKNAMED. ‘PEACOCK CITY’, ‘PAVON CAMPUS’ & ‘BICUDA ALLEY’. EACH COMES ATTACHED WITH A VIVID MEMORY. Peacock City is a deep section with huge perfectly-sanded boulders protruding from the depth below. No babies here… 9-10-weight set-ups only. The closer you moved to the bank the more the boulders formed together and created neat fishable sections. There was no other way to do it than bouncing double barrel poppers off these boulders and into the danger zones. Pop and wait. Pop and wait. Pop and boom! The awesome power of peacocks is mind-blowing. Powerful runs, dives, jumps and their tendency to try get under any structure made these battles tight and you had to slowly navigate the fight back through the boulders until you had them at your feet. These epic fights taught me a lot about fighting big fish in tight sections. Losing the big boys at your feet through sloppy errors or lack of patience certainly helps ingrain those lessons. It also made the big ones that much sweeter.

Above and right, Luke with a muster of peacocks (the official collective noun we will have you know).

These large hunting grounds were home to several members of the peacock family but also many other hunters. I really enjoyed watching these healthy ecosystems. Having grown up in a household with major twitchers (birders) as parents, I’ve been fortunate to visit a few over the years but the density of life in the Amazon was a new level for me. Large groups of osprey and fly-attacking kingfishers had also come to realise the bounty of baitfish that ‘Peacock City’ holds. Further upriver we found a nice stretch of bank riddled with rock points and structure. It was appropriately named ‘Pavon Campus’, given its tendency to hold numerous young adult fish who were far too eager to prove their point and perhaps not as wise as their more senior counterparts. These fish weren’t the only over-confident youngsters in the area and I was ready to meet their egos halfway. An area with loads of dead branches or the ‘sticks’ was just the place for this match up. I would wait patiently until the cohort of peacocks came cruising past, crushing anything in their way. I’d launch the fly into the sticks and prepare myself for the chaotic fight to follow. Playing tug of war with these brutes and keeping them from charging

back into the structure was a rush. I’m not sure where the need to push one’s kit to the absolute limit comes from, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t try that more often than not. ‘Pavon Campus’ is also the location I spent the most time watching the wild in action, something I always try and do. The shallow-water coves created by the rock structures meant 100% visibility. Taking a moment to witness these incredible fish going about their day in an environment totally unhindered by the outside world, is something that gives my soul peace. These moments of sitting and observing are totally underrated. Sitting still in a busy jungle was freeing. Suddenly, the evidence of secret lives began to reveal themselves: the thriving baby caiman sitting in a slow current; an Amazonian dolphin; the various types, colours and sizes of the small fish species popping in and around your feet. While the size of these creatures can’t be compared to the creatures found in the African bush, the wonder certainly can and these brief moments of bliss are memories I’ll cherish.

“AS THE FISH APPROACHES STRUCTURE, THE 60LB FLUORO DOESN’T FEEL AS STRONG AS YOU THOUGHT” 56

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“AT PAYARA ISLAND, A SMALL PINNACLE MADE UP OF ERODING VOLCANIC ROCK DIVIDED A SECTION OF THE RIO TOMO. HERE, AN ABSOLUTE UNIT OF A PAYARA CAME UP AND SIPPED THE BRUSH FLY AS IF IT WAS A BROWN TAKING A DRY ON A SLOW EVENING RISE. “

There are some memories from this trip however, that weren’t as peaceful. ‘Bicuda Alley’ springs to mind. Trying to explore new waters each day (aside from a few repeats), I only fished this location twice. Of all the bycatch species in the Amazon, the one on top of my list was the bicuda. This fish adopts that torpedo shape found in pike and barracuda, and I wanted nothing more than to land one of them. Unfortunately for us fisherman, we don’t always get to dictate what and when we catch. So, although I was holding my breath, there was no guarantee. We pulled up to this spot and tentatively agreed to try it. It has large slate rocks that channelled the water over a shallow rock bed and had a nice deep drop-off either side… perfect for any predator. I just wasn’t sure which one. I kept seeing flashes behind my fly, the silver indicated it was likely to be a payara so I switched off the thick fluoro and opted for a wirebite leader and the flashes continued. It was a decent size so I was wondering what the hesitancy was to eat my fly. I downsized to a large white clouser with masses of flash on it and this ended up being the answer. From the start this fight was different; sharp and erratic runs. It was only when the fish leaped a good metre into the air that I saw the illusive bicuda I had been hoping for. It gave a solid fight and looked to be done when I made a reach for the leader. However, my movement seemed to turn the lights on and after a decent second half performance from the bicuda I took the L. Now before I took this trip and during the aforementioned delays, I tried to do as much research as possible on the various fish I would be chasing. An easy task for peacocks, but for the lesser-known jungle predators of which there are many, information on fish behaviour, tactics, patterns etc was rare. Bicuda were no different. This made targeting them specifically very difficult. The best bet was to revisit the location again. I figured ‘Bicuda Alley’ would be a fitting place to spend my last few hours in this almighty rainforest. Perhaps there would be a last dance with one of these illusive predators before my trip came to an end. Perspective is a difficult thing to find when you’ve just spent eight days in paradise but, no sooner had I finished stripping out my line, when a sharp reminder came that we were not in fact in paradise but in a wild tropical jungle. Hearing our guide John scream, ‘Raya!!’ we turned around to see him lift his foot to show a nasty wound left by a freshwater ray. A quick commotion followed next as my uncle and I got John to the boat, cleaned the wound, and wrapped it with our basic first aid kit. Rays have infamously painful venom that is also an anticoagulant. We were three hours up a complex river, had no pain killers, no comms, and a limited supply of bandages. Things looked dire. My uncle, having done white-water raft guiding, took control of the engine. John wore his wound like a champion. The pain

must have been immense, and the bleeding continued on and off as I attempted to get it under control. Despite all of this, John still managed to point out the lines my uncle needed to take down the river and to keep focused. Upon returning to the camp, he was taken into safe hands and treated appropriately, but in for a long night nonetheless. (John made a full recovery after a few days’ rest.) It was a stern reminder that you are at the whim of Mother Nature and not to underestimate the dangers in God’s house. But wow, what this home had to offer. Aside from a few favoured spots, days were spent discovering new stretches, as well as the infamous lagoons found throughout the Orinoco basin. These quiet lagoons tended to hold the ‘Grande Pavons’ (giant peacock bass) and peacocks here were far fewer in exchange for higher quality fish. The horseshoe-shaped lagoon we fished sometime in the midweek had a very thin, dense left arm and looked fishy. I managed to get my streamer in fairly tight to this area and gave the intermediate line a few seconds to get down. Strip, strip and then something was there. It was if I had just accidentally got stuck on a log at the bottom. There was complete hard static for a good few seconds. I turned to my uncle and said, “I’ve just stuck a damn log”. Suddenly this log woke up with some brutal head shakes, a few unstoppable runs and then slowly towed the boat in circles. This is when the 60lb fluoro doesn’t feel as strong as you thought, especially as the fish approaches some structure. Fortunately, the log tired before that and I could get it over the line, a solid double. As the dry season was just about to end, these lagoons were very low. This made for some mega sight fishing. The concentration of bait fish also made for some interesting displays when, out of nowhere, a small fish would hotfoot it across the entire lagoon, with a bowling ball of a peacock in pursuit. These sorts of distractions are welcomed after a quiet spell, in humid 38-degree heat. This mission was certainly not for the faint-hearted. The heat in combination with the heavy set-ups and wildness of the area was a test of character but, for those seeking the raw wild and a challenge along the way, the NorthEast corner of Colombia is for you although, for how much longer I am not sure. The Colombian Supreme Court has recently ruled to ban recreational fishing from June 2023 on the grounds of sport fishing being unconstitutional given that one is causing harm to the fish for the purpose of fun. After having seen various jungle predators destroy fly after fly, I’m not so sure ‘harm’ is the right word. Given the strict catch and release protocols, as well as taking general responsibility when handling any fish you intend to return, I generally see controlled recreational fishing as a significant contributor to sustaining valuable ecosystems, especially those in desperate need of protection. But who am I to say?

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“FOR THOSE SEEKING THE RAW WILD AND A CHALLENGE ALONG THE WAY, THE NORTH-EAST CORNER OF COLOMBIA IS FOR YOU”

OMAN

THE BAPTISM J O S H C O L L I N S , A C A N A D I A N L I V I N G I N Q ATA R , D I D N O T H O L D M U C H H O P E F O R F LY F I S H I N G W H E N H E M O V E D T O D O H A . T H E N H E F E L L I N W I T H F R E D D AV I S AND TIM OLSEN AND WENT ON A TRIP TO OMAN IN S E A R C H O F H I S F I R S T P E R M I T. Photos. Fred Davis Josh Collins & Tim Olsen

year ago, the Middle East was a distant land of camels, hijabs and shawarma. It was a place where my girlfriend went to teach at an international school, where I was going to join her, sadly leaving behind me the lush green valleys of Western Canada with their lakes and streams, salmonoids and char. I packed a fly rod and a mess of tying materials with a smidgen of hope. I mean, what fishing could I really expect to find in the Middle East? Little did I know that I’d find myself on a desert-lined beach waving my rod at a tailing permit, and that it would be completely surreal.

where I’d fish. Now I’d been introduced to a whole new side of fly fishing, and a new fire burned inside me.

In hindsight, committing to a fishing trip to Oman was a trip in itself. I barely slept in the weeks building up to it and more than once I found myself doubting whether it was actually going to happen. Even after flights were booked, there was this eerie feeling that something would go wrong. And when that damned dude at the airport disappeared into the bowels of Hamad International with our visas and some story about mismatched professions, I felt an empty hollow churning through my guts.

Crabs, crabs, crabs! I needed crabs. The fly tying before the trip was an onerous mission. I already had a box full of saltwater flies, but mostly baitfish patterns. There were Crazy Charlies and the likes that I had tied when I first arrived in the Arabian Gulf. With limited materials and a realisation that proportions and action were everything, it was a steep learning curve. Permit possess these huge round baby doll eyes that seem supernatural. Would any self-respecting permit eat my measly scraped-together flies, especially when my first flexos kept flipping upside down? But after some late-night tying sessions, with much needed beer, along with advice and some materials from Fred and Tim, I eventually got them to a point that, hopefully, something would eat. I was stoked now and I spent every evening only half-listening to my very understanding better half, while churning out versions of the flexo, that I prayed would catch those big round baby doll permit eyes.

I’ve never done this before… climbing on a plane with the sole intention of targeting a single species of fish. Yes, they eventually let us board, thanks to some serious hustling at the airport by my fishing buddy Fred Davis. Hell, I’ve never even travelled specifically for fishing before, and now I had been (very easily) talked into chasing the holy grail. Until I got to Qatar, I’d never considered the ocean as a place

More than ten years of fishing in Western Canada barely prepared me for salt, but I took to it like a dog to a fresh bone and, in a few short months, caught fish I could not have dreamed up. Having listened to the beer-fuelled stories about sickle-finned swine and thousands of ignored presentations, I quickly learnt that the permit was THE fish to catch… the heartbreaker, the Phoebe Cates, pure saltwater fly junkie crack. Although I had yet to taste that permit goodness, the stories I’d heard and read in the buildup lit the fire that drives any junkie to find their next fix.

“PERMIT THE FISH TO CATCH… THE HEARTBREAKER, THE PHOEBE CATES, PURE SALTWATER FLY JUNKIE CRACK.” 62

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“I FROZE THAT MOMENT FELT LIKE AN ETERNITY UNTIL IT SANK IN THAT THIS WAS ACTUALLY A PERMIT. TAILING. WITHIN CASTING DISTANCE. OH SHIT!”

After finally touching down in Oman, I immediately felt lighter on my feet. All of that worry and doubt about getting there had vanished, leaving excitement and anticipation in its wake. After a quick hustle through the shops for groceries, some interesting packing (three guys with all their fishing and camping gear in a Cruiser was probably a push) and we were off. Our first stop, a beach nestled between two headlands, looked lush. The confidence killer were thousands of commercial fishing nets that seemed to smear the ocean to the horizon. As we explored the coast from Salalah to Minji, bay after bay was littered with the marker buoys of lobster nets. It gives you a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach seeing all of that. They’re aqua death traps for anything that swims, and you can’t help but think of the bi-catch. Such an archaic and miserable way to catch lobster. It took us a couple of days to get to the spot where Fred, our South African veteran, had lost a big permit on his first trip to Oman way back in 2015. Once on the water, it wasn’t long before he and the Aussie, Tim, who has fished for permit in Belize and at home, had both reported their first sightings of tailing permit. We split up and I took up

the slow steady stare, step, stare rhythm that soon became my sight fishing tempo. Back at the car, hours later, Fred recounted how a fish had surfed up almost onto the beach to eat his crab. He’d had the first eat of the trip only to have the hook pull, well into the fight. The heartbreak dripped off his words. He seemed physically hurt by this loss. Me? I’d seen nothing. Sitting quietly, legs surprisingly sore, it sank in just how hard these fish are to catch and I found myself wondering if I’d bitten off more than I could chew. Then I saw the silent, swirling swish of the double sickle of a tail cut the fading whitewash just before being engulfed by another wave. It’s a scene that’s engraved in my mind now. I froze - that moment felt like an eternity - until it sank in that this was actually a permit. Tailing. Within casting distance. Oh shit! As it fed harder, the subtle black and yellow accents of those elongated dorsal and anal fins danced between the wash of the shore break. Then the adrenaline kicked in. My heart thumped a heavy tattoo against my ribcage. I started to shake. Complete weakness in the knees. And all I could think was, “How the hell am I going to cast straight?”

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Creeping into the water, the opportunity to cast seemed to elude me, until, there was a lull between waves. I took too long. One too many false casts. Too much focus on a perfect presentation. As the next wave rolled in, the fish weightlessly lifted and I found myself looking it straight in the eye, those baby doll eyes magnified through a crystal-clear window of the wave face. A pause. A swirl. Then white water. It was all over. Fish gone. I stood there staring, hoping, but I knew it was gone. The adrenaline hung around and my heart took forever to slow down. At least I knew then what I was looking for.

There were other fish to be caught too. We needed to break the prolonged intensity of stalking permit so we fished rocky outcrops, gullies and gutters on the beach for triggerfish, pompano and bream. Fish were scarce and I have no doubt that the environmental cluster of thousands of kilometres of nets just offshore was not helping. But we did manage a few live ones between the numerous washed up, eye-plucked corpses that we walked past. They always seemed like fish I’d love to catch. The Omani coastline is awe inspiring. Even if I never manage to return it will be etched into my memories for life.

Over the following days, I sighted fish. Cruising, waving their tails, disappearing at speed. Each time played out entirely differently from the last. There’s no consistency to these damn fish! My frustration grew. I found myself forcing casts and muttering curses. One fish would give me multiple chances to present a fly, completely oblivious to my presence, while the next was gone before I’d lifted a rod to cast. And the real bastards are the ones that seemed to have a sniff but turned their noses up at my meagre offerings. All this simply left me wanting more, every time.

Watching Fred take the first permit of the trip was a pivotal moment. I had taken the day off to nurse my feet; cut to bits and infected from a foray across the mussels chasing a pod of Africanus. At the last light of the day in the full push of the tide, while I sat watching the blacktips cruise the backline, I saw him cast, wait and then tighten up. The bow in his rod was deep. Then I heard that yell of frustration that only comes with the loss of a good fish. Interest piqued, I hobbled across to where he and Tim were waiting like herons. He was soon casting at another tailing fish and quickly managed to feed it too.

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“WE NEEDED TO BREAK THE PROLONGED INTENSITY OF STALKING PERMIT SO WE FISHED ROCKY OUTCROPS, GULLIES AND GUTTERS ON THE BEACH FOR TRIGGERFISH, POMPANO AND BREAM.”

The fish took off, faster and harder than I expected. Suddenly he took off after the fish, running after it and making a massive commotion in the water. What the hell was happening here? Then it dawned on me: a shark must come looking for snack. Damn. South Africans running towards sharks! The first Indo-pacific permit of the trip felt like a success for the whole team but now Tim and I needed to step up our game and get one. We celebrated that night at a local Omani restaurant. The burgers Tim and I ordered looked nothing like what was pictured on the menu. Fail. Fred, seasoned traveller in these backwaters, scored again with ‘khubz ragag’ (Omani bread) and fried chicken. Gins at camp and a good night’s sleep followed. I thought it would be a good thing to hang back, and watch Fred. The guy is knowledgeable on the water, purposeful and exact in his approach. Like a young pup, I paid attention to how slow and calculated he was as he approached a tailing fish. The angles he cast from, his timing with the waves, and that line management were flawless. There is so much more to deal with than just agonising over fly selection. But line control… turns out that was key. It wasn’t until he watched me present to a tailing fish, that I really got what I needed. The fish kept tailing for what seemed like ages in a trough off the beach. I kept my composure and presented my fly. Again. And again. Multiple times. And then “Eat! That was an eat!” Fred watched that fish eat and spit my fly out. And I was oblivious! He then, in that straightforward manner, told me to sort my shit out. “There is no way you’ll feel an eat with that ugly bow of slack in your line, you’re not drag free drifting for trout here!” he told me. It felt a bit like my first day of fly fishing all over again, but it was exactly what I needed, a bit of a saltwater fly-fishing epiphany and one that will change how I fly fish for the rest of my days. He may have told me how I had fucked it up, but he also gave me the keys to fix it. A true teacher. As the tide pulled out, we relaxed and had G&Ts in the heat of the shade. It was hotter than hell. I don’t think I said a word the entire time. Reflecting on my failure, my ego hurt. It felt like I’d blown my chances of getting a permit. I had remained so hopeful. And everything else was lining up perfectly: tailing permit for days, not to mention the constant millpond conditions. To be fair, we all, at some point, wished out loud for a breeze to roughen up the surface and cut the heat a little. But time was ticking and that monkey was climbing up my back. Pressures

reminiscent of my bass tournament fishing past swirled in my head. But it takes only one bite to change your day. I just needed to call on all of my big fish juju. After those G&Ts, I ventured off down the beach. Entering a sort of meditative state, visualising the next cast and the eat that would come. Hope is a powerful thing and it had me buzzing. And then I was staring straight at two permit tails catching the late afternoon sun. I cast to the closer one, focussed on that first strip, straightening out the line. A tail went up right where I’m sure my fly was. And then that heavy weight, unmistakable, of a fish. Disbelief followed the strip set; the pure power of that fish as it took off. Time blurred into the back and forth fight. Win some line. Lose some line. And then nothing. I pointlessly stripped some line and lifted my rod tip high. I was almost in tears. All the preparation, days of aches and pains, only to end like this. If it took me that long to hook one, how was I to manage another? I had to dig deep. “I am here now, and I won’t be this time tomorrow. Pick it up, and keep going”. Not twenty minutes later, I spotted another tail waving in that soft afternoon light. Two casts, wait and a tail went up. Another eat. I was on again! This time I took some deep breaths and let my instinct and years of fishing experience take the wheel. After a solid fight came a sigh of relief as my hand grasped the tail of my first Omani permit. Fred had spoken about the addiction these fish generate. Cradling that fish, taking in every detail of its dreadful beauty, I understood. And I wanted more. I slowly started making my way back up the beach towards Tim in the distance. Two more fish made an appearance between waves. A second? Surely not. A moment of Zen came over me, my cast was a little long and I had to strip the flexo back into their feeding zone. But the pressure was off, I was enjoying this moment. The turn was clear as the big permit inhaled my fly. I saw it all. I drank it in. I was on that high again. If the eat is the hit, the fight is the trip. Each time the reel screamed I sank deeper into the moment. The back and forth with this creature was surreal as it fought for its life. It was intense. It was beautiful. I felt like I was watching myself from above as it came to hand. Staring at that second fish, I had a conflicting desire to both keep it secret and show it off to the world. Then the release, the comedown. Watching it swim away was bittersweet. I wanted to do it again and again. As the tail flapped against the inside of my wrist and I watched those burnt golden fins slide into the white water, I knew then that I was fucked for life.

“IF THE EAT IS THE HIT, THE FIGHT IS THE TRIP. EACH TIME THE REEL SCREAMED I SANK DEEPER INTO THE MOMENT.” 70

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GARLIC BUTTER BEACH CLAMS

MUNCHIES

D I Y F LY G U Y F R E D DAV I S ’ S G O -TO FO R AG E D S E A FO O D F E AST Photo. Fred Davis

n the beaches of southern Oman, everything is bigger, and the clams and ghost crabs are no exception. As the tide drops, some clams get washed out of the sand in the shore break and the ghost crabs drag them up the beach and wait for the sun to do its trick and, quite literally, cook them. The clams open, they’re dead and the crabs feast. As you slowly walk the beaches in search of permit, it’s a straightforward forage for that night’s dinner. I learnt this recipe on the beaches of Peru and it has been used on bivalves in Tierra del Fuego, Chile, South Africa, Qatar and now Oman. The Recipe: • A big whack of butter, 5 – 8 tablespoons • A handful of grated/finely diced garlic • The juice of half a lemon • A potful of big old Omani beach clams* • A handful of chopped fresh parsley, chives or any green garnish of your choice ** • 1 cup white wine ** • Wedges from the other half of the lemon for garnish The Method: 1. The first thing you MUST do is to put your clams in a bucket of clean water (add two or three spoons of salt) and let them sit for at least an hour. This purges the sand from the clams. 2 In your pot, melt about half your butter over medium heat. Add the garlic and cook, stirring constantly, until you get that sexy garlic butter smell. 3. Add wine and lemon juice and get the bubbles going. 4. Add clams and the rest of the butter. Put the lid on and steam until clams have opened. 5. Throw out any unopened clams. Let the good clams cool a bit. Sprinkle the green stuff on top and squeeze lemon wedges, if desired. Serve with a lekker white bread, like a French baguette. *This can be substituted for any clam or even SA’s own white mussels. ** On this Oman trip we didn’t have any of these. It doesn’t matter, they were still delicious!

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THE LARGEST FLY TYING SELECTION IN SOUTH

AFRICA

Shop online at www.xplorerflyfishing.co.za COME AND XPLORE OUR NEW CONCEPT STORE • UNIT 4 MARSEILLES PARK , 25 MARSEILLES CRESCENT, BRIARDENE, DURBAN NORTH The Xplorer Concept Store has every single Xplorer product, plus a wide range of products from the brands below. Pop in for a cup of coffee, have a browse around and see the complete range of products, never seen in one shop before. Open until 5pm Mon-Fri and until 1pm on Saturdays.

PERMISSION SLIPS I N T H E B EG I N N I N G , T H E R E WA S O N LY O N E P E R M I T. B U T, A S F LY F I S H I N G H O R I Z O N S B R O A D E N E D A N D W E S TA R T E D P E E K I N G U N D E R T H E I N D I A N A N D PA C I F I C O C E A N ’ S S K I R T S , T H E R E W E R E S U D D E N LY M O R E . W H I L E B E A R I N G I N M I N D T H AT A L L P E R M I T A R E T R A C H I N O T U S , B U T N O T A L L T R A C H I N O T U S A R E P E R M I T, L E T ’ S H AV E A Q U I C K , N O N - S C I E N T I F I C R U N D O W N O F W H AT M I G H T C O U N T I N T H E Q U E S T F O R F L AT S F I S H I N G ’ S H O LY G R A I L ! By Fred Davis. Photos. Jako Lucas, Stu Webb, Christiaan Pretorius, Corey Knowlton, Pieter Scholtz

Right: Trachinotus falcatus - “The Permit” The OG who needs no introduction! This is the fish that has inspired generations. Found in warms waters of the Western Atlantic, volumes have been written about how to catch them and how hard it is. The quintessential situation to fish for them is when they’re up on the shallow flats digging and tailing in search of crustaceans. Nick Bowles

Above: Trachinotus africanus - “Africanus” Africanus is the street fighter of the group. They are found in the gnarliest of settings; feeding on shallow and exposed mussel banks in the surf wash around areas that are often barely accessible on foot, they are best targeted by boat. They inhabit the tropical and temperate Indian Ocean. Below: Trachinotus blochii - “The Indo-Pacific Permit” If I’m being honest, this is the prettiest of the bunch. Found across tropical waters of the Indo-Pacific, this permit is just as fussy and has almost identical behaviours to its Atlantic kin. The burnt golden yellow fins frame an almost pearl body that makes them picture perfect, whether the backdrop is a palm-fringed island or a dusty desert. Peter Coetzee

Todd Remmers

Christiaan Pretorius

Left: Trachinotus anak - “The Pumpkin Nose” The Australian permit. They look like a blochii that swam into a wall. The overly round nose is its defining feature. Found in the tropics and subtropics of Australasia, they are most commonly targeted on shallow sand flats of Northern Australia.

ALL ARE KNOWN TO ELICIT THE FOLLOWING RESPONSES IN FLY ANGLERS: • PANIC •SHAKY HANDS, • WEAK KNEES • POOR PRESENTATIONS • A PROPENSITY TO SPEND STUPID AMOUNTS OF MONEY IN THE PURSUIT OF THEM • AN EMOTIONAL HIGH UPON CAPTURING ONE • CHILDISH EXCITEMENT • ADDICTION

Pieter Scholtz

Above: Trachinotus maxillosus - “Guinea Permit” The Atlantic mystery, found along the southern bulge of West Africa, from Senegal down to Northern Angola, this fish certainly looks the part with big sickle fins and tail. Whether or not it’s consistently targetable on the flats is the question? Pieter Scholtz’s one below took a Clouser.

Corey Knowlton

Trachinotus mookalee - “The Indian Permit” Most specimens on record have come from the coastline of the sub-continent and very little is known about this species. However, its similarity to blochii in shape, colour and distribution begs the question as to whether or not some of the blochii caught might be mookalee. Maybe that permit I saw behaving really strangely in Oman was actually a mookalee?

THE BOOK – A PASSION FOR PERMIT Tormented by Trachinotus? You can deny the sickle-finned demon and spend a lifetime fighting it OR you can give in and develop a Mother Superior-level habit. That’s what we imagine author Jonathan Olch did over the decades he spent fishing for permit. As a result his book, A Passion for Permit is by far the most comprehensive book on the subject out there. Featuring 20 global permit experts, it spans 1,120 pages in two volumes including 1000 colour photographs, maps and diagrams. Expect all the detail you can handle, from anatomy to biology, food sources, preferred habitats, tactics for catching them, plus over 100 fly patterns. apassionforpermit.com

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PERMIT PROS C AT C H I N G O N E P E R M I T I S H A R D E N O U G H . H O W A B O U T S I X I N O N E D AY U N D E R C O M P E T I T I O N P R E S S U R E ? T H AT ’ S W H AT T E A M M AT E S JOSE UCAN BRICEÑO AND JUSTIN REA PULLED OFF EARLIER THIS Y E A R AT T H E M A R C H M E R K I N T O U R N A M E N T K E Y W E S T, F L O R I D A . Photos. John Wolstenholme, Ian Davis

t’s amazing how a proper hangover, a stomach bug and throwing up off someone’s boat can forge a friendship. That’s exactly how Justin Rea, who guides out of the Florida Keys with Sting Rea Charters (stingreacharters.com), and guide Jose Ucan of Kay Fly Fishing Lodge (formerly La Pescadora) in Punta Allen, Mexico, first connected.

Justin says, “I was fishing a Redbone (redbone.org) tournament in Mexico over ten years ago and was paired with Jose. I got really drunk the night before. It was a disaster. The next morning when I got in the shower, because I kind of didn’t know where I was, I frickin’ opened my mouth and I ended up getting Montezuma’s revenge. Halfway across the bay in his boat, I’m puking all over and Jose must have been thinking, “Who is this fucking gringo?’ Anyways, I ended up catching two permit that day and, as sick as I was throughout the tournament, I ended up winning it.” From that inauspicious start, their partnership has gone from strength to strength. Justin joins Jose in Punta Allen to teach permit schools every August, but it’s in the competition scene in the US and Mexico where they are making the biggest waves. A formidable team, with Justin on the pole and Jose on the bow, they have not only won prestigious tournaments like the Del Brown (delbrown. com) and most recently, the March Merkin (marchmerkin. com), but they have dominated. We spoke to them about their most recent record-breaking win in the March Merkin, their connection, and techniques for upping your permit game.

THE MARCH MERKIN

The Mission (TM): Right, so you caught seven permit in three days of competition at this year’s March Merkin including six fish on the final day. To put that in perspective for our readers, a total of 23 permit were caught between 24 boats. In 2021 only seven fish were caught between 25 boats. Tell us about your history as a team and how it all went down in this competition.

Justin Rea (JR): About three years ago I invited Jose to fish the Del Brown in Key West. A few people knew who he was, but we just smoked the competition. We caught six fish during that tournament. On the second day I think we caught four. We won the Del Brown, hands down and we’ve been fishing together ever since. We fished the Del Brown again the following year, caught seven fish and tied for first place with Will Benson, but he had one fish that was a little bit bigger than ours so he got first and we got second. That was an awesome tournament, because the last fish that Jose caught, we were getting off the edge of the flat and there were 30 seconds left to go on the clock. As I jumped down to put my push pole away, he cast out to reel in. As he’s reeling in, he hooked a permit. He’s like, “I got one.” I’m like, “Got what?” He says, “Palometa! Start the motor.” I say, “Bullshit, that’s a snapper.” We ended up hooking it three seconds before the buzzer went off, so it counted, and that was our seventh for the Del Brown. When he came out this year for the March Merkin we went out pre-fishing the day before the tournament, which we don’t normally like to do, because if you catch one in pre-fishing, you have bad luck. Right? Well, we had two shots and he caught one. Damn! We went in, had lunch and just chilled. And of course, on day number one, we were getting lots of shots, but we were not feeding them, we didn’t catch and we started getting frustrated. On day two, we were getting more shots in. I don’t want to give a whole bunch of secrets away, but we unlocked a little bit of a code on day two. We only ended up catching one fish, but we saw the fish react to something we did and we capitalised on that the last day. Going into day three, somebody else already had three fish on the board and we only had the one, but we were convinced that we were going to do well. Jose Ucan (JU): At the tournament this year, we were

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Jose down low with a comp-winning permit, Justin up top with the fist and flex.

lucky on the last day, because on the first day we had solid weather and we had a few shots. If we caught the first fish in the morning, then we’d crush it on those days. But if we didn’t – if we didn’t find fish or if I didn’t cast well or if something happened… This year was crazy, because we caught our first fish in the last minutes of the second day. On the last day, we arrived there around 8am and saw three or four fish tailing. One cast and we got that one. JR: Jose saw something off the right side of the boat. I stopped the boat, he jumped out and waded over. I looked and there were seven permit lined up. He made a perfect cash, came tight and caught one. It was 8:15am. Every time we’d done well that early in the morning, it had been a really good day. We kept going - whack, whack, whack, whack. JU: That day we crushed it. We found big schools, a couple of small schools, a lot of singles too. It was just a great,

great day. One of the best days I think for Justin and for me too. JR: When we found fish Jose was just on fire. It potentially could have been a ten fish day, because he got his fly stolen once by a mutton snapper, once by a cuda and twice by yellow jacks. JU: I also had another big permit eat and then spit out the fly. JR: It was a crazy, I had two in the net at one time. Number five was in the net and Jose’s going, “Get rid of it, get rid of it! There’s a school coming!” I took the fly out and looked up and whaaam, he hooked up again. So I netted two and have a picture of him, holding both of them on the boat together. We broke two records. Nobody’s ever caught seven fish in the March Merkin and nobody’s ever caught six in any tournament in the Keys.

ANGLES AND TEAMWORK

TM: There are books, forums and entire schools of thought dedicated to permit and the intricacies of leading them vs casting as close to them as possible. What’s your take? JU: You need to have a feel for those fish. Because some of them do not want to eat and you need to know how they eat. It depends on how they are coming. A fish can behave in three or four different ways. They can make nervous water, they can be tailing, or floating on the surface. How are they going to eat? A couple of those fish you need to hit on the head, some you need to throw far in front of them and others just three feet in front. You need to read those fish before you cast. JR: The angler really has to pay attention to the fish. You watch the fish come up and his body language tells you when he ate the fly. Every fish is different. If the fish are tailing, you want to put it in there close. If the fish are cruising, you can lead them and cross them a little bit, and then strip it by them. If the fish are floating, tailing on the surface, it’s a different presentation. Getting the right angle is very important. Ninety degrees is probably the last angle you can take. Really, you want them coming, moving towards the fly and the fly has got to be going away from them a little bit. JU: When you are fishing for permit, it’s important that, before you can start talking about “three o’clock” or “sixty feet”, the angler needs to see the fish. It helps a lot, because if you start shouting and he doesn’t see it, you don’t have it. JR: You’ve got to have good eyes. You’ve got to see them. It’s better if you see them before the guide does so always pay attention, be on the lookout all the time. If you don’t know where to look, ask the guide what side of the bank is he going to come on? Is he going to come on the right or the left? Usually the guide will put the boat on one side and be looking for him in a direction where the angler can make a good cast. Ask the guide questions if you have to. JU: The angler and guide need to work together. I’ve been fishing with Justin a long time and I know how he’s calling it. I know he sees the fish really well and he knows how I fit in. It’s not just me or just Justin. We are a really good team now. We have an understanding. JR: I just tell him he can’t have a beer until he catches a fish.

MEXICO VS THE KEYS…AND FLY CHOICE

How different is the permit fishing between the Keys and Mexico? Does that affect your choice of fly in tournaments?

JU: In Mexico we have big schools, in the Keys there are a lot of singles. We don’t have that many tailing fish. From July to October, we have tailing fish. The rest of the year, it’s mostly schools. It can be shallow too, but they don’t tail like on the Keys. On the Keys they’re tailing every day and you can see it. Over here, sometimes you’re fishing in onetwo feet of water and those permit aren’t tailing or eating. I don’t know why. On the Keys you see a lot of tailing. It’s a little harder because you have to cast right close to the fish and strip differently. Here you’re stripping fast. JR: There are a lot of similarities. Our fish in the Keys tend to be found in ones and twos, whereas Jose’s got more schools of fish floating around up top. He just knows how to read all the fish. JU: For me fly choice really depends on the current. We don’t have big tides, like the Keys. I use a lot of shrimp patterns over here, because a lot of our customers, they don’t know how to set. Some of our customers are just stripping the fly and the permit hooks itself. They don’t need to set it because it’s moving fast. On the Keys you need to move it slowly. They use a lot of crabs. Justin is the first guy I saw using shrimps over there. I don’t know if it depends on the tide. In Mexico it depends on the tide and the moon. For me the moon is really important. You need to strip really slowly when it’s full moon and you can use a crab, but when it’s a dark moon, you need to move your fly. JR: We don’t talk about flies very much. In the tournament guys will hide their fly when they come into the dock. Our flies have always changed. Every tournament, I think I’ve used a different fly, or a different variation of something. JU: This year we used something really different that I had never seen over there before. JR: Really, in the long sense of everything, it’s not the arrow. It’s the Indian.”

RELAX, IT’S JUST ANOTHER TARGET

TM: Do people freak out too much about permit? JR: Of course, yeah. Anglers will cast a hundred times before they catch a permit, so when they get a shot they, rightfully, get all jacked up and forget how to cast. They get it into their heads that, ‘Oh my God, it’s such a special fish. I got to catch it. I got to catch it.’ But you’ve just got to treat it like another target, and not freak out. Relax and just throw at it like any other target, but throw better. When you’ve got that jacked-up feeling, peoples’ casts just go to shit. I tell them that it’s just another Jack Cravelle, a fancy Jack, and then they’ll make a killer cast. JU: Those clients hook a Jack and land a permit.

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Jose Ucan with his son Parker and a fine permit, while in the background the Don Juan of permits watches.

SHOP THE MISSION

Jose and Justin’s go-to tackle for pin-point permit presentation. Rod: 8 or 9-weight Thomas & Thomas Sextant, thomasandthomas.com Reel: Hatch 7 Plus, hatchoutdoors.com Line: Scientific Anglers Amplitude Smooth Infinity Salt, scientificanglers.com Leader: “We use an all fluorocarbon leader, tippeted down to 16lbs.”

L AT ES T R E L E A S ES

SALAD BAR

BAJIO - SUNGLASSES There’s a new premium fly fishing sunnies giant in the arena and they’re shooting the lights out. Now available in South Africa, Bajio boast phenomenally clear lenses and a completely carbon neutral business model. Add to that a huge range of both mens and ladies frame shapes (our current

favorites are the Caballo, Calda and Paila), frame colours and lens options and you can see, clearly, why Bajio have rapidly become so popular in the USA. There’s an extensive range available at X-Factor, the exclusive supplier and stockist of Bajio in Africa. bajiosunglasses.com, xfactorangling.co.za

LOOP - EV0TEC G-5 REEL Relax tinfoil hat brigade. This is the G-5 reel, nothing to do with 5G and Bill Gates. It’s the latest iteration of Loop’s brilliant Evotec series with a sleek, updated design and several upgraded features like a new brake knob system that will give you better control over the brake even when your fingers are frozen. They have also introduced a new spool cap – which provides much better grip for spool changes – and enhanced the overall strength of the frame. Strong, smooth and sexy as all hell, the Evotec G5 is available in 4/6, 7/9 and 9/13 models in sleek gunmetal grey. And yes, G5 reels will work with your existing G4 spare spools. looptackle.com, flyfishing.co.za

“STRONG, SMOOTH AND SEXY AS ALL HELL” TIEMCO - SHIMAZAKI MAGIC SPRAY & SHAKE 2 minutes to go in a test match and your prop goes down. Out come the medics and they proceed to spray his shins with magic spray while he catches his breath. He bounces back up, dominates the next scrum and you win the game. While, Bob Skinstad aside, fly fishing and rugby have few connections, magic spray exists in both worlds. Shimazaki Magic Spray and Shake does to your dry flies what the

medic spray does to props. Point it at the fly and give it a quick shot on the top and bottom and watch the magic happen. It actually comes out as a liquid and then turns into a white powder right before your eyes. The most impressive thing is that the powder stays on the fly longer, giving you more cast/fish per treatment. tiemco.co.jp, xfactorangling.co.za

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FISHPOND – FIREHOLE BACKPACK To go boldly where no one has been before (or at least recently), you need a pack that can take everything you might need for a full day and then some. The 26-litre Firehole backpack ticks all the boxes from support to space and organization. Features include a lightweight foam shoulder strap, hip belt, molded back panel, adjustable sternum strap and interior sleeve and pass-through for a bladder ensuring comfort and hydration on long hikes. There’s a removable hip belt and integrated net slots and water bottle holders on either side of the pack. Perhaps the smartest feature is the stowable Hypalon® wader/ boot pouch with additional exterior attachment points so you can cover distance in a pair of trail shoes and then change into the heavy stuff when it’s time to get wet. As is Fishpond’s way, the Firehole backpack is compatible with the Thunderhead, Canyon Creek and Cross-Current Chest Packs. fishpondusa.com, frontierflyfishing.com

SHAKU HUNTER – SPRING/SUMMER DROP Our favourite Japanese smallstream fly fishing crew, Shaku Hunter, are back with a new range There’s a lot to choose from, including stream long-sleeved shirts and hoodies, but if forced to our top picks would be the following:

REDINGTON - TRAILBLAZER 6-PIECE ROD Remove the, “Should I? Shouldn’t I” dilemma around packing a rod for any trip - be it a multi-day hike in the middle of nowhere, an overseas trip to an area that might have some fishing, or even a dog-walk at the local park with its carp-laden duck ponds – by getting a smuggler. The Redington Trailblazer is a 6-piece travel rod designed for just such a job with single foot Snake guides for reducing weight and a compact rod tube for stashing in a backpack or under a car seat. Available in a 7’6” 3-weight for small stream sessions or a 9’ 5-weight for larger rivers, stillwaters and those carpy duck ponds. Bonus = the lifetime warranty. farbank.com, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

clobber of gear. jackets, choose,

Cotton Silk Bandana – Featuring the contours of the Shaku Hunters’ home rivers in the Miyagi prefecture north of Tokyo, this 50-50 silk/cotton blended bandana can be used as a sun mask, neckerchief for bank heists, or a mask for garage pie skermishes in the time of Covid etc. Jackalope Tee- an homage to their favourite town, Jackson WY (and the Jackalope, a mythical rabbit-like beastie with antlers), this relax fit T is made from combed yarn that gives it a smooth clean touch. Shaku-Hun W.W. Short – designed for wet wading these 5-pocket cargo shorts are made with super water-repellent, quick drying, soft and durable taslan nylon. shakuhunter.official.ec

L AT ES T R E L E A S ES

SALAD BAR SAGE - THERMO REEL 10/12 A new entry in the heavyweight reel category, Sage’s Thermo looks like the real deal for dominating poons, geets and sundry super-sized species. Former Proteas captain MC Coetzer did his homework on this reel before getting one. He says, “The new Thermos 12-weight reel landed in my lap a few months ago and my first impression is that this reel is an absolute machine. It’s a bit heavier than other reels in its class, but it is clear that it was built with durability in mind. The Thermos will undoubtedly stand up to an impressive amount of abuse. The outstanding features are the drag and drag knob. The stated drag is an impressive 20 lbs and when you actually pull line against the drag it is smooth - that’s if you get to move the spool. The drag knob is huge and it takes the drag from zero to maximum with less than one turn. This feature is definitely a game changer. No more struggling to turn a small drag knob with wet hands

while a fish is abusing you out on a reef. The drag and drag knob alone makes this reel super impressive.” MC will be testing his on tarpon in Gabon soon. You can get yours at Frontier Fly Fishing in South Africa. farbank.com, frontierflyfishing.com

YETI - 10oz MUG There’s a new Yeti drop at Upstream Fly Fishing, including a 10oz and 14oz Rambler stackable mugs and the 20oz Rambler travel mug. Made from stainless steel with double-wall vacuum insulation, they also sport those nifty magslider™ lids. Great for both compact storage and hot brews. yeti.com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

JMC - COMPETITION STYLE CHEST PACK JMC is one of those low-key French fly fishing brands that don’t really market themselves. Then you realize a ton of top competition anglers use their stuff and the penny drops. This pack is a prime example. It has everything you need and nothing you don’t. Magnetic pouches for quick and easy access, D rings in the right places, a comfortable sizing that can be adjusted to fit all and most importantly, space to carry those essentials on the river. xfactorangling.co.za

LIVELY LEGZ - THE NET MAN Nets, if we’re honest, can be a ball-ache to handle. You do the hard work of hooking, fighting and bringing a fish in, but at the crucial moment of landing it, all grace and co-ords escape you as, eyes on the fish, you scrabble around for your net. While it might sound like a fishnet stocking-clad burlesque show, The Net Man from Lively Legz is in fact a super smart net carry system consisting of a holster designed to clip onto your belt and hold the net, a magnetic mounting bracket allowing the net to hang securely from the holster and a lanyard so that even if you drop your net, it won’t disappear downstream. livelylegz.com, xfactorangling.co.za

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L AT ES T R E L E A S ES

SALAD BAR PATAGONIA - STEALTH PACK VEST Iiiiiit’s baaaack! The latest iteration of Patagonia’s iconic fishing vest is made from 100% recycled polyester warpknit mesh and contrast fabric that is 100% recycled nylon ripstop with a PU face coating and a TPU back coating. It boasts an ingenious suspension system using tech that comes from their latest trail running vests. The result? An athletic fit and balanced carrying. On the subject of carrying, at first glance the Stealth Pack Vest only seems to have a few front pockets, but nothing could be further from the truth. From the visible to the concealed, there are two zippered, pass-through back storage pockets with hydration compatibility; two large fly-box pockets; four additional vertical pockets, a floatant pocket and zippered security pockets including a removal waterproof sleeve for keys, phone etc. Throw in the integrated rod holder, fly patch, hemostat dock and garage, multiple clip and attachment points, and an adjustable front closure that allows for layering and you have a vest for the ages. patagonia.com, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

SIMMS - FREESTONE WADER PANTS Like the conditions we fish in, not all waders are alike. For many people, high-chested waders capable of fjording deeper rivers are simply not necessary. If you are pretty confident you’re not going to wade past waist-deep, then Simms Freestone wading pants may be a good option for you. They pack small and their durable, breathable Toray® QuadraLam™ 4-layer fabric can take a proper bundu beating. What else? Gusseted & zippered fly for improved fit and easy on-off? Tick. Hip pockets for quick access to essentials? Tick. Built-in Gravel Guard with gathered elastic bottom hem, 3 belt loops with a 2 in. elastic waist belt and anatomically engineered neoprene stockingfeet with anti-microbial finish? Tick. simmsfishing. com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

“THEY PACK SMALL AND THEIR DURABLE, BREATHABLE TORAY® QUADRALAM™ 4-LAYER FABRIC CAN TAKE A PROPER BUNDU BEATING.”

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IWANA - WIDE SMALL TROUT REEL Named after the Japanese name for whitespotted char, the Iwana reels made by Liu Shaojie and Wang Liang are based on the classic stylings of legendary reelmaker Stan Bogdan’s reels. Made from 6061-T6 aircraft grade aluminium bar stock with ebony or wooden handles, these affordable little click and pawl stunners are beautifully finished and tightly machined. Unless you can afford a Bogdan original, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better match for your favourite small stream rod. Iwana one, how about you? Available from Frontier Fly Fishing in a Wide Trout Small (4-weight) and a Trout (5-weight). iwanafishing.com, frontierflyfishing.com

HOWLERS BROTHERS - UNSTRUCTURED SNAPBACKS Need a quality lid? Look no further than the unstructured Howler Brothers Rainbow and Trout Snapbacks available at Upstream Fly Fishing. With a soft crown and lack of internal structure they take the shape of your pip, while the dark underbrim reduces glare on the water. howlerbros.com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

ORVIS - TROUT RISING TECH BALL CAP At first glance, this is a basic a baller, but look a little closer and you’ll find a feature rich melon covering. Made from moisture-wicking fabric with built-in UPF 50 protection from harmful rays, it sports an adjustable hook-and-loop closure for the perfect fit. Bonus: it’s eco-friendly, with the brim made from 100% recycled fishing nets, keeping our oceans cleaner. orvis.com, flyfishing.co.za

SIMMS – ROGUE HOODY For a hoodie that goes from the couch to the creel without letting either location down, meet the lovable Simms Rogue. It does the snug, comfort side of things with aplomb thanks to a breathable, soft fleece interior, but with water-resistant externals, and a 3-panel drawcord hood it’s got you covered if the weather changes. The self-fabric cuffs and hem accentuate comfort and warmth, while a zippered chest and 2 hand pockets hold a fly box, tippet and whatever else you might need for a quick session. simmsfishing.com, frontierflyfishing.com

THOMAS & THOMAS - VINTAGE LOGO CAP More old-school when it comes to taste in caps? Look no further than Thomas & Thomas’s classic Casting Man patch embroidered on a 100% cotton twill ball cap. With a dark under-bill to cut glare on the water and adjustable buckle closure with ‘1969’ and the T&T signature on the back, this is the kind of cap you live in. thomasandthomas.com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

PATAGONIA - SUN STRETCH SHIRT Sun hoodies are great for many applications, but often nothing beats a technical long-sleeved button-up fishing shirt. Made from a stretchy, ultralight nylon/polyester blend with mechanical stretch, Patagonia’s Sun Stretch shirts are designed specifically for hot and humid conditions. Two vertical-zip chest pockets hold anything you need to access quickly (such an underrated feature) and feature mesh backing for improved ventilation and drainage. The durable plastic zippers prevent corrosion in saltwater environments. patagonia.com, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

L AT ES T R E L E A S ES

SALAD BAR UMPQUA - ZS2 TRAVELER FLY TYING KIT Whether it’s a fly tying evening at your buddy’s house or a cross-country roadtrip where you’re going to need to adapt and restock your boxes as you fish different areas, a fly tying bag designed for travel is a seriously handy thing. Umpqua’s customizable ZS2 Traveler Fly Tying Kit nails the brief. The molle design allows for internal and external attachment of a vise storage pouch (included); a unique pop-up tool caddy holds up to 22 tools on one side and a zippered compartment storage on the other. The caddy is also removable and free-standing so you feel right at home whether traveling or tying at the kitchen table. From that to the many zippered mesh pockets and the thread storage tubes, this is a seriously clever, well-thought out piece of kit. umpqua.com, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

“NO TRENCH FOOT FOR YOU!”

DAIICHI - PREDATOR, 4X STREAMER, JIG HOOKS Refilling your fly boxes this winter? You might want to restock on a selection of Daiichi hooks available from Xplorer Fly Fishing. For streamers, muddlers, zonkers, bucktails and your wooly bugger stash, check out the forged 2220 4XL Streamer Hook with its round bend, down eye, 1X heavy wire and 4X-long shank. Available in #2-#10. For nymphs small and bead head leeches, the 4647 Heavy Jig with 60 degree bend, flat eye and black nickel finish is the hook. Available in #10-#18. For multipurpose streamers, or as a tube fly hook, the wide gape and short shank of the durable 2477 Alpha Predator Hook is your go-to. Made from hi-carbon steel with a straight eye and black nickel finish. Available in (#2, #1, #1/0). xplorerflyfishing.co.za

ORVIS - NEOPRENE GUARD SOCKS We love that there are people out there doing serious R&D into socks so we don’t have to. The Neoprene Guard Socks from Orvis are a prime example. Quick-drying with a new, improved anatomical fit, they are constructed from a four-way stretch 3mm perforated neoprene that keeps you comfortable on the water while the perforations allow the socks to dry quickly and breathe. Rollover gravel guard protects your laces, stays in place, and blocks debris. No trench foot for you! orvis.com, flyfishing.co.za

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DEEP WANTS

PAY DAY - JVICE - NO. 2000 A R E Y O U A C O L L E C T O R A N D F LY T Y E R ? T H E M A K E R O F A R G U A B LY T H E W O R L D ’ S B E S T F LY T Y I N G V I C E I S A U C T I O N I N G H I S 2 0 0 0 T H V I C E F O R C H A R I T Y.

hank Beelzebub for cheap fly tying vices! Why you ask? Because if retired machinist Jay Smit had not attempted to tie flies on one of those, he would not have lost his temper and decided to make his own fly tying vice.

The end result, the JVice, has long been regarded as one of, if not THE, best fly tying vices in the world. Produced by Jay in his garage (equipped with a CNC machine) in Kloof, KwaZulu-Natal since 2003, JVices have a phenomenal reputation for quality and performance.

The Charity: All money raised will go to the Red Cross Children’s Hospital (childrenshospitaltrust.org.za). To date, the fly fishing community has raised over R600 000 ($38 000) for this fantastic organisation that provides advanced treatment to babies from across Africa. The Process: Email your bid to info@themissionflymag. com. Bids close on Wednesday August 31 at 17:00 SAST.

Describing the original thinking behind his design, Jay says, “The JVice was designed so that I could be with my wife and kids while they watched TV. I didn’t want to lock myself in a room to tie. That is where the base comes from. It also worked out really nicely for when you’re camping. You can sit there in a deckchair and tie. It was all designed to fit in a laptop bag. Laptop bags make an ideal carry bag because they have all the pockets for pens and pencils which hold scissors and bodkins. People always say they want a travel vice and I say, this is a travel vice.” From tying at home in your man-cave or with the family, tying the tiniest of micro midges to massive bucktail streamers, JVices do it all. That’s why they are the go-to vice for a range of esteemed fly tying names from legends like Gary Borger, Hans von Klinken, Ed Herbst and Tom Sutcliffe, to innovative next-gen fly tyers like Alec Gerbec and Cameron Musgrave. OWN THIS VICE: To celebrate the 2000th JVice ever made and to raise funds for a very good cause, Jay has partnered with The Mission to auction this special vice to the highest bidder. When Jay ran a similar auction for the 1000th vice he made in 2013, hundreds of bids were submitted from all over the world with Pete Gray of New York taking home the vice. The Prize: The winner will get a JVice Gooseneck Original, a Damasteel Pro Jaw, a Wenge wooden base, an extension arm, two bead dishes, a waste basket, hackle pliers, dubbing spinner, mini hair stacker, Gallows attachment and a carry bag for the base kit worth a total of $1188.

“THE BEST FLY TYING VICE IN THE WORLD”

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BIG CITY TROUT

THE ITCH

BIG CITY FISHING OPTIONS ARE HARD TO FIND. BIG CITY FISHING O P T I O N S T H AT A R E N O T B A S S O R C A R P A R E E V E N H A R D E R . F I N D I N G S O M E W H E R E T O C AT C H T R O U T, W H I L E D O I N G Y O U R B I T A S A D A D A N D TA K I N G C O N F E R E N C E C A L L S … I N G R E AT E R J O H A N N E S B U R G ? U N H E A R D O F. O R S O B R A N D S T R AT E G I S T J A D E D O S S A N T O S T H O U G H T U N T I L H E W O R K E D R E M O T E LY F R O M T H E H A R D -T O - F I N D X - FA C T O R T R O U T FA R M O N T H E E A S T R A N D . Photos. Luke Pannell

hen I was younger, I would sometimes fish the Cape Streams over four times a week. Most often twice at least. I also used to take extended 3-4 week-long trips to the North Eastern Cape to indulge my fishing needs, to escape the eternal hustle and bustle of the city, and spend time out of contact with the world to quieten my mind and feel lost in the great big wilderness.

Well… not anymore. Nowadays you most often find me staring longingly at duck ponds in the greenbelts of Johannesburg while I take my daughter for a walk. As I scan the water instinctively, I find myself wondering, between work commitments and fatherhood, how I strayed so far away from something so close to my heart? Life is busy, but working dads need to be able enjoy a morning off. Without the lengthy piscatorial pursuits I once enjoyed, and especially with the Vaal River being out of action this whole summer, I now find myself trying to carve out a few hours to head to some close-by trout waters, which are so lacking in Johannesburg. A nearby day trip is a far more feasible option than driving three hours to go to Dullstroom for the weekend. Or I might as well just surrender and take up golf, right? Yeah… right. Dan Factor of X-Factor saw the gap, and through long and hard negotiations, gained access to a spot that could fill that void for many dads and workaholics up here at reef level. This is the story of how a working Dad can get away on a Friday and spend at least part of the day fishing while also working.

5:48pm Alarm is set for 6:00am, but I’m awoken by loud screaming. Remove child from crib, insert in bed between wife and me. 6:12am Slept through alarm, awake with giggling child sticking finger in my nose. 6:18am Give bottle, have coffee, pack fishing and laptop bags into car, and try creep out the house before being noticed. 6:22am I refuse to walk around with one of those bright pink nappy bags, so I went and bought another Camo Range bag, the same as my fishing and hunting pack. Took nappy bag instead of fly fishing bag, so drive back home since I won’t be needing diapers where I am going, at least I shouldn’t. I was noticed.

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7:12am The 40-minute drive from Sandton to Germiston goes by in flash. Having never been to Germiston, I was unfamiliar with the terrain. I somehow was expecting a little urban farm or smallholding, but I find myself wedged firmly between a Builders Warehouse and a McDonald’s, in a big shopping complex. This certainly doesn’t look right. The GPS says X-Factor Trout Farm, but the view around me doesn’t seem to align with the intended destination. 7:13am Call Dan Factor, owner of X-Factor. “Where the hell am I?” Dan informs me I am indeed not lost, and that I need to drive down the servitude road next to the Builders Warehouse. “The one with the tips out back?” “Ja, that’s it.” Dan had a sign, but some homeless dudes took it. The challenges of urban fishing are many. 7:13 am More intrigued than anything, yet filled with apprehension that I’ll find Ronald McDonald dishing out handjobs or discover how the Builders Warehouse boerie rolls are really made, I commence down the back alley. A very pleasant surprise comes in to view in the shape of a large clean body of water, with neatly mowed grass, multiple jetties and some guys already bobbing around in float tubes. The challenge is on! Can I successfully go fishing, and manage to pull off a working Friday from the side of this urban dam, unnoticed by the office? 7:15 am - 7:30 am Set up the gear and have a few casts before the first meeting at 8 am. 7:55 am Put on shirt and jacket, set background to fade, and plan the day’s scheduling with the team. No hitches, no one suspects a thing. Dan joins me, we spend some time chatting. Like the urinal at a porno awards show, it’s a hell of a thing when as a casual angler, a Protea fisherman pulls up next to you and starts to fish. I’m intrigued by this place and the clarity of the water. Dan tells me that the dam is spring-fed, and he had the water tested and it’s basically drinkable. That’s rare for any water source in the Gauteng region.

“COLLEAGUES SUSPICIOUS. THEY WANT TO KNOW HOW I ANIMATED MY MICROSOFT TEAMS BACKGROUND WITH THE MEN IN THE BOATS BOBBING AROUND AND CASTING.” Dan quickly gets a few bumps, but can’t manage to stick a fish. I too get a few bumps, and nothing sticks. Dan, stripping a blob booby, and I on an egg-sucking leech. I refuse to use a blob.

lazily passed me, choosing not to eat the blob I throw in front of it. A fish after my own heart. But also, what kind of stockies are these? Might this trophy actually be difficult to catch? In a stockie dam?

Dan makes contact, sticks a fish, and a small stocky comes in. Dan starts telling me about how the dam is stocked with various size fish, rainbows and browns. Some bass and even a few yellowfish have come out of this surprising escape of a trout dam.

12:38am Call from Boss. Discuss new brief while I had the rod in my hand and line out. Get a tug, put call on hold, land and release another fish, pick up call, tell boss the line dropped, which it sort of did... ‘yer honour.

9:30am More people are arriving, the place is busy, but not too busy. I get many funny looks from passersby, seeing a man with his laptop out, and casting flies in a jacket and shirt made more for a boardroom than a set of waders.

“Where are you?” she asks. “On my way to the office,” I say. “Great, I will see you there,” she says.

That’s me. Business on top - quick dry parachute pants below.

“Great, see you in 40 minutes!” I say, possibly slightly too chipper in tone.

10:00am Next meeting. Discussing a new brief from a client. Forget to put on a background fade, have to convince my colleagues that the picturesque dam behind me is just a background I chose. Colleagues suspicious. They want to know how I animated my Microsoft Teams background with the men in the boats bobbing around and casting. I blame Bill Gates and 5G and feign ignorance as to their new background selection technology. Continue meeting. Suddenly, nearby, there is loud shouting of “On Dad!” and almost as suddenly, my WIFI dropped and I was loadshed*.

Shit. Bluff called. Blob retrieved.

I WhatsApp client, “We will have to continue the meeting on Monday.” 10:30 - 12:30am After Dan’s success on the blob, I relented and tied on one of those neon abominations that have no place in fly fishing. While casting away off a jetty, after picking up a few small stockies, a 10lber swims

Itch scratched. Mission successful. 1:30pm Back at the office, I give my boss a courtesy wave and sit at my desk, parachute pants sliding off the chair. Another meeting alert pops up in the corner of my screen. I press “Join meeting,” and wait for it to kick off. My mind is still on a dam in Germiston where a blob-hating 10lber swims past me again. *For non-South African readers, this is a unique turn of phrase our government uses to describe staggered power outages by suburb as a management plan for the country’s electricity grid due to decades of their own incompetence and corruption.

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LIFER

THE STORYTELLER F LY F I S HI NG O FT E N A P P E A RS TO BE AS MUCH ABOUT STORY-TELLING AS I T I S ABO U T CATCHI NG FI SH, WHICH IS WHY IT’S NO SURPRISE TH AT R E N OW NE D RACO NT EU R, R OB CA SK IE, IS A FAN OF THE LON G ROD. W I T H H I S T RA D E M A RK S HORTS AND STICK, MR CASKIE SPIN S A FA N TAST I C YA RN, RA NG I NG FROM THE AN GLO-ZULU BATTLEFIELDS OF I SA N DLWA NA A ND RO RKE’S DRIFT, TO SHACKLETON’S AN TARCTIC EXP E D I T I O NS O R OTHER INCREDIBLE TALES. Photos. Platon Trakoshis, Rob Caskie

The best advice I have ever been given was to learn to listen more and to speak less.

The first fish I remember catching when I was five years old, was a large-mouth bass. The places I have called home include farms in the Midlands of KwaZulu Natal, the Anglo Zulu Battlefields at Rorke’s Drift and, after travelling around the world for four years, I now reside in Howick. I’ve had many different jobs from hod carrier, to grape picker, commercial landscaper, general worker/driver on farms in South Africa, England, Australia, New Zealand, USA and Canada, photographic safari guide, storyteller on battlefields, and now professional speaker. My ideal day starts with an early morning mountain bike ride in Karkloof Forests, the morning spent in my study dealing with emails and work related matters, while the afternoon is spent preparing for and traveling to a story-telling event. My home waters are primarily dams in the Natal Midlands and foothills of the Drakensberg for brown and rainbow trout.

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I’m most proud of a 180 degree change in my career path in my mid thirties when I was at a low point in my life. I studied agriculture in Pietermaritzburg. Thereafter my life included wildlife safari guiding in Botswana; much photography; Cape to Cairo with Kingsley Holgate and then a three-year backpacking sojourn around the world. I had a small safari business and during the winter looked after dairy farms in the farmer’s absence. Money however was tight, my relationship ended acrimoniously and my foster father took his own life on the farm, battling Alzheimer’s. With no background whatsoever in theatre, drama, history or public speaking, friends and family prevailed upon me to take up the invitation from David Rattray to join him as a storyteller on the Anglo Zulu War battlefields. The best party trick I have ever seen was my younger brother performing the New Zealand haka (which he is very good at), after which he leapt in the air grabbing onto a beam overhead. The beam broke, collapsing onto the audience (nobody was hurt), whereupon my brother bowed to the audience as if it was part of the act Something I have had to work at in life is administration, paperwork, time management and financial matters. Storytelling comes most naturally. The most satisfying fish I ever caught was an 18-pound pike in the Lake at Ashford Castle in Ireland. My go-to drink is a Partly Cloudy = Jameson’s Whiskey and ginger ale. One place, never again would be Hawaii. Insincere residents, heat and humidity, the most expensive bed in all my travels and I got eaten alive by bedbugs. The bites went septic and I could not wait to leave the place!

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“THE LAST FISH I CAUGHT WAS A BEAUTIFUL WILD RAINBOW TROUT ON THE HOLSLOOT RIVER NEAR RAWSONVILLE.”

“AND OVER ON THE LEFT WAS WHERE THE ZULUS MOERED THE POMS SO HARD THEIR ANCESTORS LOST THE 2019 RUGBY WORLD CUP 32-12.”

One place I have to return to is the High Himalayas, Nepal and Tibet. On the hiking trails one is judged and measured by no other parameter than by one’s ability to walk. The greeting of “Namaste” is universal - meaning I salute the god or good within you. The Buddhists devotedly live their religion seven days a week. I felt closer to my creator there than anywhere else on earth. I cannot wait to return.

options in the modern world. Deep within us lies an innate desire to be entertained in the theatre of our imagination by a story well told.

When is it okay for an angler to lie? Legends grow in the telling and I think all anglers dream of catching a fish they do not need to lie about.

Before I die, I’d like to return to the Himalayas, visit Machu Picchu and find the time to watch more sunsets and see more trees grow.

The handiest survival skill I have is that I am very good mechanically and can normally find my way out of a jam if it involves a vehicle. A skill I would like to master is technology.

What I get out of fly fishing has absolutely changed over the years. In the past the catch was most important. Now the scenery, the headspace, the technique and the privilege are paramount

I fear war will always be an aspect of human nature. Ego, culture, testosterone and religion are a heady mix. So long as men remain in leadership positions war, in my opinion, is sadly inevitable. The biggest adventures I’ve ever been on are numerous… from traveling Cape to Cairo with Kingsley Holgate, various motorcycle trips, hiking in the High Himalayas to driving the Canadian-Alaskan Highway Regarding storytelling’s importance in modern society, I believe there is a resurgence of interest in storytelling promoted perhaps by a general overload of entertainment

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The best way to face one’s fears is by understanding that the worst is very unlikely. Most fears are imaginary and never as bad as one thinks.

If I could change one thing in fly fishing, it would be that the status and cost of top venues would not be so important. Looking back on my life, if there was anything I would do differently, it would be that since I pass this way but once, I would have extended far more acts of kindness and have had more real fears and fewer imaginary ones Something I have changed my mind about is that life should be measured in experience rather than dollars. The last fish I caught was a beautiful wild rainbow trout with Platon Trakoshis on the Holsloot River near Rawsonville.

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POP QUIZ S H I N Y L I K E A F L A S H C L O U S E R O R D I M M E R T H A N B A S S ? F L O AT I N G T O T H E T O P O R S I N K I N G L I K E A D M A ? TA K E O U R Q U I C K Q U I Z T O S E E I F YO U A B S O R B E D A N Y T H I N G F R O M T H I S I S S U E .

Two cover options for The Mission as submitted by the Oman DIY crew. It was a close call, but Lesotho beat the toilet and the naartjie piel this time.

2. Peacock City is … (page 50) A. Where wannabee pick-up artists learn the ways of Neil Strauss. B. A suburb of Calcutta, India, over-run with peacocks. C. A section of Colombia’s Orinoco River with sanded boulders protruding from the depths below. D. The go-to retailer for comp anglers’ pointy leather shoes. 3. What was the catalyst for Justin Rea and Jose Ucan’s friendship and, subsequently, their competition-winning partnership (page 80)? A. Beelzebub’s Biliary and forward-planning. B. Cthulhu’s Chlamydia and synergy. C. Nyaminyami’s Yips and meditation. D. Montezuma’s Revenge and teamwork. E. Tetanus of Toutatis and leadership.

108

4. What did Jade dos Santos think he might find behind a shopping complex in Germiston (page 96)? A. The secret behind how Builders Warehouse boerie is made. B. Ronald McDonald dishing out handjobs. C. A crystal clear inner-city trout dam. D. The Thembisa decuplets. E. The Kruger Millions. 5. “Teronko” is Sotho for (page 36)? A. Massive rainbow trout. B. AWOL donkey. C. A solid knock in cricket. D. Jail. E. Dodgy uncle. 6. According to our Lifer Rob Caskie, on Himalayan hiking trails one is judged solely by one’s ability to (page 100) A. Walk. B. Sing love ballads. C. Fart in tune. D. Avoid avalanches.

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

1. When Ed Truter refers to ‘surface-nip-and-slides’ is he talking about… (page 26) A. The main tubes at Gqeberha’s Splash Waterworld. B. The matinee show at the legendary Golden Curtain in Newton Park. C. When you squash your bits up against the glass door of a shower. D. The tell-tale tarpon-like activity of skippies in the Swartkops River.

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

T R O U T FA R M

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The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine Issue #34

Articles inside

Pop Quiz

Lifer

THE ITCH

Pay Day

Salad Bar

PERMIT PROS

Munchies

THE BAPTISM

WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE

Wish List Fish

Chum

TERONKO

Undercurrents

Beers & Beats

High Fives