Imagine a place of quiet serene beauty, a hidden spot that's not easy to get to
but has everything you desire. A place you are dying to tell your friends about but dare not.
This is Stream X  

www.netbooks.co.za

...... "there is a big difference between a rod that casts well and a rod that fishes well". This statement must be put into context because a rod will only fish well if it is used for the right situation i.e. Horses for courses. Bearing in mind that the sole purpose of the cast is to pull the rod into a bend, and then to unload it all at the same time - I differ with your article as follows:
If an angler was fishing a small clear stream that required very short casts with a long leader of say 8ft. he will only be able to load the rod if it was a full flex rod. This rod could make shorts casts because it would bend (load) whilst aerialising very little fly line as well as enabling a delicate presentation. The same rod would still be the right rod for the situation even in windy conditions. A faster action rod would not load by aerialising the same amount of fly line and long leader. What the angler needs to do is to change his cast to cope with the wind, not the rod.

The converse situation would be that of fishing the surf zone in SA where distance and wind were major factors to consider. Here presentation and long leaders would not be a priority so a tip flex fast action rod would be the way to go. This would allow the angler to aerialise more line and load the rod by accelerating very quickly through the casting arc.
Tippets are broken by the pressure you the angler puts on the fish, not the rod. This pressure will vary by the manner with which you set the hook, the way you retrieve and the angle at which you hold the rod. In short, use the right tools for the particular task at hand.

Tom Sutcliffe shared an extract with me from a forthcoming book that sheds good light on the subject, with special relevance to fishing small streams.
He compared fishing his sage 0-weight with his Winston 2 weight and discovered that with small fish (less than 12 inches) he lands a lot more fish with the 0-weight. This is attributed to the fact that the extra weight and stiffness of the 2-weight “lifts the trout in the strike and this often pulls the hook free”. The 0-weight “‘gives’ with the fish in the strike, doesn’t lift them, and they stay hooked!” He points out that you should take careful note of this. Using lighter softer rods for smaller fish, and a stiffer heavier rod for bigger fish means better hook ups.

So there you have three important points I had left out. If you think I missed something else, please let me know.

Casting Rods vs Fishing Rods

On a recent trip to Lakenvlei I was having a chat with Tim Rolston about rods and their actions. He said a very interesting thing that had not occurred to me before, but with which I identified and had some experience with. That interesting thing was.....wait for it....hope I get this verbatim...... "there is a big difference between a rod that casts well and a rod that fishes well".
Think about that for a while.

The current trend to fish rods that are faster and faster certainly allows better distance and less fatigue for the experienced caster. I say experienced caster as a novice caster will not get the full benefit of a super fast rod, and it may actually hamper their casting. The name of the game is letting the rod do the work. Now lets assume you bought the shiniest fastest rod in the showroom and blew your kid's inheritence or school fees in the process. You take it down the lake and you get your line out far with minimal effort and you are chuffed with your 'broomstick'.

Here is the kicker, which I actually mentioned in a different context in a previous newsletter. When at Sterkfontein dam last year I managed to break off the first six fish I hooked, and blamed it mainly on the fast take-off speed of the yellowfish. But there was another factor, my rod, an expensive super fast Orvis. While this rod enabled me to cast into the teeth of a howling wind with ease, when it came to hooking a fish, there was little give in the rod, and that is partly why I lost so many fish initially. It wasn't the rods fault, it was mine; I had to get used to the rod.

If one considers that the best stream rods are quite supple for one good reason (to protect the tippet) then Tim's comment makes a lot of sense.
It is fine to aim for light fast rods, but you need to be aware that the faster the rod, the more you need to baby your tippet. If you have a slower rod, it does most of the protecting for you.

Zen and the art of fly fishing.

Fishing on ones own every now and then should be important to every angler, especially the contemplative type. Fishing with a companion has its merits, but is only when fishing solo that the 'Zen' moments occur. Fishing alone allows you to focus on what you are doing without interruption, and is hard to beat. When a solo trip coincides with one of those days when the weather is good, the breeze is upstream, the fish are willing, they love your fly and you can do nothing wrong, it is even better.

While I may not understand the true deep meaning of Zen, I believe it is that moment on the river when you are confident about your set-up and fly, you stop concentrating, stop thinking, and just be in the moment, rhythmically casting into all the right places without a concious thought. When a fish takes your fly while you are in that 'auto-pilot' mode, there is no thought process that says 'lift your rod', or 'do this', it just happens seamlessly and effortlessly.

You snap out the reverie only when the fish is tight on the line. Suddenly the world comes back into focus, your senses are heightened, the sound of the river rushes from the background, back into your ears. The light sparkles brighter off the water, and the splashes of the fish launch bright stars into the air. You sense the coolness of the water as you slide your hand down the leader to release the fly. The fish looks prettier and better proportioned than any you have ever seen, and you watch in quiet reverence as it swims back into the current.

You realise the good moment wasn't when when you hooked the fish or even when you released the fish with a spoken or inward 'thank you'. You were 'in the moment' or experiencing 'Zen' while you were fishing confidently, but more so at the moment you stopped trying to catch fish and just fished.

This is the moment when your mind is clear and you are at peace with yourself and engrossed by your surroundings, when the background sounds of the river and the birds kind of fade way into the distance; your focus is on your fly but also everywhere else at the same time. You are not moving your casting hand or arm, it is just happening; the fly is landing where your mind would say it should be if it was working. At that point you almost become a spectator to yourself from within yourself. At that moment, you are in a meditative and enlightened state and part of the environment that surrounds you. 

Isn’t that why you go fishing?

Aside from getting into the Zen moment and the Nirvāṇa it encompasses, the fishing overall was pretty good. When you pull around a dozen fish out of the first pool, things can only get better.
The thought that came to mind is that what I was experiencing was 'ZenKara' which could actually be translated from Japanese into the English phrase, 'out of Zen'. Perhaps I will make it my personal mantra while fishing Tenkara style. Certainly it was an exceptional day on the river in more ways than one, and I was pleased that I shared it with myself.

Sometimes I am grateful when I don't catch a fish

March 2011

Sometimes I am grateful not to catch a fish. Recently I went looking for smooth hound sharks with Jimmy the ‘Shark Man’. Smooth hound sharks are great fly rod quarry, as they take crab patterns and other flies quite readily. Unfortunately the demand for 'fish and chips' means that are not as common as they used to be. Unlike gulley sharks, they tend to head for open water at rapid speed once hooked, which is quite exciting. Landing them is another matter as due to their hard mouths they are seldom hooked properly and so you lose them after the first turn or two. Either that or your fly comes back to you with a mangled hook.

On this particular day there weren’t any sharks around but we did find some duck-billed rays waiting for the tide to come up so they could move into the shallows to feed. As they were in a waiting mood rather than a feeding mood they didn’t seem to ant to take a fly (yet).
Sight fishing can be quite frustrating, but on the other hand exciting, as there is no doubt as to the presence of fish.

After many casts at the moving rays, and some rapid fly changes, I got one tentative pull, but it was just that, tentative. Jimmy got a good pull on a giant specimen, but lost it on a knot, and then hooked into a medium sized ray. Medium size compared to some of the monsters that were lurking around, but big enough to have Jimmy straining with two hands on the rod and the ray heading for the horizon. If you have met Jimmy you will know he is to put it mildly, built like a brick ****house. It was at that moment I decided to reel in my line and rather film him than suffer the same fate.

It looked for a while that the ray was going to win, but slowly but surely the fly line came back from the deep, and with a huge effort it was brought to shallow water. The shallower the water got the harder it strained to head out to sea, with the fisherman and his 12 weight Echo rod being really put to the test.

Having seen these rays in the water and on photographs, one does not realise how big the ‘shoulders’ on these beasts are. They are huge, and it was no surprise then that it had been so hard to fight. After some tussling in the shadows and some nimble foot work to avoid the stinger, the ray was landed. Turns out that these are beautiful creatures.

Yah, I am glad I didn’t catch that one, it looked pretty punishing on the fisherman. And the ray, well he just swum back out like it was another day. See the video here

Tenkara Fishing

February 2011

For the first time I am writing something the day it happened. Sitting comfortably in the shade on the banks of the Holsloot river, with the events fresh in my mind.

This morning I took my daughter along, she had a standard rig and I was fishing with a Tenkara rod. Before you get that blank expression on your face, and ask, what the heck is Tenkara? let me explain.

Tenkara orginated in Japan and is becoming popular all over the world. It is just like normal flyfishing, except that you dont have a fly line or reel (Huh?), and the rods are a bit longer. Typically the Rods are 11 to 13 ft long, and instead of having to put them together piece by piece, they telescope out just like an old radio aerial, so that before they are extended, they are shorted than a four piece rod tube. They use a furled tapered leader, which is connected to the tip of the rod, and is usually about the length of the rod. To this you connect a standard tippet of about 6X and as long as you dare.

The beauty of this system is that you can cast an easy 24 to 30 feet in front of you, which is ideal for pocket water or the Cape and Eastern Cape waters. In fact it has a much longer reach than you would have fishing just the tip of your line out of the top of your rod. The cast is easy, the fly lands like a dandelion seed, and with practice, extremely accurate. What more do you want?

Back on the river it seems that my daughter was about to out fish me, but with a bit of diligence, and some experimenting with the flies, I soon caught up. After that the code was cracked and it went swimmingly (no that doesnt mean I fell in the water like I usually do).
The fly that did the damage has been featured as the fly of the month.

The simlicity of the method really appealed to me and my concern of what would happen when I caught a fish and wasnt able to pull it in the normal method was soon given the acid test. What do you do, when your line is longer than your rod, and to make it worse the weight of the fish bends the rod, taking the fish even further away. The situation was ripe for an epic comedy of errors. The the fish was given head to go either upstream or downstream keeping tension on the line. Once I 'sort of' have control, the fish was drawn towards me and into the net as it passed. If it is a small fish you can grab the line as the fish goes past, pass it to your rod hand and then grab the tippet. Slide your hand down till you have the hook, and release the fish.

After fishing some time, I took over the standard stream rod from Sarah to show how to get the fly under some bushes, and gota bit of a shock. After the elegance of the Tenkara rod, this one now felt hopelessly inadequate and clunky. It took a bit of adjusting to get back into the standard rod. Having for the first time tried one method after another, there is no doubt that the tenkara rod is going with me on future river outings.

Incidentally the tradition tenkara net differs slightly ffrom the standard one in that the it is bent at the neck, which kind of turns it into a funnel trap for the fish as it swims past. Stephen Boshoff has made a sample of one of these, and it turned out wonderfully.

This brings us back to the simplicty of the system. All you need can fit in two top pockets, and the net is simply stuck into your belt (or Obi if you are going Japanese). A perfect setup for no-clutter, stealth fishing.

Simple and efective, Tenkara is beauty, and stock is in.

See www.tenkara.co.za

Handling Rejection December 2010

"A man risks rejection as many as 150 take love" - Warren Farrell

How we handle rejection says a lot about ourselves. There are not many among us who can sustain high levels of rejection for long, as eventually we will crack. While this applies to relationships, I am actually talking about fishing.

Having a thick skin is good for a fly fisherman, chiefly because it helps us handle rejection, and also comes in handy as something to bounce hooks off. Being rejected by fish after fish, after changing fly after fly and after hundreds of presentations can be demoralising. Fishing a stream or river you can sometimes justify it - too much drag - can’t get the fly in the right spot – downwind gale, and so forth.

In a well stocked still water you know your fly has swum past a fish or two without even the slightest nibble. Or worse, they have been sucking it in and spitting it out without you even knowing. You experience rejection, but at least you are spared the visual experience of seeing it.

Now bring your imagination with me, and join me at Sterkfontein dam. Yours truly has spent a morning sitting above the water watching countless yellowfish reject his fly (or presentation). At first cruising fish were actually being alarmed by my presentation. Then as it improved the fish started to give it a wide berth, and then after much improvement it got to the point where they ignored it completely.
It was progress, but not good enough.

With some perseverance and a goof helping of patience I finally got some fish to actually move towards my fly.
OK, they had a sniff and a look then headed for the horizon at warp speed, which isn’t easy for a fish, especially when there is an opposite bank. It was far away, but I swear I saw a fish or two making their way up the hill.
Eventually a fish come up and nosed my fly, decided it wasn’t anything edible, and slowly moved on, no alarm. Joy swelled in my chest, or maybe I got that wrong. THEN, the guide called us and said we were moving to a different spot.

Finding ourselves at a spot they call North Pier, I really thought I was in the sea. The wind was howling in from the water, and waves were bashing against the cliff. Fish were moving around the point I was standing on flashing as the moved sideways to feed at my feet. Other fish were doing splashy rises out in the ‘surf’. Not a bite. Rejection sinks in as a fish rises confidently at your fly and eats something next to it. Rejection sinks in even deeper when you realise that you are being outsmarted by a fish with a brain the size of a pea. Thus day one ended with a rejective blank.

Day two had me in a different group (I think the previous group complained about my tourettes like language) with PJ Jacobs as the guide. He took us somewhere out of the wind and parked us on a steep hillside where we could see the fish cruising past. It was the perfect spot to watch fish reject your fly. After all the rejections in the dam were used up, a fish came up and took my fly, only to spit it out before I could react. The fish were nervous, I was frustrated, but I did learn that if you duffed your cast and the fly landed behind the fish with a plop, they would turn around and investigate.

Having two anglers on either side of me was problably putting the fish on high alert before they got to me, so it was time to move. Far!
After finding a good spot which was relatively windless, I ate my lunch on the hill above so I could see how the fish were moving. There was a nice point between two small streams where the fish were being forced to go shallow and close to the bank.
Flattening a spot in some tall grass, I put on my gillie suit, made a parting in the grass for my rod and was almost invisible to the fish who would pass less than a rod length away.

The bonus was a large rock, which I could use for hiding my cast. The fish would swim past me on the left, go behind the rock and I would cast ahead of the rock, a perfect system. So perfect that I managed to lose five fish in a row, the last one being at least a metre long.
From rejection to acceptance, bliss filled my soul, but hang on…..I still hadn’t landed a fish!

For those of you who haven’t fished at Sterkfontein before, you are in for a surprise. When the fish feel the hook they accelerate at the pace of a rocket sled, so if you don’t do it right (like try and strip strike or lift your rod) it’s ‘good bye fly it was nice tying you’.
After those five, I finally hooked and landed the first one, a nice long sleek Sterkfontein smallmouth yellowfish. They don’t surrender easily.

The next day went much better, I kept myself invisible, made sure my tippet sank , followed all the rules and I was rewarded with good fish. If you haven’t been to Sterkfontein, put it on your bucket list. Going with the TCCF team or to one of the Tourettes challenges is recommended, as a boat is essential (a big one), and a guide indespensible.

Thanks to Tempest Car Hire who got me to Sterkfontein in a brand new Nissan.

Expectations November 2010

When one sets out for a fishing weekend, one always has expectations. Big ones or small ones, but nonetheless expectations. Unchecked, these can get out of hand, like the memory of a large fish that keeps growing in your mind.
Heading out to Clanwilliam Dam, (a venue with clanwilliam yellowfish, largemouth bass, vlei kurper, smallmouth bass and bluegill sunfish) my expectations where gearing up. Would I be able to catch one of each species, especially the clanwilliam yellow? In my mind it seemed easy, but on the water it was a different matter.

A comnination of excess expectations and a lack of strategy on unfamiliar water was sure to dissapoint. (Note to self: 'Tone down expectations). When confused, the shotgun (desperation) approach is popular. Which fly will appeal to five fish?
The woolly bugger of course! But temptation was short lived an a medium size gurgler thrown at the margins. It was attacked relentlessly by small sunfish, which at best could only hold onto the tail for a bit of a wild ride. No bass of any description.

In a fit of capitulation a small white flipper was tied on, and, as I observed Sean Mills, cast it out, twitched it and waited. Attack, attack, attack and finally a hook-up, the great-grandson of a miniscule sunfish was on the line. Wishing I had a magnifying glass to see it, it was released. Lots of small sunfish came in and every now an then a school of bigger ones were encountered, but nothing that wouldn’t fit in a pocket.

The dam was scoured for largemouth habitat and each spot carefully and thouroughly fished, but nothing.
The tally at the end of the day was more than a hundred sunfish between the fisherman, and no bass. Well that is partially true as the lone fisherwoman (Denise Hills) had caught two bass right in front of her camp. No boat, no float tube, but two bass.

Fresh and early the next morning while the wind was still and the water like glass, I searched the margins looking for those elusive bass, eventually finding them by applying grey matter. A small channel around a point looked like a cruising lane or concentration point (see previous newsletter about Lakenvlei) so I sat there waiting. It wasn’t long before my fly was ignored by a pair of smallmouth bass and later three largemouth bass.

With the temperature was heading towards 40 and with me turning bright red, it was time for breakfast and some sun lotion.
Returning to the spot with one rod rigged with a nice popper and the other with a sinking line and large woolly something, I waited until two largemouth appeared. The smaller of the two had a go at the popper, but got off pretty quickly.

Quickly tossing the popper out again, it was one pop, two pop, Smash! The bigger bass exploded out of the water and had the popper well into in its mouth. After a quick run, and some heart rendering head shaking jumps, we were both pumped full of adrenalin. I was beyond excited. Gaining some line on the fish, it headed around the boat, over the anchor line, then changed its mind and headed back under the anchor line, then headed straight out. Excitement gave way to trepidation, as I was now fighting a fish and an anchor in a three way split.
The leader was threatening to split and so was my heart, but somehow I got the fish in the net.

It seems that the camera too must have had a dose of adrenalin as it was shaking as badly as I was. The best option was to put the fish in the (straining) net and back into the water while the camera regained its exposure, and me my composure.

Flies Fish Hate

The WPLJ (last months fly) is an effective fly in stillwater, but has never been put to the test in a river.
After fishing a beat a few weeks ago, I decided to try it out on the way back. Just below a wier, there is a big deep pool, and standing above the wier I cast downstream. Letting the current move the flyline and without a retrieve, a customer was expected pretty soon. But nothing, not even a tire kicker. After experimenting with a number of retrieves and different parts of the pool, there still wasn't even a car in the carpark.
Being of stubborn disposition I moved to the side of the pool, and did a 'drown and across' thing. This is where it got interesting.
The multiple currents made a few curves in the line, and my line went out from the rod & curved back towards me with the fly close and visible. A trout swam up to the fly, picked it up, swam away, then spat it out. And I didnt feel a thing on the line!

This is wake up call time, as in don't make assumptions. The assumption was that because the current is causing the curves in the line, the line is relatively 'tight' and you will feel the takes. NO WAY!
LESSON: If you are downstream nymphing, keep the line as short as you can. Rather hide away than use a long line.
Something else I noticed was the fly was swimming a little hook down, which it wasn't supposed to do. This was because I had used a down-eye hook instead fo a straight-eye, so watch out for that.

After shortening the line, I got a bass, after which my attention was drawn to two trout at the tail of the pool who were in the perfect position for me to see their reaction to the fly. My cast spooked the one, but the other followed the fly until I ran out space, never touching it.
In a lower pool I hooked a few, but the real action came later in a faster run, where the same fish attacked it three times without getting hooked. As the fly went upstream past the fish it would wait a while then dash furiously at the fly, attacking it with gusto.
Vindication was mine, the fish absolutely hate this fly! Especially in fast water.

Now this is a good thing, beacuse they attack flies they hate, rather than given them the nose up haughty disdain they reserve for some of our dry flies. The fish further downstream hated it too, even one rather large bass, but unfortunately the hook up to landing ratio was very poor, something that would be remedied by straightening the eye.

Last weekend found me guiding on the Holsloot during the CPS river festival, and with high water things werent easy for anyone.
It was the perfect day for the WPLJ, but it seems it never got put back in the box after it had its squint corrected.


On a different subject, while reseraching the fly of the month, I came across this quote by Jeremy Lucas, (ex-Egland international FF) who was a controller at the 2010 world champs, and I just have to repeat it.

"I watched outstanding performances out there. The three podium teams, Czech, France & Slovakia, were awesome, but then all the top ten teams (out of 28) were exceptional, and most especially the three non-European teams who made it to this level. South Africa, New Zealand and Australia. Without a doubt, for teams with little experience of grayling, on Europes top grayling river, against all the crack European teams, to be able to make it into the top elite ten is incredible." Jeremy Lucas - FlyFishing & FlyTying Magazine October 2010

Doesnt that make you proud of our team. (We came in 5th)! And when last were you referred to as a non-European :-)

The World's Biggest Fly

Sept 2010
Firstly, thanks to all those who participated in our open day. We didn't manage to break any casting records, but we did tie the world's biggest fly.

Well, the biggest that can actually be cast. A full report and pictures are available here. The pic on the left shows Denton Ingham-Brown, who created the fly, giving it the final trim. It measured a wopping 2,2m and we managed a best cast of 10m (12,2 if you add the length of the fly).

Judging by the number of kids, we will have to have a jumping castle next year, and someting to entertain the wives. The

Staking your claim

It always pays to find a spot on a stillwater that looks like its going to yield fish. In a stillwater, fish generally cruise looking for food. Rainbow trout covering the water on a horizontal plain, and browns in a vertical plain as they are sort of territorial.

When approaching a stillwater, look for areas that are likely to hold fish.

Clear water. If the water is clear, find edges of weedbeds and drop offs. Fish are more confortable feeding in these areas, as they have escape routes at hand in case of trouble. They can hide in the weed, or bolt for deeper water. Structure like submerged trees also provide cover. During a recent trip to Bo-vlakte I found a relatively shallow area with a drop off and could see what looked like submarines swimming below me. Anchoring upwind from the drop off I used a large dry with a 'Weena' below it and cast it near the drop off. All I had to do was make myself comfortable and watch the dry. A few minutes later I hooked a very hook jawed and red trout, my 'fish of the trip'.

In murky water, where drop offs & weed beds cannot be seen, look at the bank edges where there are reeds or other water plants. There is food there, and the fish know it.

Another tool is to use the topography to guide you. A steep slope on the bank usually means that the slope continues under the water.
One of my favourite spots is a spit heading out into the water. Fish cruising the banks will have to go around it, and it also 'traps' fish swimming further out, as they too will need to go around it.
Warning. Try not to go onto it if you can, all you will do is scare the fish away. I usually place my flies on the downwind side, casting past the spit and then retrieving towards it. There is usually a form of drop off where fish tend to concentrate, and there is the added advantage of surface food being concentrated and blown aroud the tip.
There is a nice example at Lakenvlei, to the right of the hut, where I have seen many fish taken.

If you find a good spot, stick with it, the fish will come. There is no need to wander all over the bank looking for fish that will find you.

The world's biggest flyfishing fly? Streamx & Co have tied the biggest fly that can be cast!
For pictures, a video & details go here
Aug 2010

Pushing the envelope

or smashing through the boundary

There is often debate about what constitutes fly fishing and what doesn’t. On the one hand there are the dry fly purists who disdain anything other than a dry fly on a stream or river. On the other side of the railway tracks are the blue water boys, who chum and tease huge fish into a frenzy and then casually lob a fly into the ensuing melee.
While both extremes use fly rods, fly reels and flies the situation is far from clear cut, as there are no clear rules. It’s a kind of democratic anarchy, as the rules are largely followed, but every man fishes according to his own personal dictates. This situation has allowed fly fishing to evolve from the dry fly only chalkstream fishermen, to the various aspects it encompasses today. All species in the world are now targeted, some more successfully than others, but that makes it a challenge, which in turn makes it more attractive.

These are the thoughts that occupied my mind as I wolfed down four cans of anchovies in the early hours one morning. It may seem to be a strange preparation for my first snoek (Thyristes atun) fishing trip, but prudence dictated that should a heaving sea cause a heaving stomach, my efforts would not be wasted. Thus my early morning brain stumbled upon the first question of fly fishing ethics. If I were to lose my breakfast, it wouldn’t really be chumming. Really! It could also be considered 'catch & release'.

The second question was more complicated. The fly rod and fly reel were safe from scrutiny, but what about my line? Twenty five meters of braid, connected to a six meter head of Rio T17 (that’s a 10 inch per second sinking rate) may not have been an out of the box fly line, but it was probably safe. This line sinks like a brick, especially with a saltwater DDD fly attached. (The saltwater DDD, with apologies to the original DDD, is a large Clouser pattern 4/0 to 6/0, with enormous dumbbell eyes). It was named “Denton’s Deadly Diver” after the man who ‘invented’ the eyes and pointed out that it had the potential to cause serious harm to the back of a skull, as well as sinking like a sack of hammers.

This was a perfect morning for fishing, a calm sea and a whimper of wind. The good ship "Double Haul" made good time to Buffels bay. My rod was quickly rigged and my ‘line’ castt into the water. It sank like it should have, and within moments of getting the fly down, and before starting the long strips, the line started moving away.
No smashing take. Just a reassuring solid pull. I said “Ooooh”, the fish speeded up and pulled harder. A louder “OOOOH”, this was fun. With the 10 weight rod bent to its limit we had a bit of a tug of war, followed by a few to-and fro's. This fish wasn’t giving up easily.
With some good advice from Captain DDD, the fish was soon boated, almost a meter of flashy silver with some serious dentition and a kak attitude.

The rest of the morning went well, with a lot of fish lost off the hook. Having a seriously sharp hook was essential, and having a hook hone even more important. [Tip of the Day: Keep your hooks sharp, and your wits sharper]
Despite using a mono (100lb Sufix) shock tippet, only one fish broke it off, just as it got to the surface. For the most part the fish were swallowing the Saltwater DDD’s deep, so the tippet was severely tested. One of Captain DDD's fish had the flash of the fly sticking out of it's gills.

The mere suggestion that this is flyfishing, may cause pain in some quarters. When snoek fishing on fly is broken down to its basest components, it is really vertical jigging with fly tackle. It was not nearly as efficient as the commercial guys with bait, but it was immense fun, and no matter what side of the tide you sit, flyfishing.
This is where it gets worse. At some point someone suggested that treble hooks would be a lot more effective (as would barbed hooks). That may well sound like flyfishing blasphemy, yet trebles are quite common when fly fishing a salmon stream.

So where do YOU draw the line?



July 2010
Lessons in clear water

Being able to see how fish are reacting to your flies can be quite instructional, but finding such a place, (outside the two oceans aquarium) is quite difficult. Being allowed to fish in the abovementioned aquarium is almost impossible, and being invited to fish crystal clear still waters comes once a lifetime.

Early August found ‘yours truly’ comfortably ensconced* on the bank of a pretty awesome piece of water, the crystal clear dams below the ‘uber’ comfortable lodge at Fizantakraal.
Yes, it’s ‘that’ Fizantakraal, the one you need to hock your Ferrari, and leave your wife &kids as surety in the banks’ vault to visit. Fortunately I was the guest of some generous hosts, so I still have my wife and children.

But I digress. Finding yourself faced by a good number of quite large trout, all plainly visible, makes you feel like a kid in a candy shop, thus the simple task of tying on a fly was made difficult due to the excited tremble in my hands. Choosing a fly was another matter, but I settled on the foam-backed damsel featured last month, with a bead head Charlie behind it.

After casting out a short-ish line, my fly settled down in ambush. Waiting till a fish was swimming towards it, a tantalising twitch had a trout suddenly accelerate, and without pausing, open it’s mouth and chomp the fly. Giving the fish a bit of head, it took that head towards an island, with the probable intention of going around or hiding behind it.
It was time to turn on the brakes. By now all free line was gone and the drag on my super-mega-extra large arbour of my new Wychwood reel was slowing it down.
Then, as in a lot of my fishing encounters, disaster struck as the fish turned. The line lost tension for a second as the hook came out, and then čárymáry!, there was a bigger stronger fish on the line.
Being a practical fellow, I ignored the how or why and settled down to tame this monster, impatient to get it closer and see how many meters it measured. Eventually after a bit of to and fro, the fish came closer, I got my net ready…..hauw!....this funny fish was swimming backwards towards me.
It seems that as the fish threw the hook, the point fly got it on the tail. It could of course, actually have been a different fish altogether, an ‘innocent bystander’ fish, caught by a speeding hook.

*Ensconced: To settle (oneself) securely or comfortably. (Yes, I did look this one up, because I knew the word fitted, but needed to make sure it was correct

Continues.....

Watching how fish react to your fly in clear water is a real eye opener. I had imagined the moment years before next to a ‘no-fishing’ sign in the aquamarine rivers of the Azusa River in Japan. Watching large, very pretty fish interact and feed, thinking how they would react to my fly was torture in a way, but I enjoyed it anyway.

What I learned at Fizantakraal, was that different fish react differently to the same fly. If my fly was in a situation where three or more fish in its vicinity, there was no competitive rush for the fly. One fish might casually swim over and give it a once over before mouthing it. More commonly, the furthest fish (or one I hadn’t seen) would rush in and grab. The disinterest shown by the closer fish may have been because they weren’t hungry, or because they were aware of me, but I suspect it was my presence. However, one should bear in mind that while your fly may turn one fish on, that may not apply to the others in the same water. Thus, if you know there are fish and you have caught one and not more, it may be time to change fly, tactics or retrieve.

The second thing I noticed was how the retrieve affected their willingness to take a fly.
Many times a fish would follow the fly but not commit to it. If this happened, either slowing it down, pausing or speeding it up would get that commitment. But it wasn’t the same every time. Thus, the experts are not talking bull when they tell you to vary your retrieve, so it is advice best heeded. Often I will forget exactly what my retrieve was doing in the excitement of hooking a fish, and I think that once I start concentrating on this; my catch rate will go up.

“Always retrieve your fly as if there is a fish behind it”. Where exactly I heard this, or who said it has been lost to me, but it is advice worth heeding. Perhaps the retrieve is more important than the fly itself?
If you move your fly as though there is a fish behind it, ready to pounce when you get the retrieve right, you will catch more fish, guaranteed*

*Money back guarantee. If you fish with a varying retrieve and you can prove that it is less effective than a boring old strip-strip-strip-strip, then I will refund what you paid for this newsletter.

Eating Humble Pie

June 2010

Being humbled is never a pleasant experience, but when you get three humbles in a day, well that's something to really cringe about.
Saturday the 5th of June sees yours truly at Jonkershoek for a Bells event to raise money for the SA Team for the Commonwealths in Wales. Tagging along were some of the new Wychwood rods & reels to try out, and a while into the 1st session a few fish have been landed including one of the 10lb hogs that were stocked just before the event. Charl Hamilton of Jonkeshoek ambles over for a chat, and we are talking about the new kit and he asks how easy it is to change the cassettes on the new reel.

So, I stop retrieving, pop off the spool, show how its done and don't put the the spool back on properly. It drops into the water, I pick it up, put it back properly, and finish retrieving my line which has just been lying in the water. The moment the line moves a fish takes the fly and my eyes go big. Yes, big with surprise... and big because they needed to be bigger to see the big fish. "Oh, thats one of the biggest ones" says Charl casually. The big fish shows its back and its really big, so massive I need to open my eyes even wider. Eish, then the sad part. It decides it wants to be at the other side of the dam in a hurry and I was not prepared. It pulled the rod almost flat and "ping", the 2x tippet gives way. My eyes kind of loose their shine, go dim. My stomach grumbles and I need to eat a humble pie.

The day wears on, the sun gets warm, there is not a breath of wind or the breath of a trout on any of my flies. We have a break for lunch and carry on fishing. The fishing is slow with a fish rarely coming out, and certainly none on my line. With a new fancy flybox filled to the brim with pretty flies, brand new tackle, a Teeny line on loan from the agent, and a dam full of fish, I cannot raise even a minnow. Hell, if it wasn't for the odd weed on my fly on occasion I would be weeping. I grumble, my stomach grumbles, time to eat the second humble pie.

Ian Lourens decides to have a throw, even though he is more of a beneficiary than an entrant. Five casts later he has four fish. I eat another humble pie. "Have you paid to fish here?" I ask him. The answer is negative so I suggest politely that he refrains from making us all look like monkeys. Ok, I actually told him to $@!& off. It seems that to fish competitively you need something special. Ian seems to have it in buckets (unless he has a secret flavourant).

The prizes are handed out, but there isn't one for the biggest loser.

Team Work

May 2010
If I use the term 'Team Work' in the context of fly fishing, what goes through your mind?
Perhaps a bunch of testosterone fuelled men, flogging away at the water a huge ego's distance apart from each other?
Perhaps the question, how do fly fishertrons* fish as a team?
Whatever comes to mind, its not what I have in mind today. But before I get to the point (fly) my 1st statement couldn't be further from the bank. Competitive fishertrons are usually found less than an arms distance apart in a cramped inflatable, and while there are some huge egos, its not the norm. And (don't ask me how) they do fish as a team with a strategy.

Back to the point. When I refer to 'team work' it means using flies as a team. This is much neglected technique, especially amongst those new to the sport. We are all familiar with a 'dry and dropper', but have you ever tried a 'dry and dry' or reversed the 'dry and dropper'? On the UK stillwaters, fishing a single fly is almost unheard of, as flies are usually fished in teams of three, sometimes even more (This is not restricted to stillwater, as a team of wets or soft hackles can be deadly in the local streams). Dries are mixed with wets, floating flies are fished on sinking lines and all kinds of blasphemy occurs. If you want to learn more, a good source is 'Trout Fisherman' Magazine as well as our book of the month below.

So, if you are not catching, experiment a little, live a lot. *waiter - waitress - waitron therefore fisherman - fisherwomen - fishertron. It beats 'Fisherperson', even though it sounds robotic, but sometimes fishing can look that way.

Fishing Weather

April 2010 Well, it doesn't seem like it, but a year has passed since StreamX opened it's doors.
So, happy birthday to us, and thanks to you for your support over these twelve months.

Recently, I was reminded of the difference between good fishing weather vs. good catching weather.
Those windless days of fishing in warm balmy sunshine are great for being outdoors, but usually lead to spooky fish and low catch rates. Conversely, a windy and rainy day with freezing fingers and iced up line guides can be excellent for catching, no matter how uncomfortable we are. The underwater environment is a lot more stable that ours. For one, it's always wet, and secondly the temperature changes are quite mild compared to what happens on the surface. So why do fish go off the feed then?
Most scientifically minded anglers will tell you about barometric pressure and time of day, and can wax lyrical on these subjects.
To us simple fisher-folk the barometric pressure thing remains somewhat of a mystery, but the time of day is easy.
We all know that catching is better in the early morning and evening because the fish tend to be on the feed, and the reason is easy. It's the light levels, fish are 'feel' safer. So when its bad fishing weather, but good catching weather, it just means that the light level is optimum for the fish.

Know Your Quarry
March 2010
Last Sunday morning I took a quick trip up the road to the Hillcrest Quarry (Hillcrest Durbanville, not KZN) for two reasons. Firstly, I hadn't had a chance to test the new Orvis Hydros rod, and secondly, just to check the place out.
It turns out the rod casts like an absolute dream, and it had me casting like the stuff you see in movies, with minimal input. By that I mean it didn't require muscle power for long casts, as it loads itself and does the work for you. To me, the closest comparison is the Orvis Helios and the TFO Axiom. The only problem is going back to my own rod.
As for Hillcrest (just so you know), its a quarry with fish and no frills. There is lots of back cast space though.
On the way in is a restaurant where you pay your day ticket of R75.00 and could enjoy a decent lunch, or you could picnic or braai on the lawn at the quarry. The gate opens at 9am and closes at 5pm :-(
There are plenty of smallmouth bass which are relatively easy to catch, and the odd large rainbow trout, which on the day were taking blown terrestrials off the top. After smugly beating the pants off the spin fisherman with the smallmouth it was time to have a go at the rainbows, so I slowly made my way to a spot where there was a regular rise, only to have a spin fisherman waltz past me, stand on a big rock and scare the fish away.

Eventually the guy left and after a while the fish started showing itself again. Tip one. If you are going after largemouth bass or any fish, throw all your other fly boxes in your rucksack anyway. This idiot didn't bring any dry fly!
Staying with the Xstarossa (red headed damsel - see last months fly) I had on, I patiently waited for the fish to come a little closer. And closer it did, a little further than a rod length. The fly was in position, waiting. The fish moved closer. A little twitch and the fish changed direction. One more twitch and it opened its mouth and sucked it in.
Lift and pull, and a very nice size rainbow was on, then off.
It was immediately apparent why the fish got off, and so here is the lesson.
You will find you lose a lot of fish when they are close and take the fly, simply because we are conditioned to lift and strip strike.
There is nothing wrong with this, but we should be aiming for the sweet spot, the scissor. The top of the mouth is a bit bony, and doesn't hold a hook nearly as well as the lip or scissor. What I should have done was move my rod towards the rear of the fish instead of upwards. So bear that in mind, especially when sight fishing at close quarters. You will land more fish.

Self Releasing Flies
February 2010
After arranging a weekends camping on the Holsloot, I left booking a beat too late and ended up with nothing. Thus I had to get creative about where I was going to fish. Saturday morning saw me on a very smooth patch of water. Not a ripple was on the glassy surface, a slight breeze blew upstream and ahead of me a decent fish was busy with some noisy splashes. The perfect opportunity to try out my new 12ft tapered leader and test some new flies. After a while the ratio was 3 misses for every fish hooked and it was getting worse. Fish would rise up out of nowhere, take the fly confidently and go down with it. As soon as I tightened up the line, the fly would come out of the fishes mouth. It had me baffled, but I soon found out why.....

As mentioned earlier, I had a problem. Confident takes were not converting to solid hook ups, and it had me baffled. The fly and tippet setup must have been right (btw the 12ft leader was performing like a dream) otherwise the fish would have not taken so confidently. A single fish would take the same fly three times before ignoring it. I had hooked up in a tree sometime during this baffling stage, and I knew that the fly actually had a hook point, so that wasn't it.

Then I did what I should have done after every take, examine the fly and leader! It turns out that the tippet wrapped around the bend of the hook in a neat knot, just after the straight shank. In essence, what I had was the perfect hook removing setup, catch and release in its ultimate form. Any pressure on the line would pull the hook straight out!
Lesson: Regularly check your terminal setup, especially after a take or catching a fish.
You may be missing half your hook, have a great knot like mine, have a knot in your tippet or leader, or may find a frayed bit of line that needs replacing.

Part 2

If you are prepared to bear with me, I also encountered an odd phenomenon.

Small black mayflies are hatching as they regularly do in the Holsloot environs through most of the late summer, and the fish are keyed onto these, with splashy rises. Now when there are splashy rises going on, we as fisherman tend to key onto them as well.
However, having thrown a largish selection of my best mayfly imitations at these splashy fish, the conversion rate I was expecting, just wasn't coming through. Thus a momentary pause with a bunch of thinking was in order.
While watching the bulbuls, robins and flycatchers flit across the water to claim their share of the mayflies, and watching the cripples float by, my eye caught the faint movement of a fish just under the surface, coming up and creating a barely perceptible ripple.
The Aha moment!
Changing to a small black bodied Klinkhamer, with a sparse starling feathered soft hackle below, I threw my lot ahead of me.
Ignored..... Ignored...... Sloop, the klinky disappeared and I tightened up into a fish on the soft hackle..
OK, I had the combo, but after a few more goes the fish started taking the klinky, but were rejecting it immediately.
Mmm, I think the dropper fly is putting them off, so it gets removed.
NOTHING, nada, not a sausage. The fly is ignored completely and utterly, I cannot raise a fish!
Mmmm again. Perhaps the dropper was acting as some kind of attractor, so it gets put back on, and.. you guessed it, the klinky becomes a target again. Sadly, like the first time it gets rejected at the last second.
By now I finished the long smooth section, and there is broken water ahead and time to change tactics.
Despite the rejections, I did foul hook one fish with the dropper, so perhaps even that is a reason for having it on :-)
But I am not sure about the dropper attractor thought (can't call it a theory), as there may be other reasons, it turned the fish on.
Could be that it affected the drift of the klinky in such a way that made it more attractive, or anything else you could imagine...

Part 3

When your wife or partner sends you out to go and catch a fish for supper, and you come home via the fish shop...
don't leave your cell phone in the fish shop, you will get bust. As did "x" this week.


Lost in Translation
January 2010 If you aren't sick of it yet, complaints of the season to you, and may 2010 be a plentiful year, both piscatorial and fiscatorial.

While researching Japanese methods of flyfishing, I came across these gems, courtesy of Google Translate, and just had to share them with you.
"This DVD was taken to disturb you at your home"
"Tying to stimulate your mind and live with a sense of delivery and plenty of neat conjuring."
"Described confusing while I repeat, step by step, we'll roll."
"Tying is so close-up shot from the perspective of teachers and can be found in the feeling of being wrapped around yourself like a fly."
OK, I guess its just as funny the other way around.

For those of you who don't know, there has been a sudden appearance of brown trout in the Smalblaar river. They just suddenly appeared a few months ago and how they got there is still under debate.
But, they are there, and here is pic of my first one early this month.

Be the Fish

November 2009 "Think like a fish, BE the fish" - Tom Donaldson

What fish think has always been a subject of much conjecture. Most agree that they don't think but rather, just react.
Imagine for a moment that fish could not only think, but talk as well. Indulge me here as my imagination runs riot.

After the last evening rise on full moons nights, the local Holsloot male trout get to together in their local hole to discuss the finer points of spawning, and hens with big, white edged pectoral fins. Now they don't exactly come in for a drink, so perhaps their local pub is a nice pool header with frothy white bubbles which combined with moonlight, serve as lighting and a nice pint of 'air'.

One particularly splendid evening one trout turns to other and asks about his day. Did he see any good pecs?. And how's that awesome caddis hatch just after sunset. His buddy replies that something very unusual happened today. It must have been something weird, because his eyes are a bit sunken, and that's the 4th pint of 'air' he's had. He doesn't quite want to talk about it, but eventually he is cajoled into talking after his 6th pint, because he is starting to feel a bit light headed, and getting quite bouyant.

"It happened like this" he said. "I was calmly finning in the shade under a bubble line, taking a mixed bag of food that came past when I spotted a nice fat Caddis fly. The fact that it was daytime didn't enter my mind and without thinking I rose to take it. from there on things went a bit kooky. Instead of me swallowing it, it BIT ME!"
Now his mate looks at him with a sceptical left eye, and asks if perhaps it wasn't a wasp.
"No ways, I didn't say sting, I said BITE! This thing bit and held on, so I moved towards a rock to squash it.
Next thing it wont let me near the rock, but starts pulling me to the surface.

Now his mate turns towards him and looks at him with two sceptical eyes. "Bird Crap!" he says.
"Serious, it did. And it gets worse". He pauses for effect, and then with a panicky, slightly high pitched voice he said. "Not only did it pull me to the surface, it tried to pull me out of the water! So I fought back, I couldn't let a small caddis get the better of me. After heading for deep water with some current I had him. Well, I thought so, but then he started heading upstream. Unbelievable!"

"It got worse, I thought that if I gave it head and then suddenly turned, using the current, he would let go. Not only did he not let go, he pulled me out of the water, and threw me into a WWF-like double somersault and I landed on my back. This really P'd me off and I gave it stick. But for every move it had a counter move, when I zigged, it zagged, when I ducked it draked. My mind baffled. How is it possible to be bested by such a small thing, how could it be so strong? Next thing I see, is one of those big creatures with a stick, and I am being dragged towards it, so the adrenalin kicks in and off I go, beating the caddis this time. But it is to strong for me and I am starting to tire. Soon I am heading for the big thing and I cannot resist anymore."

His mate is now starting to wonder how he got out of all this alive, and listens, as he continues his saga.
"Life was really looking grim, I can't shake off this bug, and suddenly I am surrounded by mesh and lifted out the water. The caddis doesn't let go, but it isn't pulling me any more. The mesh lowers back into the water, but I am trapped, with nowhere to go.
The big thing is extending a claw towards me and I can't escape. The claw comes closer, I wriggle and struggle but the claw goes around my belly. Today is my last I think. Once the predator, now the prey.
Another claw moves towards my mouth, and to my surprise, grabs and squishes the caddis, which lets go. The other claw moves me out of the cage and into the current and holds me while I get a good breath in. Perhaps it wants its food as fresh as possible.
Then, as I think I am breathing my last.......the claw gently lets go and lets me escape"

His friend is speechless. He continues.
"I learned two important lessons today. Don't chow daytime caddis flies with bright pink heads, as they are 'moerse' strong. And those big things with sticks. No need to be afraid of them".

Kaaimansgat

October 2009

Early October seemed like a great time to explore the Kaaimansgat. Roughly translated the name means 'river hole' or 'crocodile hole' but it was unlikely that we would find anything with the capacity to bite off a leg. This of course didn't deter my fishing partner* from putting on full armour, which includes hockey shin pads on the back and front of his legs.
* For the purpose of this blog the name of Eben Fourie will remain shameless.

There are two options for getting in to this river. The first is busting your way through a few hundred metres of bush and dead trees from where the 'Kaai' joins the Holsloot. As the high water pushes debris down the river, it neatly arranges it so that it is all pointing towards you, so the going is tough. Just to add to your misery there are some deep wading section here too.
The second option is up and over the saddle to the right of the river. Wearing felt soled boots is not recommended as the slopes are steep and grassy, and bum slides are not uncommon. The Hakea bushes at the top aren't much of a help either.

But once you are over the 'hump' the river bush thins out and you are faced with a lovely clear stream.
Left: An essential piece of equipment for the Holsloot, Kaaimansgat and some other nameless rivers in the Cape is a small bow saw. It's even handier for those who follow. Right: Eben fishes a picturesque piece of water.
Below: Eben packs out the kettle and brews us a cuppa


As nice and inviting as the water looked, the fish still seemed to be scarce, and by lunch time the creels were still empty so we had no fish to eat. Some backup sandwiches did the trick, but the real treat was fresh cup of genuine 'moer' coffee. There are probably some other 'tricks' in that bag of Eben's, but I thought it rude to ask for details..

It must have been the whiff of coffee beans, but something brought the fish out after lunch. Whether they had just been elusive or whether there just were no fish lower down is a mystery, but further up there were fish. Not big ones, but fish.

Above: Eben cradles a small parr marked rainbow.


Left & below: The Blogroller with another small rainbow. If you look carefully at the picture on the left you will notice there is actually a person.

All in all a hot day out, with not too many fish to show for it. Will I go back?
For sure, the upper parts look even nicer and beg exploring. It will also be nice to compare the fishing over a few day trips. Rumour also has it that access in future is going to be a little easier. So much so that this is now CPS Holsloot Beat 7.

Big Fish
"If you can lie, you can steal" - Anon

We are all quite aware that fish grow, some at a fantastical rate. But no fish grow as fast as the "fish of the mind".
You are probably confused about that statement, but let me clarify. A few months ago I had the privilege of catching a monster rainbow at Lakenvlei on an experimental fly. It wasn't the usual 5 pound big fish the lake produces, but was more likely a 10 pounder. Now this fish was bent over in my net, with both the head and tail sticking out, and when I manhandled it out of the net my hands couldn't go around its girth. That's how big it was, most likely a record for the lake if hadn't escaped before I could see how much wider it was than the float tube.
Now the point is that this was a very big fish, but every time I think about it, it gets bigger. No doubt it also increases in size when I talk about it. The truth is that since I caught it, it has actually physically grown bigger, so is my imagination spot on, or exaggerating a bit. And is unintentional exaggeration a lie?

Hellkom
September 2009

Sometimes you think your job is a really bad one, until you notice someone else who has it really bad. The lady who works at Hellkom who has to keep repeating "Thank you for your patience, our operators are all busy" takes the cake though. Ah, but you are thinking that its just a recorded message, but that's not true. Yesterday while listening to her for many hours, I got a bit impatient and yelled at her. There was a pause and then......"Thank you for your ...". Now that is professionalism in the face of adversity. She just sucked it up, wiped a tear and carried on working. Such dedication is only found among fly fisherpersons. Now I know what she does in her spare time.

Our open day has come and gone, thanks to all of you who attended, and to those who assisted or tied flies. Feedback from those who attended has been very positive, and the casting challenge was singled out as being a lot of fun. Prize winners have been listed below, so if you weren't at the draw, check the list, you may have a prize to claim. A big thanks to the sponsors who provided prizes. Stealth, Xplorer, Orvis & Boston Breweries.
Casting Challenge Draw
Stealth Deep Red Rod DR8835 8'8 3WT 5 piece Xplorer Eclipse Reel, Orvis Line & Backing.
Grant Thom
Lucky Draw
Float Tube - Steven Finnemore, Stealth Cassette 1 reel - James Shamley, Casting by Left Kreh - Jason Reeks, Buff Original - Ivan Shamley, Headlamp - Darryl Lampert, LED Lantern - R.B. Martin
Fly Box - Justin Fullstone, Rod Stealth Traveller 3WT - Kathy Reekes, Orvis stripping basket - Jarryd de Laaf, Boston Signature Glasses - Louis van Zyl, Boston Ale - Hanlie Kotze'

Tourettes Fishing

July 2009

After seeing a T-shirt that said "I don't have tourettes*, you really are a @#%" it came to mind that perhaps most fly fishermen suffer from this syndrome (I am excluding ladies here on purpose). Fly fishing is a tranquil sport, and you find its devotees around quiet streams and still waters. So it does come as a bit of shock when these gentlemen, after losing a fish suddenly blurt out the most terrible language. Neither the fish, the water, the tackle, the mother-in-law or anything else in sight are spared being sworn at. This is sometimes accentuated by the 'throwing of the rod' ritual. Makes you wonder about these 'gents'.

(C) Copyright belongs to Netbooks CC t/a Stream X 2009 (R) Stream X is a registered trademark of Netbooks CC