The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine Issue #11

ISSUE 11 SEPT | OCT 2018

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ROLF NYLINDER, THE 40-YEAR-OLD VIRGIN, WITH JUNGLE FEVER, FATTIES, BEERS, BEATS & MORE

experience counts for everything

T&T Advisor Camille Egdorf McCormick divides her time between Montana and Alaska when not hosting trips around the globe. Guiding since she was a teenager, Camille’s experience and insight helps us to approach rod design with a unique perspective.

Her knowledge, expertise, and understanding are passed to our craftsmen, who strive for perfection and uncompromising performance in every rod we make.

To us, Camille and her fellow professionals are our unsung heroes. We salute you.

introducing the new award winning zone series, 3 through 10 weight, uncompromising quality. legendary performance.

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T H E R O D YO U W I L L E V E N T UA L LY OW N

www.thomasandthomas.com HANDMADE IN AMERICA

W W W. T H E M I S S I O N F LY M A G . C O M ISSUE 11 SEPT / OCT 2018

CONTENTS Cover image: 62-year-old Andy Coetzee prospecting for his beloved Maputaland GTs in Fatties & Mombakkies (page 58) Photo Jazz Kuschke

16 UNDERCURRENTS: FAKES & LADDERS With Tudor Caradoc-Davies 26 HIGH 5S With Nic Schwerdtfeger 32 THE 40-YEAR-OLD VIRGIN Warwick Leslie goes from zero to flats hero in 365 days 42 JUNGLE FEVER With MC Coetzer in Gabon 56 THE WORLD ACCORDING TO ROLF With Rolf Nylinder 72 FATTIES & MOMBAKKIES With Jazz Kuschke and Andy Coetzee

REGULAR FEATURES 12 Wishlist Fish 14 Beers & Beats 16 Undercurrents 20 Troubled Waters 24 Loose Ties

Salad Bar 90 Payday 96 Shortcasts 100 Fluff 102 Lifer 106

Logged off: John Travis, Mike LaSota and Conrad Botes, disconnected from the real world, but 100% dialled in to dawn patrol in Gabon.

Photo Mark Murray

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

DAS BOOT Photo Platon Trakoshis

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ith a few exceptions, nobody owns the rivers or the oceans, but that doesn’t stop me from indulging in a bit of proprietorial indignation when I discover someone else’s fresh boot treads at a favourite spot.

For a moment, I go all CSI. “Cody (second in commands in CSI labs are always a Cody), run this through the tread database. It’s a bit unusual. I’m not getting any of the usual markers of Simms, Patagonia, Orvis or Korkers.”

Cody, absent-mindedly sticking his finger in some goose shit to test for temperature and viscosity, jumps to it, while Janet who really should be in command because she’s smarter than all of us, weighs in.

“Hang on a second, I’ve seen that tread before. It looks like the tread on a Soft Science Terrafin. Good for stream wading in the USA, but not really applicable on the harsh toe-crushing boulder-strewn river beds of the Western Cape.”

“Ok, so that would indicate a noob or a foreigner. Develop a profile of our guy that I can take credit for later.”

Janet, always trying to one-up me says, “Sir, if, as we suspect these are Terrafins, he’d appear to be either an American on holiday in South Africa, who decided to take in some fishing, OR, he’s a South African who travels to the US, the Denver area specifically.”

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The markings on the tread are very clear, implying these are new boots. They happened in the last few hours on the beat I booked. They are trespassing, beat-poaching treads, no doubt about it.

Cody, high on shrooms or something is no help. He’s wondered downstream and is slowly squatting, dropping his nuts in the stream.

The part of my brain playing Janet gets back to me.

“We’ve cross-referenced South Africans who travelled to Denver in the last 6 months, with Facebook users who claim to love fly fishing and who’ve shown flagrant abuse of credit cards while in the USA. Janet thinks she’s on a TV show or something, because she loves a pregnant pause mid-sentence.

“And?” Somewhere, further upstream, a half day earlier, a cloud squeezed down on the fynbos. The water rises a few cubic millimetres and washes over the interloper’s tread.

Whoever stomped through the beat, did it an hour or two ago. The fish have recovered. Forget the tread. It was probably a hiker.

There are fishing rising over there.

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T H E M I S S I O N F LY M AG . C O M

All grunted out, Conrad Botes takes a nap after a hard morning’s fishing on the Breede. Photo Platon Trakoshis

EDITOR Tudor Caradoc-Davies ART DIRECTOR Brendan Body CONTACT THE MISSION The Mission Fly Fishing Mag (PTY) Ltd 20 Malleson Rd, Mowbray, 7700, Cape Town, South Africa Info@themissionflymag.com www.themissionflymag.com

EDITOR AT LARGE Conrad Botes COPY EDITORS Gillian Caradoc-Davies ADVERTISING SALES tudor@themissionflymag.com brendan@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 THE MISSION FLY MAG (PTY) LTD. ANY DUPLICATION OF THIS MAGAZINE, FOR MEDIA OR SALE ACTIVITY, WILL RESULT IN LEGAL ACTION AND WILL HAVE TO WEAR ANDY COETZEE’S USED BIB-SHORTS AS A BUFF.

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CONTRIBUTORS #11 Jo Stephenson, Andrew Fowler, Flip Pallot, Nic Schwerdtfeger, Warwick Leslie, MC Coetzer, Rolf Nylinder, Jazz Kuschke, Platon Trakoshis, Marcelo Pérez PHOTOGRAPHY #11 Chad Kockott, Mark Murray, Jazz Kuschke, Conrad Botes, Jo Stephenson, Andrew Fowler, Graham Hegamyer, Ryan Janssens, Eugene Van Der Elst, Sarah Fjørtoft Jacobsen, Knut Otto, Andre van Wyk, Ewan Kyle, Emil Westrin, Ida Helleberg, Wikus van der Walt, PLaton Trakoshis, Antti Rastivo, Nick Kelley

@THEMISSIONFLYMAG

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WISH LIST FISH

HALIBUT OFF THE TASTING MENU TODAY, WE RECOMMEND THE HALIBUT. THIS DELICIOUS YET UGLY BOTTOM-DWELLER MOST OFTEN ASSOCIATED WITH FINE DINING, CAN REVEAL ITSELF AS A WORTHY TARGET ON FLY AS JO STEPHENSON FOUND.

In these fjords we discovered that the halibut come into the shallow water of approximately three to five metres to feed and sometimes, I’m sure, they were basking in the sunlight too.

Because of the crystal clear water it was possible to see them and so I was sure that, with some planning, I could take one on the fly.”

How: Jo caught (and released) her main course fishing from a small boat, using a 9-weight Hardy Zephrus saltwater rod (but says a 10 or even 12-weight would be ideal) and her favoured Hardy Fortuna saltwater reel.

Any reel with good backing capacity and a solid drag should do the trick.

The line was an intermediate with a 5m sink tip added. She says, “The fly was a large white and red half and half with tungsten dumbbell eyes that I had tied on a 4/0 Partridge Sea Prince hook. The retrieve was a slow strip, strip, stop style. I allowed the fly to sink to the bottom and then just popped it off the sand. I discovered, after many sessions fishing for these awesome fish, that success depends hugely on the boat’s drift, speed, and angle.”

Halibut on a bed of seaweed. Restaurant presentation is so next level these days

What: The Atlantic Halibut (Hippoglossus hippoglossus, Greek for “Horse tongue, Horse tongue”, (amazing how schoolyard nicknames stick), is a bottom dwelling fish found in Arctic to temperate waters around the northern Atlantic from Canada, to Greenland, Iceland and Norway. It lays on its left side with both eyes migrating to its right side, akin to the horrendously inaccurate “art” your 4-year-old niece insists on placing on the fridge. Halibut can live for 50 years and they can grow

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to over 300kg. They normally live in deep water between 50-2000m, but sometimes, when they’re feeling cray cray, they come into much shallower waters, which is how Jo Stephenson managed to catch this whopper.

Where: Jo says, “I caught this beautiful halibut in Norway in the fjords surrounding Storslett. It was 147cm in length and the weight was 44kg.

It is still, as far as I’m aware, the Norwegian fly-caught record.

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Who: At the time Jo was living, working and guiding at a Norwegian salmon lodge on a nearby river, but would take her break days fishing in the fjord.

She says, “I was self-guided by a local friend who had the boat. I am happy to give information to those interested (although I won’t give exact marks, as it’s taken a bit of time and effort to make this work). We are hoping to offer trips soon though my friend.”

For more, follow Jo on Instagram (IG: jostephenson_fishing) or visit (jostephensonfishing.com).

Distributed by Xplorer Fly fishing - www.xplorerflyfishing.co.za Email: jandi@netactive.co.za or call 031-564-7368 for your closest dealer.

FODDER

BEERS AND BEATS THE RUM - FRIGATE RESERVE Other than a ton of bonefish chasing, what happens when you put Flip Pallot, Oliver White and guide Graham Hegamyer together in the Bahamas?

They decide to make rum together, that’s what.

When we interviewed Oliver White for our issue 10 profile, amongst other things he told us he is a rum fan and that he, legendary guide Flip Pallot and another fly fishing friend, Graham Hegamyer, are making their own.

Flip says, “The genesis of Frigate Reserve Rum came from the gathering of friends around a campfire in the Bahamas. Each of the four reserves that we build - an 8-year, a 12, a 15 and our signature 21 - are fully aged. The taste profile springs from our accumulated preferences along with the strong influence of Master Distiller and recognized, ‘God Father of Rum’, Don Pancho Fernandez, who agreed to help with the journey.”

A product of Panama (where the Cuban-born Don Pancho is part of the fabric of the rum world), how should you be drinking this rum? If Flip has a say in the matter, it probably won’t be in a Dark ‘n Stormy.

Flips says, “I’m aware that some will find something to mix and will connect a clever name to what would, otherwise, be a wonderful and thoughtfully created rum. To each, her own! At a personal level, all rum worth drinking should be sipped, undiluted, at no less than room temperature.”

Frigate Reserve Rum (frigatereserverum.com) is due for release in October 2018.

THE BEER – AMUNDSEN Cult Norwegian craft beer, Amundsen, brewed in South Africa – what gives? The answer would be in the South African-born General Manager of Amundsen Geoffrey Jansen Van Vuuren who no doubt had a say in bringing Amundsen to Cape Town where they’ve teamed up with Devil’s Peak Brewing Company in order to produce these great beers.

Other than the big flavour of beers like the Ink & Dagger IPA (giant, hoppy explosions in your mouth-hole) and the Run to the Oils Craft Pilsner (a highly quaffable pine and hops profile), their designs by another Oslo-based South African, artist Peter John de Villiers (theshallowtree.com) also caught our eye.

Jansen Van Vuuren says, “We see ourselves as an uncompromising brewery that uses only the best locally and internationally sourced ingredients available.” amundsenbrewery.com

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T H E B E AT S

THE MISSION PLAYLIST VOL 8 THE PISCIVORE’S DILEMMA MIX

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UNDERCURRENTS

FAKES AND LADDERS N AV I G AT I N G S I D E WAY S R A I N , P U N K S H E E P A N D A N N OY I N G T O U R I S T S W H I L E AT T E M P T I N G T O C AT C H H I S F I R S T AT L A N T I C S A L M O N , T U D O R C A R A D O C - D AV I E S P U T S T H E I R E I N T O I R E L A N D .

I

was in Ireland. Aasleagh Falls on the River Erriff on Ireland’s West Coast, where everything is green and rain is more common than sunlight. The goal; to catch an Atlantic salmon. My expectations; light to moderate south-easterly. I’m used to fishing where there is no guarantee. In fact, I have probably known more blank days than salad days, but my chances here were always going to be slim. If a bad workman blames his tools then, first off, let me blame my gear, a 9-weight one-handed salt rod. Compared to the double-handed spey rods others were using, I was not really dressed for success.

Then I was told, while Ireland has got salmon, it’s no Ponoi, Kola, Alta or Gaula, so don’t expect too much. I was fine with that. I was told there had not been enough rain, but it might just be enough. I was fine with that too. I was told to remember that these were Atlantic salmon, “The fish of a thousand casts.”

The fish of a thousand casts. If I have to hear one more species described this way, I’ll platz through the sheer lack of descriptive effort. Tarpon off the beach guys? They use it. Largemouth yellowfish guys – they looove to use it.

Steelhead, milks, pike, muskies, mahseer, grunter, they all get that label. The Atlantic salmon scene? No doubt they coined the now hackneyed phrase.

All the inspiration I needed was on the wall of the lodge.

A 20lb salmon caught in 1987. The granddaddy, now stuffed in a box amid fake grasses, it was stuck in permanent tail waggle, considering the one time it really should have rejected that gaudy feather boa fly.

“WTF was I thinking? That does not look like food.”

There was some competition, aka nice fellow fishermen I was sharing the river with. There were the Germans who (in my head), I could not help but call “ze Germans”. They were friendly enough in the oddly low-confidence way many middle-aged German men are as part of a post-war generation who were taught not to be over confident.

Because well… we know what happened last time.

As it turns out, they could afford to be over confident.

Their fishing was good.

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Then there was the Frenchman, a chief engineer on big container ships. He told me in delightful Franglish about a river close to where he lives where “These troot are verrry educated.” An odd mixture of serious and engaging, I think he was lonely or bored, so I would ham up the clueless foreigner act (not hard to do) for insight.

It soon dawns on me that this is a shit shoot, a lottery, the exact opposite of shooting fish in a barrel. We discuss flies and runs and pools and targeting the back of that rock and the next level down off that ledge and casting a little closer, a little further and trying any one of 30 flies in our fly boxes that have half a degree of colour or size difference and use ducktail instead of stout tail and marabou instead of pheasant fibres. Only it all seems way too random.

My home waters in the Western Cape of South Africa are highly technical. The fish are mostly small, the rivers thin and getting it right involves light tippets, careful selection of flies and about 20 other factors in between.

Micro-adjustments usually result in fish. This sort of fishing, seemed utterly dependent on chance, like waltzing past a nunnery hoping for a one-night stand.

998, 999, 1000… Where’s my fish?

From what I could see through the sideways rain, the countryside was beautiful. Lochs feed into valleys divided by the Errif. Sheep graze in soggy pastures on either side.

With their impressive shaggy coats and devilish horns they look like the Wildlings of the domesticated animal world.

It helps their anti-establishment looks that they have punk colour blues, greens and reds spray-painted on to their backs (I assume to give the game away on who shagged whom). When I get tangled in the ferns for the umpteenth time and shout to the old gods, the new gods and the spaghetti monster in anguish, they look up, horns raised as if to say, “Rock on braaa.”

Standing in rapids, feeding my line down into a pool I know acts as a main thoroughfare up to the impressive Aasleagh Falls, I hear a flap flap sound. A huge salmon is working its way through the rapid about a metre from my feet. I’m tempted to dive on it like a redneck on a hog at a county fair. About the only thing stopping me is death by wader drowning.

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One of the Germans gets a fish, a 7lber. The Frenchman gets one of 3 1/2 lb, or so he says, but he looks bleaker than before and I feel he might just be competing with his European neighbours. Unlike the Germans he does not have a fishing partner to confirm.

Confidence gone with the sun, I consider forgetting my salmon flies and trying smaller trout flies I brought with me to take advantage of the many small fish I see all the time.

It feels like surrender, but then again I would catch fish this size at home, I argue with myself. Just not on a 9-weight.

3001, 3002, 3003.

Barbour-clad, welly-wearing tourists on countryside yomps stop to ask questions. High on fresh air and thermos tea, they mean well, but damn them to hell and back they’re not helping.

Are there any fish in here? Considering my spectacular lack of success, I can forgive the stupid question.

I wear a T-shirt from Rory’s Fishing Tackle shop in Dublin emblazoned with the slogan, “Where the CRAIC IS MIGHTY”. It doesn’t feel mighty any more.

If there were no fish coming out at all, I’d accept it. “Tough conditions.” “Global warming.” “Just not my time.” But what really galls is that, other than the one or two caught by the Germans and the Frenchie, someone else is catching fish. Every day. For Ian, the yokel, there does not seem to be a problem. Every night, just as I start defrosting my feet by the fire, first post-session Irish whiskey in hand (pondering who I am and what I did in a past life to be so cursed), Ian walks past with a salmon dangling from his hand. Missing an adipose fin, they look like wild salmon.

He walks home on the road that passes the cottage we’re staying in and I follow him like a forlorn Labrador, from window to window, intent on seeing what flies are on his jacket or where he hides the portable electro-shock device. I want to befriend him and curse him at the same time.

When I swallow my South African DIY-or-die pride and ask, he knows my motives are not pure.

“Where did you catch it?”

Caught anything? No, goddamit.

Tough fishing this year? Dunno. Fokkof.

“Thar.”

He could tell me anywhere, any pool, any run and it would make no difference.

What are you trying to catch? I heard that emphasis on “trying”, lady. A plague on your house.

A few days into it, I start to ask questions, initially of myself. And, once I have absolved myself of all responsibility for my failure, I ask about the fishery.

It turns out the salmon fishing has been affected by the farms in the bay. Sea trout and salmon go and socialise with their farmed brethren and then get sick. In Ireland you have two groups: those who want the jobs that salmon farming creates, and those who want to protect the heritage and environmental sanctity of the area, who are seen as elites.

While I can see salmon, flapping past me, jumping into waterfalls and getting hoiked out of the fish ladder on the side of the falls, from what I am told, they are by no means as thick in numbers as they used to be. Depending on who you talk to, the message is “You should have been here yesterday, last week, last year or 50 years ago. Or come back next week.” Just not this week.

6670, 6671, 6672.

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8484, 8485, 8486.

I want to strap a GoPro to my flies and see under the boiling surface of the falls. Who exactly is neglecting my flies? Why? Dear Sir Salmon, can we do a quick voxpop with you on your preferences? What provokes you to strike normally?

The final day approaches. In desperation, I shave my beard off (seriously) and appear afresh the next morning on the river hoping the salmon don’t recognise me.

They don’t, as they haven’t all week.

I pay extra for an extended session. As the light fades and my time runs out I give myself five last casts. On the fourth one, I catch a fish. A seatrout somewhere around 30cm.

Fresh and feisty it would be a trophy on my home streams.

9999.

I know when to quit.

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T R O U B L E D WAT E R S

THE BLUE RIBBON

UMGENI The Water The Umgeni River provides water to some six million people in KwaZulu Natal. It is also one of KZN’s shorter rivers, and unlike the bigger ones (e.g. the Mooi and Bushmans), it rises some 35kms below the Drakensberg escarpment, making it more vulnerable, and susceptible to human interference. The top 20kms or so of the river is an often overlooked trout stream.

The Wankers Bloody Ozzies. Specifically, invasive alien plants like wattle.

Andrew Fowler of the NFFC (Natal Fly Fishers Club) says, “Since 2013 the Natal Fly Fishers Club’s #BRU project has succeeded in clawing back about nine kilometres of the most heavily wattle-infested reaches of that trout water.” Living proof that not all superheroes wear capes, the Umgeni is now back in action as a brilliant brown trout stream thanks to the sterling efforts of the #BRU project marshalled by Fowler.

The Way Forward While the Umgeni is bouncing back, there’s plenty of work still to be done. Fowler says, “In a few side streams, a cock-up remains to be tackled. The Furth stream is one such disaster area. The good news is that the WWF (World Wide Fund for Nature) and the NFFC have partnered for the last two years to clear the worst of it. In its current state, and despite considerable money and effort expended, the Furth remains a mess, with fallen wattles, brambles, erosion and germinating wattle seed. Our efforts in 2018 are on spraying regrowth, grass planting, and removal of logs. In 2019 the funding runs out, and there is a lot more to do. But there is hope.

The dream is to open the Furth Stream as a Lilliput flyfishing venue for small stream aficionados on 1 September 2021.”

Want to support the #DreamStream? To get involved,visit blueribbonumgeni.wordpress.com Photo Andrew Fowler

“THE UMGENI IS NOW BACK IN ACTION AS A BRILLIANT BROWN TROUT STREAM THANKS TO THE STERLING EFFORTS OF THE #BRU PROJECT MARSHALLED

BY ANDREW FOWLER.”

LOOSE TIES Guide Matt Gorlei of Kau Taupen Lodge on the Rio Grande, takes a moment to repair the rubber legs of an E.M.B

GUIDES

HIGH 5S WHETHER WORKING ON OFF-SHORE OIL RIGS OR GUIDING ON THE GAULA, N I C S C H W E R D T F E G E R I S I M P R O V I N G N O R S E - S O U T H A F R I C A N B I - L AT E R A L R E L AT I O N S O N E T I N D E R D AT E A N D AT L A N T I C S A L M O N AT A T I M E .

Photos Eugene Van Der Elst, Sarah Fjørtoft Jacobsen, Chad Kockott

5 fishing items you don’t leave home without before making a mission?

1. My Land Cruiser (when I’m in South Africa).

2. My Nissan Patrol (when I’m in Norway).

3. Aquatech AxisGo underwater housing.

4. Sunnies. For years I wore cheap sunnies, but the difference between these and a good pair is polarising… (see what I did there?). I’m currently wearing some Costa ones that make me look like a golf-playing Dodge Viper driver.

5. A waterproof bag of sorts. I’ve got an Overboard fold-over one that’s been to plenty countries and in some shitty situations, and no one likes a soggy Marie biscuit, right?

5 best things about where you guide?

1. The people I work with at Norwegian Flyfishers Club (NFC), especially the rest of our guide team.

2. The food! Our chef is the bee’s knees. She makes a gnarly chocolate fondant that looks like a nativity scene when plated.

3. The actual area. The Gaula is one of the most beautiful rivers in one of the most beautiful places in Norway. It’s a trip being able to work and fish here.

4. The fact that I can fish this river alone sometimes after work. It’s been a dream for a long time now and it’s just mind blowing to have put that dream into action.

5. The species. Atlantic salmon are stunning. When you hold one and imagine where this fish has been on its journey and what it’s seen? Nuts.

5 things you are loving right now 1. The exchange rate.

2. No matter how many sneaker companies create new fancy materials; you’ll never beat a Nike Huarache for comfort.

3. People helping people. So rad to know there are still good folks around.

Don’t be naai, do something lekker for someone at least once a day without expecting anything back.

4. I’m busy buying my dream car, or one of them at least. It’s a super exciting process since it’s an auction.

Hopefully soon I’ll be the owner of a Midnight Purple Nissan Skyline R33 GTR Vspec.

5. Norwegian Tinder.

5 indispensable flies for saltwater?

1. Anything Father (James) Christmas has tied. Or tells me to cast. Close friend of mine, old Seychelles guide, great tier, great fisherman.

2. Chartreuse/White Clouser.

3. Semper Brushies.

4. NYAPs (Not Your Average Popper).

5. Game Changers.

5 of the most underrated species in your book?

1. Pike. AKA Lake snoek. Just to see them take the fly is worth it. So aggressive.

2. Those Berg river brown koi. Only recently have I found out what a challenge getting one to eat can be.

3. Sharks on fly. No one really targets them on fly in SA. 4. Halibut. Basically a flat brown Permit with flappy wings and a shit attitude.

5. Yellowfin tuna in the Cape. We have such an abundance of them.... chum flies my dudes. Get on it.

5 favourite fly fishing destinations across South Africa?

1. Even though it resulted in a blank for that trip, I have to say Kosi, for geets.

An SA geet on fly in Kosi, is still very

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high on my list. Preferably also over 100cm so I can get my name on that silly blog and just forget that I even knew that that silly “club” existed and I was chasing silly goals for silly reasons. But it’s personal.

2. Breede River, the estuary.

3. Somewhere else close to Breede that I’m not allowed to talk about.

4. Even though I don’t fish for them, I would love to go catch a big rainbow trout somewhere up country.

Drakensberg, that vibe.

5. Clanwilliam, I really need to spend more time there.

5 favourite fly fishing destinations globally?

1. Straya. Fly fishing is still sort of undercover in Australia... but they have a wild species list. I need to get back there.

2. Home. South Africa. I guess living in Norway has really made appreciate what a great fishery South Africa actually is. Think about how many species you could catch with a 4x4 and 24 hours.

3. Fiji. My mate, Chad Kockott, gave me the chance to come work at his place (OceanSouldiers Amanzi Wai) when they were setting up. I was super green in the fly chucking game.

I would love to go back knowing what I know now.

4. Namibia. I fished the Orange as a grom a while ago. It’s a mad river.

5. Norway. Totally different to South Africa, but also the same kind of vibe.

Big salmon rivers that run into the fjords that flow out to the sea. Many possibilities at many different species.

5 of the most difficult guiding experiences so far?

1. Bad weeks on the river. When you know it’s going to be a hard week

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“THE GAULA IS ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL RIVERS IN ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PLACES IN NORWAY. IT’S A TRIP BEING ABLE TO WORK AND FISH HERE.”

based on conditions, it can be super hard to keep yourself amped, and even more so to keep clients amped.

2. Dodging bad casts and getting weighted flies swung around by clients.

3. Having clients hook themselves. I mean, I kind of laugh at their reaction, but it does suck.

4. Setting guests up on really good shots at fish, only to have them blow them due to silly mistakes. Heartbreaking.

5. Losing fish. It happen; it’s just as bad every time. Every. Single. Time.

5 flies to pack (in the smuggler kit under your driver’s seat) to cover most species?

1. Temple dog.

2. Sand shrimp pattern.

3. EP Baitfish.

4. Flipper.

5. I want to say a Woolly bugger... but everyone says that? But it does work, so I’m going to go with it.

5 people you would like to guide or fish with?

1. South African President Cyril Ramaphosa. Come on! At least he’s less of a turd than the last guy. For those that don’t know, and from what I hear, he is a not too shabby trout dude.

2. My brother, he hates fishing, but he’s a cool dude. Maybe I can get him to see the light.

3. My mentor James Christmas. He really re-ignited my love for fly fishing.

I would love to finish the cycle and guide him onto a thick Atlantic on the Gaula.

4. Those Whip It Wednesday scumbags. An oddly composed group of dudes who get together every Wednesday in Cape Town to braai, talk kak and tie flies. We all tie together, unfortunately we don’t fish together enough. All great guys, except for Kyle. He’s a chop.

5. Ayrton Senna. I used to be a huge F1 fan, ask anyone who knows. He was the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time).

5 fish on your species hit list?

1. Roosterfish.

2. I still need to cross out that damn yellowtail on fly.

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3. Golden Dorado.

4. Tarpon.

5. Sailfish.

5 destinations on your bucket list?

1. Some of the other rivers in Norway.

Namsen is up next, I think.

2. Exmouth. I heard Jono Shales has quite an “exotic” braai menu.

3. Venezuela.

4. I want to say Gabon, but it seems so fickle. So, I’m gonna safe it and go with Astove. Even considering the more “exotic” places like St Brandon’s or Providence, I would like to get there someday soon.

5. Bolivia.

5 things you would take up if you weren’t always fly fishing?

1. Flying. I’ve thought about doing my PPL for a long time now.

2. Time Attack racing. I love fast cars.

Building a lightweight track weapon would take up a fair bit of fishing time.

3. Marathons. I run a lot. It’s weird. It’s a different kind of zone out, but kind of the same feeling when standing knee deep in some water, casting for hours.

4. Writing. Having written for a few magazines and blogs in the past, it’s something I enjoy and for some reason other people enjoy reading.

5. Start a conservation/ trust or something up that alley. Fishing or not, I’m an outdoor person, and preservation of the environment is something all of us could be better at.

5 essential ingredients for an incredible mission?

1. A good team. This is the make or break of any trip long or short, far away or close by.

2. Not getting skunked. Like the estuary flooded and is poo brown, the river ran dry, the wind changed... all the usual stuff.

3. Braaiing. I won the Klipdrift 2006 “Naaier by the Fire” Invitational in Clanwilliam at a bass competition.

Ever since then, braaiing has become a gastronomical science, not a meal time.

4. Going somewhere few people or no one else has been to before. And doing it differently.

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5. A good playlist. I generally tailor make mine ahead of time to suit the length and vibe of the trip.

5 bands to listen to while on a road trip?

1. Coheed and Cambria.

2. Taylor Motherfucking Swift.

3. Lady Gaga, but for real, I have her face tattooed on me. Get over the image and listen to her sing, as in actually sing.

4. IWRESTLEDABEARONCE. 5. A$AP Ferg.

5 flies that to look at make no sense but that catch fish all the time?

1. Salmon flies. Fishing to fish that don’t actually “eat” will change your mind set about how to fish a fly.

2. Floating Turds. Like really? Grunter are so uppity and snobbish. How can they be vaguely interested in those?

Sarah Fjørtoft Jacobsen, Nic Schwerdtfeger and Dunty La Trobe in the mangroves of Mozambique. Photo Eugene Van Der Elst

3. Offshore tube flies. They’re literally a hyperspace marshmallow.

4. Some of those tiiiiiiny trout flies.

Like the ones I could never fathom tying... these hands do size 10. No smaller.

5. Mouse flies... I mean, they do make sense, I just find them hilarious.

Especially the detail that some dudes go into, and the fact that trout actually eat mice!

5 things about fly fishing that you may never understand?

1. Why is that feeling of holding and releasing a fish so good? SO SO SO good?

2. The politics of it, namely that IGFA mentality. “Oh, you caught yours on 100lb leader? Well, that doesn’t count. I only fish 20lb for GTs.” Great.

Now fuck off.

3. Why dudes that fly fish are snobby

towards bait and art lure peeps. Chill yo, we all just wanna fish.

4. Why punching out a perfect double haul/spey cast feels so good? It never gets old, cast after cast.

5. How fish can swim up to a fly, track it, poke it, poke it again, and then just go; nah, not into that.

5 common mistakes that most clients make?

1. Not having put in the hours learning to cast properly. You can’t pay all this money, make this long journey to fish to trophy fish and not be able to get the fly out. It doesn’t come for free.

You have to work just a little bit to get that shooting head out straight.

2. Having super high expectations. As skilled as you might be, you always need luck. Unfortunately, luck is a big part of this game.

3. Listen to your guide, not your

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

cellphone. You’re paying for my advice. I’m not right all the time, but there is reason for most of what we say.

4. Not resting pools. You can’t come in, guns blazing right after a group of three loud dudes has run through it. Chill, have a cup of coffee, make a plan, try to watch what’s going on and then fish, quietly.

5. Enjoy the experience, even if you manage to have a shitty week fishing, appreciate you’re here. Be in the moment. You could die tomorrow.

Who knows...

Your last five casts were to….

1. Sea trout in northern Norway.

2. Halibut.

3. Gaula Atlantic salmon.

4. Pike.

5. A mackerel that I liberated from the fjord and onto a burger.

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THE MISSION PRESENTS WARWICK LESIE IN

s t a l F IN COLLABORATION WITH KNUT OTTO, AND ANDRE VAN WYK

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

There once was chap from tokai By all accounts a nice guy He loved to spin fish.

Till he developed a wish To catch fish on the flats with a fly.

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

17

Warwick thought he had THE BEST life EVER.

1

[ ], Wife & Kids

2

2 x Daschunds [ ], 4

3

WAR TIME TO RELS, FORGET HEATHE THE NWARE. L O OK WHAT Y OU CAN CATCH O N A FLY.

Great Job [ ]

BUT THEN HIS BEST FRIEND MESSED WITH HIS WORLD This guy

ng [ ]

hi Spin Fis

y DRE had just RETURNED FROM AL Fl Fishing TRIP TO THE FABLED ATOL OF

PROVIDENCE! Warwick Leslie

Insane bro, when

we leaving!

8:00 PM

de

Ewan Nau

Leonard Flemming

EPIC ANDRE!!

7:45 PM

BOSS!

3:35 PM

Fred Davis

Peter Co

etzee

Sick Dre

!

6:25 PM

Beast!

6:25 PM

Platon Tra

koshis 4:20 PM

Jazz

Kush

OMG

ke

Dude

!!!

2:43

PM

Conrad Botes

YEEES DRE!!

5:40 PM

BUS!!

ZER

OET

MC C

Peter Coetzee 6:25 PM

IA AND SOCIAL MED SHARED ON OTO AFTER GROUPS, PH WHATSAPP FISH OF FISH AFTER PHOTO AND CUDDLING NY OF HIM A (M IP R T DRE’S . GIANT FLOODED IN ) S T G E G U H CATION. CREDIBLE LO IN N A IN H FIS K THAT...

ON WARWIC IT DAWNED

!

BR

NT ILLIA

6:25

PM

LUVVY, YOU KNOW HOW YOU SAID YOU WANT ME TO BE HAPPY? WELL, I GOT A GREAT DEAL ON A TRIP* IT’S REALLY THE OPPORTUNITY OF A LIFETIME** THIS WAS A LIE THIS WAS NOT A LIE

D HE HA THEN, ALK TO TO T ER BOSS TH HIS O

LUVVY, ER.. .

BOSS. I TH INK WE NEED TO OPEN U P A SEYCHELLES OFFICE.

A LIE! …HE WAS LIVING T COMPLETE. NO HIS LIFE WAS AS A GIANT IN FACT THERE W AT NEEDED VOID, A VACUUM TH TAKE A TO D FILLING. HE HA CE TO TRIP TO PROVIDEN ON FLY. GT S AS G BI CATCH TP TALK D BUT FIRST HE HA ...

TO THE BOSS

LISTEN BABES ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR BLOODY MIND! WE JUST DON’T HAVE THE BUCKS RIGHT NOW FOR THIS NONSENSE!

I’M PICKING UP WHAT YOU’RE PUTTING DOWN.

STAMPED, GREEN LIGHT FLASHING, PINK SLIP HERE THE WHITE FLAG OF SURRENDER NOW DED TO BE SEEN, NOW ALL WARWICK NEE S DAY 365 T NEX THE D TO DO WAS SPEN EY ASH BERD G/HA TYIN FLY PREPPING. ENTER S.” DAY NES WED IT SOCIAL CLUB “WHIP

SO WARWICK BEGAN TO TIE AND HE TIED. AND HE TIED. AND HE TIED.

AND HE TIED.

Initially, he was crap. But in time…

1

From spawning shrim

ps...

2

...to Alphlexo crabs

t o g s ie l f ’s k ic w r a …W . r e t t e b d n a r e t t e b

3

Brush flies, sempers

and Nyap’s...

ab patterns, 2000 Finally, with 3000 cr wick and Dre baitfish patterns, War ts. were ready for the fla

THEY GOT ON A AND THEN AN PLANE OTHER ONE. THEN ONTO A BOAT.

.

E NEW FRIENDS THEY MADE SOM S WEIRD RUSSIAN AND MET SOME IN SPEEDOS.

RMED UP THEY GOT WA ISH. EF ON SOME BON

DRE I GOT MY FIRST BONER!!

ER...ONE DOES NOT SAY THAT ON THE FLATS WARRELS

SNAPPER & THEN SOME ALLY TOO V BLUEFIN TRE

CALL ME!

“I FEEL IT IN MY FINGERS I FEEL IT IN MY TOES THE FISH ARE ALL AROUND MEAND SO THE FEELING GROWS” ISE, LITTLE DID WARWICK REAL G TO BUT HE WAS SINGING ALON WET WET WET

ING CLOSER T T E G E R E W THEY E GOAL T A M I T L U E TO TH

FLY F OR ISH DIE

AND THEN IT HAPPENED...

Peter Coetzee

Even has an underbite like yours!

3:35 PM

Boss

Leonard Flemming

Jou Bliksem!

Seychelles

3:35 PM

6:25 PM

Platon Tra

koshis

Conrad Botes

Beautiful Fish!

Nick Sc

Branch?

That’s Bri

lliant

5:40 PM

4:20 PM

hwerdtf

Thick Bo

eger

y!!!!!!

6:25 PM

Jazz Kushke

Moose!

2:43 PM

r

MC Coetze

Good God!!

Steven Smith

Lekker!

de

Ewan Nau

NICE!!!!!

6:25 PM

6:25 PM

Fred Davis

7:45 PM

Sick Dude!!!!!

5:40 PM

FINALLY W ARWICK

Peter

ee

Coetz

!!

arwick W e n a

Ins

6:25

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GOT HIS GT

lie

es Warwick L

n!! All ental missio a proper m tly Smith was on sale shor be @Stephen ll wi ar tional ge my conven 45 PM

7:

GABON

L I K E A N Y G O O D L O V E A F FA I R , C H A S I N G TA R P O N I N T H E E S T U A R I N E F O R E S T S O F G A B O N I S M E A N T T O L E AV E Y O U AT L E A S T A L I T T L E B R O K E N ; R A C K E D W I T H B O AT L O A D S O F L O N G I N G , L A S H I N G S O F S E L F - D O U B T A N D M AY B E E V E N A S M I D G E N O F R E G R E T. C H E W E D U P A N D S PAT O U T B Y T H E S I LV E R K I N G , V E T E R A N S A LT I E M C C O E T Z E R R E V E A L S H O W AT L E A S T H E F O U N D S U C C O U R A N D G O O D C O M PA N Y O N A R E C E N T T R I P.

I

love most African cities. It doesn’t really matter whether you’re in Tanzania, Mozambique, Angola or in Gabon, all African cities have that bustling, loud and often dirty vibe about them. But the people are always friendly and they seem genuinely happy as they go about their daily chores while dodging a million half-broken taxis. This day was different…

It was dawn in Libreville. One of those typical picture perfect African sunrises with a fresh smell in the air after an overnight thunderstorm. The last dawn that greeted me on the very same balcony was a time of serious anticipation, but today the scenery

and chirping birds irritated the hell out of me. The rest of the guys were still asleep while I had that first cigarette of the day. It tasted good with a cup of strong condensed milksweetened coffee, but it did nothing to relieve the fishing equivalent of post-coital depression I was suffering from. The opening line from the movie, Apocalypse Now, came to mind – “Libreville….. Shit. I wish I was back in the jungle”.

depression as “Post-coital tristesse (PCT) or post-coital dysphoria (PCD) as the feeling of sadness, anxiety, agitation or aggression after sexual intercourse. Its name comes from New Latin postcoitalis and French tristesse, literally “sadness”. The phenomenon is traced to the Greek doctor Galen (circa 130 to 210 AD), who wrote, “Every animal is sad after coitus except the human female and the rooster.”

Okay, it doesn’t go quite like that, but looking out over Libreville after spending ten days fishing in a remote jungle paradise I was depressed and generally not in a happy space.

Wikipedia defines post-coital

The former I get, but how the hell he worked out rooster sexual satisfaction I don’t know. Regardless, I was experiencing the opposite; a massive come down from a torrid love affair that began ten days earlier.

Photos Ewan Kyle, Conrad Botes, John Travis, Mark Murray

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

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It’s impossible to convey to somebody what the jungles of Gabon are like. I can tell you that they are endless and totally overpowering with almost no sign of human habitation, but no matter how many hyperboles I use, most people will never know what it feels like to take a boat trip down a forest-fringed river in Gabon until you do it. It’s simply insane. It’s beautiful and intimidating at the same time, but even more importantly it’s like a long and winding watery rainbow with a pot of fishing gold at the end where the river meets the sea.

Jannie Visser and I were headed down this black flowing rainbow and our destination was Sette Cama, where we were to meet up with Conrad Botes and John Travis for ten days of pretty extreme fly fishing.

The overriding theme when fishing Gabon, especially land based fishing, is that it’s a whole lot of hard work and you can never compare it to fishing a venue like Seychelles or St Brandon’s.

In Gabon the numbers of fish are low and you will spend a huge amount of energy for every bite that you get. This style of fishing appeals to me because it’s pretty much what we do back home in the estuaries of the Western Cape, with the difference being that the jungle setting in Gabon is unique and you have a very realistic chance of hooking and landing a giant of a fish. Here are some random thoughts on what we experienced: Things that go Bump in the Night Picture this. You’ve spent months planning for a trip, tying flies, rigging lines and generally prepping your arse off before spending two days on planes, taxis and boats to get to your destination. You are super stoked and nothing will keep you off the water after you’ve dumped your luggage. Sound familiar? Dream on.

We arrived at the lodge at about lunchtime, only to be told that we would have to hang around the lodge until about ten that evening before we would be able to get any fishing

44

done. Can you imagine travelling all the way to Gabon only to be told that you must hold your horses for the next ten hours before you can cast a line? Agony. We needed to go for some form of client emotional stability counselling. To be fair, the guys who were already there did fish more or less the same shift the previous evening and they reckoned that it would be worth the wait, so we spent the whole day rigging tackle, eating and drinking beers until the evening when we finally got on the boats to head on down the river.

“THE SYSTEM IS STACKED WITH FISH AND YOU CAN CONSTANTLY HEAR FISH JUMPING OUT IN THE CHANNEL OR MULLET GETTING SMASHED RIGHT AT YOUR FEET.” That first night’s fishing was surreal!

We travelled to the mouth of the river after dark and, with no moon, it was impossible to form even a vague idea of what our surroundings were.

You knew there was a raging river in front of you but it was pitch black and you literally couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. They may as well have blindfolded me, put me on a rugby field in Pofadder and told me to cast the 12-weight for the next five hours. If it wasn’t for the sound of water I would not have known the difference.

You very quickly get stuck in a rhythm of cast, slow retrieve, cast, slow retrieve, light a cigarette, cast, slow retrieve and then out of nowhere the line goes very tight, very fast and totally unexpectedly. You forget to set

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

Jannie Visser with a trophy cubera snapper.

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

Janinie Visser With a cubera snapper

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

the hook as if it’s a tarpon, which it isn’t, and there is all-round pandemonium.

The system is stacked with fish and you can constantly hear fish jumping out in the channel or mullet getting smashed right at your feet. Despite always feeling like something is about to destroy your fly, every pull comes out of nowhere and causes the same chaos on the bank.

Black & Purple “If it ain’t chartreuse it ain’t no use”?

Yeah right. More like, “Once you’ve tried black you can’t go back.”

Black and purple flies look seriously cool, especially big ones tied with natural materials. It’s just something about the colour combination that appeals to every saltwater fly tyer I know. The problem is that, despite having tied them for forever and a day, I’ve only ever caught the odd GT on black and purple flies. For instance, I’ve never caught a kob on one, while my natural mullet-type patterns do well enough in the Western Cape

estuaries, even when fishing at night.

Mullet don’t turn black when the sun sets, so why the hell should I change the colour of the flies that imitate them when the kob are smashing the naturals all around? I understand the whole silhouette thing, but dark flies have never made a noticeable difference for me. Until Gabon.

Before the trip Conrad went on and on about black and purple flies but it’s impossible to tie only one style or colour of fly when you’re heading to a place like Gabon. Prepping for a trip simply doesn’t work that way, so we tied a whole range of flies and we fished all different colours like shades of orange and red, naturals, flies with loads of flash and even some chartreuse. But as the trip progressed, it became clear that there was only one colour combination that appealed to every single fish in that system. Of course, it was black and purple. By the end of the first week each of us would have three rods rigged and every single rod would have some variant of a black and

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

purple fly tied to the end. It simply wasn’t worth wasting time with other colours when you are only expecting three to four pulls a night. When you put in the amount of back-breaking work that Gabon demands, you have to be confident in what’s tied to the end of that 80lb leader. By the end of the trip the only flies that inspired unwavering confidence were black and purple.

The Daily Bread Days and nights quickly blur into this strange random combination of fishing in the dark, eating to keep going, drinking beers because that’s what you do in the tropics, sleeping whenever you can squeeze in a few hours and tying flies because you need more black and purple stuff. In Gabon fishing is centred around the tidal changes and primarily during night time. Some sessions start at a gentlemanly 17h00 and continue until the tide turns, but others would start at nine at night or four in the morning. Some morning sessions are

49

spent chasing shoals of surface-busting Jacks in the estuary, but for the most part you end up with too many hours spent waiting at the lodge. This time is spent tying flies. The daily tying is a bit of a hand-to-mouth exercise and patterns are tweaked every afternoon and tied directly onto leaders for the evening session.

Every fly tyer has a different approach to flies and fly tying. Conrad is a bit of a work horse type of tier who seems to focus on function rather than form.

That’s a nice way of saying that some of his creations look like shit, but they really work. Jannie is like a slow surgeon. He spends hours tying a single fly and it seems as if the goal is to get every strand in exactly the right place. If thread won’t keep them in place he glues it into place with Pattex 100. John is in a league of his own. I’ve never come across anybody who ties with an obsession and genuine enjoyment like he does. Fly tying is pretty much a combination of technical tying skill, an understanding of the different materials, creativity and the ability to understand what the finished product will do in the water.

John incorporates all of that into his tying and it was fascinating to watch him tie flies for tarpon in Gabon, but also to watch him demonstrate techniques used on flies for species like Northern Pike and Golden Dorado. One day soon, when he’s too old to cast a heavy rod, he ought to write a book on fly tying.

It Hurts Almost everybody gets the odd casting blister when you fish hard for a weekend at the start of the season. But this was March, almost at the end of our local saltwater season, and by now my hands were pretty used to casting 10-weight rods for extended periods of time. In Gabon however, you quickly realise that a 10-weight won’t be able to handle the fish that cruise around the river mouth after dark and you are forced to fish the 12-weights. Flats fishing a 12-weight should never be confused with fishing

30

Busting Jacks for breakfast, thank you very much.

“IF, YOU’RE MORE INTO A TRIP OF A LIFETIME WITH A SLIGHT CHANCE OF HOOKING INTO AND LANDING A GIANT TARPON OFF THE BEACH AFTER WORKING YOUR ARSE OFF IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT, THEN I WOULD SAY THAT GABON IS THE PERFECT DESTINATION FOR YOU.”

one in Gabon where you would often fish it for four or five hours a day and a cast is made almost every minute.

Maintenance of your casting hand and pacing yourself to ensure that you last the full ten days were things we often discussed before and during the trip, but at the end of the day you just keep going for as long as there’s water in front of you. Your physical condition slowly breaks down as the trip progresses and pretty soon lunchtime discussions revolve around what brand of tape is best to protect your hands or how can you stop the blisters from popping. By day three proper blisters were forming on my casting hand and my wrist seemed to have lost the ability to correct a badly timed cast. A casting glove and layers of thick tape protected the blisters from popping, but the pain soon progressed to a place where my entire casting hand hurt deep into

54

the bone structure and I ended up using Voltaren Gel like hand cream between fishing sessions. For the record, Voltaren made absolutely no difference.

end so soon. At least you have a set of proper trophy callouses to show for your efforts.

Fishing the 10-weight after the 12 feels like you’re holding a stream rod, and morning sessions spent chasing Jacks are like a beach holiday to a mine worker. You actually bluff yourself into believing that a mellow morning session will rejuvenate you for the coming evening session . But when the sun sets and you pick up the 12-weight, it takes half an hour of casting to loosen up (or maybe numb) the casting muscles.

Veni, vidi, vici…… or not.

If it’s a fly-caught tarpon you want I would suggest that you spend your hard earned cash and head straight to Costa Rica. Do not pass Go. Do not collect grip and grin pictures from your guide.

By the end of the trip there’s a lot of pain in the casting hand and every other muscle even remotely used while casting, but despite this you wish that the trip wasn’t coming to an

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

Tarpon

If, on the other hand, you’re more into a trip of a lifetime with a slight chance of hooking into and landing a giant tarpon off the beach after working your arse off in the dead of night, then I would say that Gabon is the perfect destination for you.

This being their third trip to Sette Cama, John and Conrad are old

hands, both in the literal sense and in the sense that they had a fairly good idea on how to deal with tarpon in Gabon. The advice was simple: fish your best gear, pre-set the drag as tight as humanly possible and set the hook on every pull that you get as if it’s a tarpon. Take no prisoners, hold on tight and definitely don’t cuddle up to these fish. That’s some solid advice, but by our second last session we’d only seen one tarpon all week and that was a fish another guest, Derek, jumped on the third night.

Now, we are fishing the north bank of the river with fish moving out of a small creek into the main river with the dropping tide. Just like every other evening we can hear the action pick up along with the speed of the current and the mullet are getting smashed out there in the darkness. When the take finally comes, old muscle memory

kicks in – get a firm grip on the line, give a solid strip strike and hold on.

Unfortunately I forget the golden rules and the fly comes back at me as the tarpon lands not even five metres away. That’s when the soul searching starts and later that night the moment is dissected, analysed and finally drowned in a lot of whiskey. To cut a long and sad story short, I managed to get three tarpon bites in those last sessions and failed miserably to convert even one of them past the point of attempting to set the hook.

What a Bob Hope…

On our final evening we got to see the power of these West African giants when Conrad hooked into what must have been a very big tarpon. I first became aware of the take when I heard the reel handle smash his knuckles and stripping basket. When I looked over I could just make out his silhouette

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

and he was almost crouched over the reel to try and gain some control over proceedings. The speed with which that fish took off was something I have never seen before, but even with a drag set at eight kilos you could tell that this fish was unstoppable. Conrad and John disappeared down the beach to give chase but, unfortunately, even that tarpon was no match for the shark that found him after he had just stripped off five hundred metres of backing.

Shortly after that Jannie and I got chased off the water by a hippo and we decided that it was time to head back to the lodge. As we finished the last of our Bellville Briefcase (papsak) and considered the orgy/love affair/ psychological abuse of the past ten days’ fishing, the post-coital fishing depression was already beginning to set in.

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PROFILE

THE WORLD ACCORDING TO ROLF FI LM M A KE R, M U S I CI AN , TROUT FAN , RO LF NYLIND ER I S A RG UA BLY T H E U N IQUE VOICE IN FLY FISHING FILMS. H E TA LKS TO U S A BO UT BIRDS VS TROUT, NIN JA BEARS, F RI E ND S , FI LM D I RECTOR WES ANDERSEN AND LEMMING C O FFE E . AS YO U RE A D ROLF’S STORY WE URGE YOU TO BRE A K FRO M T H E TEX T AND FOLLOW THE LIN KS TO H I S VI D EO S. YOU WON’T REGRET IT. Photos: Rolf Nylinder, Ida Helleberg, Emil Westrin

THE ARCTIC CIRCLE Home is Umeå a fairly big city of 100 000 people in Northern Sweden. I live in the forest, half an hour outside the city. I have a threehour drive till I get inside the Arctic Circle. Some of my friends live inside the circle, which is way better than living outside the circle. You know when you’re in the circle – you get this feeling in the stomach. It hits you. It’s spiritual I guess. You feel it.

When you’re in the Arctic Circle, the heat from the camp fire is a little bit warmer. It’s like five degrees warmer.

In Sweden you don’t really see a lot of wild animals. Inside the circle, you get reindeer all over, but they are

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not really wildlife. The Sami people that are the natives there, they have the reindeers. They don’t fence them, but there’s an owner for every reindeer. When you sit by the river making coffee you could, perhaps, see a beaver. We have quite a lot of bears, but Swedish bears are like ninjas, you don’t see them. But they don’t really attack either so I guess they’re just there, a creature in the background. One thing that’s really good about Northern Sweden is that it’s easy to have an interest in wildlife, plants and birds. Because there isn’t a lot of it, you can learn to recognize all those that are there. In a place like New Zealand or Sri Lanka, you have no chance of knowing everything. It feels like every Swedish person that

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was born before the 1940s, they all know everything. But after that most people stopped learning about nature.

MY FISHING I mainly fish for trout not salmon. I really like the idea of a rising fish or sight fishing. With salmon, it’s just like one big river and you know there are salmon there so you just shrug your fly out in the stream and hope for the best. Then you repeat that for the whole day. And nothing happens.

With trout, you don’t go around casting unless there’s a good shot. Okay, it’s rising, you get your shot. Sometimes, I don’t cast because I don’t find fish. I like that idea of fishing.

Most fishing this year has been close to home in tiny creeks where I know there isn’t really a fish worthy of catching but I’ve got like two hours to go down to the river to see if they’re rising. I can do that with my son on my back in a backpack. The other day he slept for three hours in the middle of the day so I tried to be in the right position when he fell asleep and then I had an hour or two of fishing. It’s getting harder.

I also do short trips to the mountains, five days somewhere. I like those because then you can let go of everything else. If you’re fishing two hours from home, you just have the stress of needing to get home.

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FILM Growing up in Uppsala, further south in Sweden, there was a Norwegian TV show at the time, Bård&Lars, by Lars Nilssen, which featured two comedians fly fishing.

They made what I would say are the best fly fishing movies ever made. It was not really a fly fishing show, but a comedy travel show. Like I have in all my videos, they always had this idea of “catching a fish”. That was, sort of, the driver of the story, but it was about something else. That show got me into the idea of making fly fishing films.

I started making videos when I was 15. It’s always been there in some way. I was studying to be a forestry biologist, then I got into snowboarding while in school. So I quit school and went snowboarding and never came back. I was a semiprofessional snowboarder. Making videos of yourself snowboarding and skateboarding is so much part of that culture, so I guess I learned filming then. Filmmaking and fly fishing combine really well compared to snowboarding and filmmaking. It’s really hard to make a snowboarding movie that actually has a story.

Okay, you jump down the mountain and…now you’re down. If you are really interested in snowboarding or skateboarding, you can watch the videos, but you have to have such a strong interest. All the things I do, I was never taught. I am self-taught.

Most things I do for some time and then I do something else that I have no idea about. Making fly fishing films is the only thing that I’ve done almost constantly.

VOICES I am not that obsessed with catching big fish right now but, for ten years, I was insanely obsessed. I could still be.

However, looking at all these photos of big fish that you see so often, I don’t think they make a good photo, even if the fish is super cool. If I am stoked to

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catch a fish, that’s something that goes on inside of me.

I’m very aware that it is insane to want to travel the world and hook a trout, just to watch it for a few seconds and let it swim away. It’s nonsense. But it’s also the dearest thing I have in my life. I wish I could put everything in one and just do hard core films about the fish. I don’t really have an answer as to how my

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films became the way they are. To make a love story movie about a fish, you can’t have somebody being interviewed saying, “I love the fish.” I guess it’s like with poetry, you can’t just say it. The problem with most hard core films for snowboarders or fishers or whatever, is that the talking is saying the same things as the pictures. Saying, “I love this river” or, “I love this fish”… Okay, but that’s why you made this movie!

In many videos, usually at the beginning, I just say something like, “The most important thing in life is to catch a trout on a dry fly.” It’s good to put something like that out there, to tell the viewer what this nonsense is about. That it actually means something for us to go out and catch a fish. In the fly fishing community, everyone who puts out a fly fishing film knows that storyline. What I love the

“THE PROBLEM WITH MOST HARD CORE FILMS FOR SNOWBOARDERS OR FISHERS, IS THAT THE TALKING IS SAYING THE SAME THINGS AS THE PICTURES.”

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most, is when somebody who is not a fly fisher likes watching my movies.

Then that means that it actually has a story or something else. I appreciate that very much. However, I don’t “hate” fly fishing porn. Some of the shots that you see, you go, “What!?!”

I appreciate that for a movie like that to be good requires insane shots of insane fish and those are so hard to get.

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a living off it. We sell coffee mainly in Sweden and in Japan, Demark and London. It’s not a lot and I still do some film work. Sometimes I do commercials for an organisation like the Northern Sweden Tourism Centre.

All the sponsors I have had for my fishing trips have been super nice.

They’re like, “Do whatever you want and we can put our logo in your film.” I’m very happy about that. But I can’t live on that. With fly fishing I sometimes get my trips paid for, but I don’t want fly fishing films to be the cornerstone of my economy.

WORK Some of my friends and I work on this brand called Lemmel Kaffe. It means Lemming Coffee. We make Swedish traditional coffee that you’re supposed to boil out in the forest over an open fire. You will see in all of my videos, even before we started Lemmel Kaffe, we always had this little pot over the fire. That’s what we call Kokkaffe. Latte coffee, espresso and also the American coffee culture is taking over Sweden so we thought okay, we’re going to fight back. It’s going pretty well. For now, we make

The best “work” days are of course when you wake up in a tent somewhere. Being with your family at home, there’s always this little thing in the back of your head longing to be out there fishing. But then, when you finally get to the river, it’s like, ‘This is good, but maybe I should be with my son and my girlfriend.’ I guess it’s common for fly fishers. I’m trying to figure out how to live in both worlds, to find a balance. There are these people who quit their jobs just to fish every day. Looking at those people, and from my own experience of fishing too much, I feel that the glory of fishing is swept away. I like fishing to be something special in my day.

MUSIC My wannabee music project is called ‘The Mosvold Hotel.’ I love playing music by myself. I started making small sounds to put into my videos and then I thought, ‘Let’s give it a try’. I’m very aware of the fact that, like my videos, it’s going to be shit for the first 200 times.

When I made a video, ‘Trout is All’ with the music “Love is all” from The Tallest Man on Earth, I got a lot of positive feedback. I know that the pictures are twenty per cent of the video and eighty per cent is the song, so I guess I just have the perverse

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idea that I want to be the creator of everything in my own videos.

So I had to try making the music myself. It’s not really turning out so well with my own songs but I’m proud when it’s not completely shit.

It’s going to be way better if I just take someone else’s sound, but I want to create it myself. It feels better.

It’s like wanting to tie your own flies.

In the end I do these videos for myself. Though I still think I could learn to make a song someday, I’m lazy and not a person who actually practises the craft. I just make a video or a song or something else.

That’s why the first hundred tries are going to be bad.

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there for six months. That’s how I got to know him. Then we made that movie, ‘Only the River Knows’. We went to Kamchatka together. Since he was 15, he’s been all over. I don’t know of anyone who’s been in so many places.

I call him and he’s in Panama. Peter was in Kamchatka when he was 15, no helicopter, walking. It’s the wildest place. He’s way more badass than me.

FRIENDS I don’t really have anybody in particular that I fish with. For the first ten years I fished with my brothers. My friends all go fishing all the time and when I follow along it’s just about who happens to be there. They don’t have any say in it.

I love fishing on my own. The thing is, I love making movies and to make a movie, it’s way easier if you’re not alone.

Friends are super important of course.

Because I’m a lazy, dreaming person, I

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just follow the movement of my friends.

I’d love to be more of a leader. Like my friend, Peter Christensen. He’d say “next year I am going to go to Siberia and then hike across Northern Russia.”

People know about Peter. I met Peter on some Internet dating site called Skype or something. We were talking and I had nothing to do one New Year’s Eve so I took a plane down to Denmark and just went out drinking with him that night and then two weeks later we went to New Zealand and stayed

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Then there are all these other people that feature in my films. They are all super kind, good fly fishers and handsome. I guess I could post a list here of my fishing buddies, but easier would be to follow our new fly fishing crew on Instagram: @podsolflyfishing.

I don’t really know what it’s gonna be, we just started it. After visiting the most inspiring people, “The Shaku Hunters”, in Sendai, Japan, we decided that we need a fly fishing gang ourselves, to celebrate fly fishing in our part of the world. I’m not sure what a fly fishing crew does really, but I guess we’re going to go fishing and post pictures of us holding nice brown trout with northern Scandinavia as the backdrop. Then we’ll probably smile a little and use tons of hashtags involving Frederic Halford, Frank Sawyer and perhaps “Ismo” (Ismo Hyvärinen).

BIRDS Lately, I’ve become more focused on birds. Wherever you go, there are always birds. It’s hard to find a rising trout, but there will always be a bird there. And they are beautiful. Most of the bird videos happened because I was not finding trout. Once I went to a bird hide where you’re supposed to sit waiting for an eagle to come and feed in front of you. It was minus twenty degrees. Two days in a row.

No fucking birds. It was the worst.

There was this TV show in Sweden where they hired me just to film the birds to cut into the scenes, so I guess I’m quite good at filming birds. I have nothing bad to say about them, but I’d rather film a rising trout.

It’s sort of the same – walking by a river or walking in the forest. Most people just pass the trout. It’s well camouflaged, but it’s super obvious if you spot it or if you have learnt to look for it. It’s like that with birds.

The more I look for them, the more

I see. What I’m happy about with birds or all kinds of nature is, when you’re going on a fishing trip and you’ve learnt to look for the birds and learned to look for the plants, it gives you a way bigger experience.

It’s the same for me as a skateboarder, when I go into the city, I immediately spot the places where you can go skateboarding. I like opening up worlds.

THE PLANET It feels sort of scary. In Sweden, every summer is warmer than the one before and now we have forest fires all over. I know my place. I don’t know anything. I can go around and be worried or ignore things, but I’m nothing. I can do videos saying it’s fucked in Kamchatka which is going to change nothing. My take is that I don’t have a clue. All we can do is trust the scientists, and do the opposite of what we are doing and just try to be as kind

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as possible to the planet and hope for the best.

The planet in itself is going to survive.

One option is to keep on doing what we do and then kill the human species.

A few million years will pass and the planet will be happy again. In the context of history, we’re a head cold for the planet, but it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try to cure that cold.

What I enjoy doing is creating paradise in my videos. Some people aren’t aware that I am building a lie.

You want there to be a rising trout there. People don’t want to know I filmed that one two years before and put it in there because there were no fish rising. I create stories and illusions, frame out the trash on the shore or the hydropower upstream.

It’s not “honest documentaries”. The Kamchatka film was more of an honest kind of movie. It was good for me to make something that isn’t just about a paradise I’ve created.

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T R AV E L

FATTIES & MOMBAKKIES T HE RE A RE FI S H YO U TARGET TO TICK OFF A LIST. THEN T H E RE A RE OT H E R FI SH, IN OTHER PL ACES, LIKE THE GTS O F FA R- NO RT H E RN KWAZULU-NATAL, THAT YOU CHASE FOR DI FFE RE NT RE AS O NS. JAZZ K U SCH K E PACKED HIS BIB S H O RTS A ND RO D E OFF TO TRY TO KEEP UP WITH ANDY CO ETZEE.

While the legs seemed to be pistoning on that old familiar rhythm – it is, after all, just like ‘riding a bike’ – inwardly I was giving myself a proper punch-up, beating myself up for having fallen into that false sense of efficient riding: Pedal. Pedal. Pedal. Stand-up. Freewheel.

I was spinning granny gear too. Scuttling at a cadence not unlike that of the ghost crabs phantoming up and down the beach.

A confession then: I’m a lapsed cyclist. Dig deep enough (into the otherwise rather unimpressive palmarés) and you’ll find two Absa Cape Epics; a couple of fast-ish Double Centuries; and a handful of ‘Argusses’ near the hallowed three-hour mark. Nowadays I write bike races, rather than ride them. Economies of scale, you understand.

I still shave my legs, mind you. It’s a credibility thing. If I walk up to a pro for a finish-line interview after he (or just as often she) has just clinched the bunch sprint and I’m sporting shorts and Salomon trail shoes (no socks) with bald pins protruding, there is an instant rapport. Instant.

I didn’t shave my legs for a trip up to Maputaland however. Should’ve, perhaps, maybe I would’ve fooled those legs into more efficient riding.

Bikes on the beach Up ahead Andy Coetzee was disappearing in the predawn gloom of our second day. It was that inbetween time of the morning when you aren’t sure whether to turn off your headlamp and gamble that your eyes will adjust to the ambient light for navigation; or, to keep it beaming for a further 10 minutes so you can actually see your way round all manner of washings-up.

Andy’s four-inch broad mountain bike tracks were intermittently tread-clear and faint, as the pushing tide sent licks of warm Indian Ocean up the sloping beach. His track ran straight, showing just how efficiently he was making the most of the tricky side camber gradient. No roller-coasting for the old salt. My track, on the other hand, went this way and that, as I was trying to trace the hard bits of sand where the tongues of the shorebreak had retreated.

Pedal. Pedal. Crank up the slope.

Freewheel on the slight descent.

Suck air. Repeat.

In bike-riding terms, it was downright embarrassing. But, there was no-one around to judge and, getting to ride a bike on a deserted beach at dawn, in the middle of a work week, while making your way to a fishing spot should be an exhilarating experience.

After the start of the year I’d had – characterised by a few proper cosmic bitch-slaps by way of big mechanical car repairs, dramas in the extended family and merciless deadlines – I owed myself some ‘air.

So, I sucked with relish and checked the cyclist ego. Grumpy editors and content planning schedules pushed far to the back of mind. Instead, I thought of Wikus. Somewhere behind me, he was enveloped in his own bubble of headlamp light, putting one foot in front of the other. He was on foot for a reason.

As the rather youthful MD of the Southern African arm of a large multinational corporation, Wikus works hours that don’t allow too much time for anything else, let alone exercise. He also hadn’t ridden a bike since he was 13, so there wasn’t much muscle memory for him to click into. I had conned him into coming on the trip as a something of a stress release, an excuse to spend some time around his old haunts of Richard’s Bay and Sodwana. I’d kept the bike riding details brief. ‘We’ll just be riding a few kays along the beach,’ I told him. ‘Easy game.’

Off the back of driving the entire way from Cape Town to Sodwana (a round trip that would total more than 4000 kilometres), Wikus’s experience of the first day’s ride is one we’ll talk about around the fire for years to come. To make matters worse, I’d also somehow neglected to tell him to bring bib shorts. Not that any non-cyclist would willingly climb into bib-shorts. Until you explain saddle sores. No explanation was needed after day one, when a wrong turn on the way back to Gugulesizwe Lodge saw Wikus riding way north back in Sodwana’s direction for quite some distance. In the dark. Instead of north by east to dinner and a fire donkeyboiled hot shower.

Come day 2, Wikus was done with spinning the pedals on that iron horse. Instead, he chose to rather slog it out on foot. No matter the distances.

The Legend Returns Some lung busting minutes later I rounded the bay to where Andy was already rigging an ageing 12-weight Loomis. The only thing fat about Andy, is his bike. There’s not an ounce of fat on the 60-plus-year-old, 6’3 frame of biltong.

Andy is a cyclist. He rides often and far. He has multiple Ironman finishes

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under his camo Rip Curl boardies, has ridden various stage races (including jozi2kozi) on a singlespeed and he leads backcountry mountain-biking tours in Lesotho, the Transkei and Mozambique. Once, just for fun, he and his twin brother rode their fat bikes 500kms in Mozambique from Pomene to Bilene.

On this day though, our fatties had carried us from our very agreeable lodgings at Gugulesizwe to ‘Old Rocktail Bay’ a spot which, on more

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modern maps, is marked ‘De Wet’s Baai’ so as to not be confused with actual Rocktail Bay. The idea of using the bikes was to access fishing spots which usually would require a lengthy slog through the sand.

We’d come to target a fish that holds a much revered place in South African saltwater fly-fishing lore. The Maputaland GT (Caranx ignoblis) is something of a unicorn.

To bring a good one, 100cm plus, to hand from shore in South Africa

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is holy grail stuff, the tales of which are whispered in hushed tones and linked to names like the late, great Paul Weingartz, Arno Van Der Nest and Ben Pretorius. More recently it has dominated the attentions of Peter Coetzee (no relation to Andy) and the brothers Kyle, among others. The ‘100 Club’ - that’s where you want your name.

Just a degree or three colder than the sea, the air was heady with that very particular musty brine

you encounter only on a tropical reef at dawn. “In my death file,” Andy mused, scrunching his sunweathered face to peer past me over the reef toward where the sun was peaking, “It says that when I die I get cremated. And, on a spring high tide – which is always at 16:30 in the afternoon – my ashes get scattered right here.”

The irony was not lost on me. Here was a man nearly twice my age talking about death, while I was

sucking hard to get my breath back while my heart was still pounding at north of 160 bpm. I just nodded.

“Everyone present – those who are going to remember me – will have a hit of warm Jack Daniels … ‘cos that’s just how you do it here.”

the reef edge to punch his south-paw casts out at those hallowed brutes he’s brawled with so many times over the years.

Mombakkies

With that Andy flung a worn kit belt around his waist, strapped on the cheap washing basket (the only surfzone stripping basket in his book) and set off with a bow-legged gait toward

This would be our third session of the trip. The previous day had seen us fish a hard chunk of hours at both dawn and dusk without reward. It was shoulder season for ignobilis, to be fair, but when an opportunity to fish and ride bikes with a legend presents

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itself, you don’t bother yourself too much with those kind of details.

Instead you fill up with optimism and pile everything into the dream. You tie way too many flies; read everything you can; and, spend countless hours fussing over gear and tackle packing lists. You adopt ‘fuck the forecast’ as a mantra and just go.

The last time I’d been in the area was back in 2005 on assignment for Getaway magazine. That trip featured many other things on a tight itinerary so I had scant time to fish. I did get one session on the Kosi Lakes system with a local guide from the lodge.

Ever since, those mangrove-backed estuary scenes have remain burned to memory and pushed me to return for a proper crack at ‘The Maputaland GT’.

“It’s hard fishing here,” he’d said, nursing a liter bottle of sparkling water. Despite the reference to friends and family throwing back Jack when they throw his ashes in the sea, Andy hasn’t touched anything harder than Appletizer since he was 30.

“In the surf zone you might fish for two or three days and not get a pull.

So it’s not like the Seychelles. If you cut your teeth in the surf here, you’re going to know how many beans make five.”

With that out the way, he’d gotten philosophical about the state of the world and our oceans (this after he had regaled us with just what it took to catch that doggy in the Seychelles from The Smithsonian Channel’s ‘Fishing for Giants’).

Two (very) blank sessions can test the cheer of the most highly vibrating fishing soul however and we were all rather eager to open the account.

With rats even.

“If we were here 15 years ago it would’ve been very different. We would’ve had at least two big pulls and probably missed a couple,” he’d said.

“This place can easily give you mombakkies,” Andy had said the previous night in what I hoped was a reverse-psychology ploy to buoy enthusiasm levels. It was needed because after three rods had thrown a whole spectrum of flies over two long sessions, we were still ‘mombakkies’ - the very colloquial Afrikaans expression for ‘blank.’

“On the same conditions at the same time of year,” he’d added smartly, preempting my question. “A lot has changed over recent years. The ocean is empty! There aren’t any fish left. It’s a scary thought and a very sad thing. We didn’t see any baitfish, we didn’t see any shoals of mullet we saw very, very little there. It was like a desert.”

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Andy would know. Maputaland is in his bones. He first landed in the area as a parabat during the Mozambique civil war and then returned around 1984 as something of a civilian jackof-all-trades. Armed with an honours degree in Nature Conservation and a broad encyclopaedic knowledge of local flora and fauna, he worked for the Department of Development Aid, in association with Rhodes University’s Ichthyology Department, to help correct fishing methods by combining western techniques with local knowledge. He did turtle research and even helped with the establishment of a few of the large commercial cashew plantations. Later, he was employed

by Wilderness Safaris to assess who benefits most from nature conservation - the private sector; authorities or local communities. This eventually lead to tourism proper and full-time lodge management.

In between he fished and guided. A lot, on fly, or when conditions called

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for conventional, with a Scarborough reel. Today he chases monster fish for video productions on various international networks – most recently The Smithsonian Channel – is a passionate free diver, runs fat bike tours and takes international clients on immersive overnight tours into Soweto.

He is fluent in the local tongue and, perhaps more importantly, has an in depth understanding of the traditions and mythologies of the area. He reckons it’s just a matter of time until he finds himself full time in Maputaland once again.

The Rat Race I snapped out of the reverie of the previous night’s philosophizing and got to tackling up. The myriad tight little bush tunnels we had to navigate on the bikes meant there was no way of carrying multiple rigged rods on the pack. This meant each session called for a

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full rig and derig. Stringing up two rods, as I had the previous day, just didn’t feel worth it right then. Instead of the 12-weight I’d thrown most of the previous day, I opted for a 9-weight and went with an intermediate for a bit of extra punch into the wind and shore break. I was just about to wander toward the drop-off when Wikus trudged into frame. He hadn’t lost too much time on his dawn walk and looked cheerful. Amped even.

So fresh that his 8-weight NRX almost rigged itself. He tied on a small Charlie and hit up a rocky outcrop a little way down the beach that he’d been eyeing the previous day. He was on the water before me and within minutes was into a small wave garrick. The rat race had been won and the mombakkies broken!

That Wikus opened the account was a beautiful thing. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t relieved.

Ahead lay two more sessions in the immediate area and then a quick

GEAR UP

SHOP THE MISSION FAT B I K E F LY F I S H I N G E S S E N T I A L S

Bib shorts Surly Moonlander

hit on Kosi mouth. We’d all eventually get among the rats, keeping entertained with wave Garrick, as well as big eye and yellow spot kingies.

GAS HED Mullets Marlo Steel Boss Reel

Salomon backpack

Chamois cream

Available from LeRoy Botha (flashandbloodfly.wixsite. com/flashandblood

Utshwayelo Lodge & Camp

Andy fished the heathen stick too, throwing huge plugs with that Scarborough in a practiced trajectory, also without big success. In a way it is better it worked out this way. I’d have been super chuffed with Ignoblis, even a rat, although that hallowed SA 100 club is the goal of any SA fly fisher. Not getting one, a small one even, turned this into a Yeti story of sorts (the animal, not the cooler). Prior to this trip, if I’m honest, they were never high on my list, perhaps because I live on the other side of the country, but now they haunt my waking dreams.

Situated 100 meters from the Kosi Bay gate of the iSimangaliso Wetland Park, this is the ideal launch pad from which to fish the area. They Utshwayelo offers a variety of accommodation and catering options, including an epic little honesty-system bar. www.kosibay.info/

Gugulesizwe Research Camp

Named after the scientists and researchers for whom it was originally built, Gugulesizwe Research Camp is an exclusive tented camp a short stroll from Gugulesizwe Dive Camp.

It features a well- equipped kitchen, open-plan chill area, pool and deck.

Oh, and fire-donkey showers of a quality Wikus can attest to (the man does only five star).maputalandtravel.

Next year March, hey Andy?

I’ll shave my legs….

co.za/gugulesizwe-research-camp/

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C&F DESIGNS - CFA-112 POWER FLOAT Not to be confused with a powerfloater (aka the Bismarck of turds), this floatant gel from C&F Designs keeps something you want to float…your dry fly…floating. Great for CDC too. www.frontierflyfishing.co.za, www.c-and-f.co.jp

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

THOMAS & THOMAS - ZONE Thomas & Thomas do premium fly rods very well. This we know from their Exocett, Avantt and Contact ranges.

But when, for the first time, they dipped their toe into “mid-priced” fly rod territory with the Zone range – they won the ‘IFTD Best of Show Saltwater rod award for 2018’. That’s maybe all you need to know about how good these rods are. Made by hand by the same

PATAGONIA - MEN’S SNAP-DRY HOODY The name’s a give-away. This technical fishing hoody can be snap-dried with a quick, Golden Retriever-like shake thanks to its DWR (Durable Water Repellent) finish. Throw in moisture-wicking insulation, a durable stretchiness, a zippered fly box front pocket, adjustable hook and loop cuffs and a hood that easily fits over a cap and you have an essential piece of kit for fly fishing, regardless of whether the weather messes with you or not. www.patagonia.com

team of Massachusetts-based rod builders, Zone rods even use the same StratoTherm resin as the more highend Exocett and Avantt ranges. Released to market in October, they are all four-piece rods, from freshwater options starting at a 7’6” 3-weight to the heaviest saltwater, a 9’0” 10-weight. thomasandthomas.com

RIO - DIRECTCORE BONEFISH LINE Like an obedient underling, Rio’s new DirectCore Bonefish line does what you want it to. It floats like it should, turns over bonefish snacks like a dream thanks to its mid-taper, has a long head and rear taper for casting changeability and is both stretchable and stiff, lying straight as an arrow on the water. The rest – casting, striking, fighting the fish – is your job. www.rioproducts.com, www.xplorerflyfishing.co.za

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SEIGLER - BF REEL Nothing like lost fish to inspire innovation.

A player in the conventional game, Seigler entered the fly fishing reel market this year after owner Wes Seigler had another brand’s reels fail on him on a Seychelles trip. Enter the Seigler BF 11-14-weight reel with its unique lever action drag which allows you to pre-set the drag to preferred settings.

Made from aircraft grade aluminium, it weighs 11.8 ozs/335gms and holds 400 yards/365m of 50 lb braid with a 12-weight WF shooting line. Endorsed by Keys tarpon guides, we’re looking to get our hands on it for a long-term review. www.seigler.fish

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L AT ES T R E L E A S ES

THE SALAD BAR REDINGTON - GRANDE FLY REEL Take Redington’s Behemoth reel, give it an Iron-man meets Hulk makeover and you have the Grande, a fully anodized, machined aluminium reel with Redington’s new super-torque carbon drag system. This is Redington’s big fish slugger with an oversized palming rim, increased backing capacity and easy to locate drag knob and handle. Available from a 5/6/7-weight to a 14+ and in black, marine or our preferred flavour, champagne (for toasting victory), the Grande comes in a palatable price range too. From $299 to $349. www.redington.com, www.xplorerflyfishing.co.za RIO - KAHUNA STRIKE INDICATORS To be filed in the “duh, why didn’t I think of that category,” Rio’s new Kahuna strike indicators use floating fly line with the core removed, through which you thread your tippet. They stay where you place them, but are 100% adjustable for when you want to increase or decrease the distance between your fly and the indicator. As aerodynamic as your fly line, they land softly too. Available in Thick and Thin. www.rioproducts.com, www.xplorerflyfishing.co.za

ELECTRIC - TECH ONE With staff DNA from both Arnette and Nixon, Electric sunglasses were always going to be pimping aesthetically, but, wonder of wonders, they are also brilliantly functional.

Even better, these guys also have an entire range dedicated to fishing. Our pick of the polarized fishing shades has to be the Tech One XLS with the bronze-tinted OHM+ Polarized Polycarbonate Lens complete with hydrophobic and oleophobic coatings (to combat your saltwater and sun cream fingers). Performance grip nose pads and plasti-cam hinge give you extreme comfort with none of the brain-pinch some shades suckerpunch you with after a long day on the flats. Designed in California, made in Italy, lifetime warranty. www.electriccalifornia.com

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PATAGONIA & DANNER - RIVER SALT BOOTS Best in Show at the recent ICAST/IFTD show in the USA, keep an eye out for the wading boot collaboration between Patagonia & Danner boots. They’re not cheap at around $500, but are billed as the last pair of boots you’ll ever buy, because they can be resoled and repaired. There are two models, the Foot Tractor and the River Salt, but it’s the latter more lightweight model designed for fresh or salt that speaks to us the most. We will be doing a long term review in due course.

Release date: February 2019. www.patagonia.com

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TRUMP THIS! TWO OF MAVUNGANA FLYFISHING’S GUIDES/SHOP BOSSES. ONE A DULLSTROOM GURU, THE OTHER A JOBURG YOKEL. HOW DO THEY MATCH UP?

JOHNY Manager: John Thoabala Favourite place to guide: Pongola

HO BBIT

Manager: Rowan Black Favourite place to guide: Sterkfontein

Favourite place to fish: Indian Ocean Flats Favourite type of fishing: Sight fishing

Favourite place to fish: Norway Favourite type of fishing: Yellow Fishing Favourite fishing clothing brand: Loop

Favourite fishing clothing brand: Patagonia One knot to do it all: Uni, all the way

One knot to do it all: Perfection loop Favourite drink: Five Roses Tea

Amazing trait: Being able to chat and give advice in the shop in six of our official languages Worst trait: No understanding of the word ‘Discount’ in

any of our official languages.

Music: The very best of lucky Dube – Different Colours Sunnies: Yellow lens light enhancing Loop Personal vehicle: ‘The Porsche’ my pristine white Citi Golf

HIGHEST WINS

Favourite drink: Single Malt Amazing trait: I’m very honest

Worst trait: I’m very honest Music: Pearl Jam, Chilli Peppers

Sunnies: Smith Chromo pop – amber lens….

Personal vehicle: Double cab for fishing, friends and clients.

HIGHEST WINS

WANT TO GET KITTED OUT AND CLUED UP WITH THE JOHANNESBURG HEAD HONCHO OR THE DULLSTROOM SAVANT? GET IN TOUCH NOW FOR THE BEST GEAR AND TACKLE, TIPS AND TACTICS!

Mavungana Flyfishing Johannesburg 011 268 5850

WWW.FLYFISHING.CO.ZA

Mavungana Flyfishing Dullstroom 013 254 0270

WANDS

THE SALAD BAR SAGE – IGNITER RODS Fan of the Sage Method? Or maybe you just have a love for fast rods in general and are looking for a new bazooka. If that’s the case, consider the new Sage Igniter, which is designed for when long, accurate casts in testing conditions are required. Available from 4-weight to

10-weight, all Igniters are 9-foot 4-piece rods except for the 10-foot 7-weight. Sterkfontein in a toupée-removing wind with a hopper-sipping yellow at 60ft? Pick up the 5 or 6-weight and show it who’s boss. www.sageflyfish.com, www.frontierflyfishing.co.za

SCIENTIFIC ANGLERS – AMPLITUDE SMOOTH Love Scientific Anglers Amplitude lines? Well, you now have more options with the release of not one, but six variants of their Amplitude Smooth lines. Instead of a coating, these lines feature AST Plus, a slickness additive designed to combat parasitic drag particles (aka dirt). That means less friction. That means a super slick line. That means better casting, more time fishing and, if our logic is correct…more fish. Available in the Trout, Bonefish, the Anadro/Nymph, the Grand Slam (bonefish, permit and tarpon), the Titan Long (freshwater big fly line) and the Infinity (the allrounder). Now in South Africa at Frontier Fly Fishing. www.scientificanglers.com, www.frontierflyfishing.co.za

MAUI JIM – GREAT BARRIER REEF SMALL Another cracking wrap style pair of shades from the crew at Maui Jim, the Great Barrier Reef hits that design sweet spot between functional sports usage (“Bluefin at 9 ‘o’clock, 20m out! Cast you fool!”) and real world civilian application (“would you mind chucking another shrimp on the Barbie, Sheila?”). As usual you get a choice of upscale lens (SuperThin glass) and frame colour options (black with silver and grey, blue with turquoise and brown with gold). www.mauijim.com

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PATAGONIA – LONG-SLEEVED STRETCH SHIRT Fly fishing fashion just keeps getting better and better as this long-sleeved stretch shirt from Patagonia proves.

A 52% nylon/48% polyester blend it’s ultralight, dries quickly and offers you 30UPF sun protection (gingers rejoice). The stretch fabric allows greater movement while casting, while the two vertical chest pockets with corrosion resistant zippers are good for stashing tippet, small fly boxes etc. To top it off, it would not look bad at the bar either. Now available in South Africa at Mavungana Flyfishing. www.flyfishing.co.za, www.patagonia.com

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Introducing the new EVO and XTR machined reels

M U S T H AV ES

PAYDAY BOTE BOARDS – RACKHAM AERO There’s SUPing and then there’s SUPing and fishing. The former looks like fun, but requires preternatural balance à la Laird Hamilton and an ability to find that elusive core (aka beer kryptonite).

When looking for a fishing SUP (Stand Up Paddelboard), first and foremost you want stability, so if you need to readjust your stance, move from side to side or are simply a clumsy mofo, you stand a chance of not scaring all fish within a two-mile radius with a belly flop.

We’re not saying a stable fishing SUP is for fat guys, but it does not preclude them (us). Next up on the list of priorities is portability, because, most honey holes are far from the madding crowd. If you live in a country with great wild areas, it usually takes a bit of extra effort to get there.

BORN TO FISH BY PAT GARRATT A legendary aquarist, Pat Garratt, (that’s Dr Pat to you) ran the Two Oceans Aquarium in Cape Town for decades, wrote Crazy! Adventures of a Marine Biologist and generally enlightened the world on all things fish-related. Now, in his retirement, he’s put out Born to Fish, a collection of stories that combines hardearned angling advice with accessible science about the environment in several engrossing stories. Pat says it’s aimed at young adults but will appeal to anyone who loves fishing or the oceans. www.amazon.com

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The Rackham Aero from Bote Boards ticks both these boxes and then some. With a large flat deck and thick rails for serious stability, it’s perfect for larger guys. Plus, it’s an inflatable SUP, so you can carry it in a backpack to where you need to be. Specced to the teeth, it features bungee straps, a paddle sheath (for when you want to stash the paddle quickly and reach for the rod), grippy deck pad, stashpod and cooler tie downs for your gear, plus both a grab handle and BOTE’s Travelling Carry System™ for transporting your SUP. Whether it’s sneaking up on redfish in Texas or hunting grunts on the Breede River (as seen here), it could just be the stealthy vessel of your fishy dreams. $1699 or $150 per month with BOTE’s monthly payment system. www.boteboard.com

Genuine

FLY T YING FEATHERS

Genetic

FF-DEC/JAN-004-15 FF-DEC/JAN-004-15

“WE’RE NOT SAYING A STABLE FISHING SUP IS FOR FAT GUYS, BUT IT DOES NOT PRECLUDE THEM (US).”

SHORTCASTS L O N G L I V E T H E Q U E E N , S AV I N G T H E VA A L , A F LY - T Y I N G G U R U G O E S L I V E , F LY B R U I N T H E K A L A H A R I A N D I N VA S I V E C R AW F I S H

CONSIDER… THE LOBSTER. The Louisiana Crawfish aka Red Swamp Crayfish aka Procambarus clarkia, an alien invasive species invading dams in the Free State. Nobody knows for sure how they got there (perhaps an aquarium genesis story akin to the Ninja Turtles), but bass fishermen are allegedly prime suspects. While itcould be crap environmentally, we have two questions. What do they taste like in a gumbo?

How soon till carp and largemouth yellowfish start taking crawfish patterns?

CHECK OUT… FLY CRAFT. With 35 years fly tying experience (and the South African Fly Tyer of the Year for two years running), Philip Meyer knows what he’s doing behind the vice.

Having just closed his bricks ‘n mortar store Winelands Fly Fishing, Meyer has launched his online shop with everything from specialised local salt patterns to nymphs,dries and tigerfish and largemouth yellowfish patterns. flycraft.co.za

SAVE… THE VAAL. Beloved of yellowfish fans, the mighty Vaal river is in serious trouble. Massive pollution from waste water to acid mine drainage and industry is decimating fish stocks and government appears to be nothing in response. Instead of wringing your hands together in despair and sharing Facebook links, get involved with SAVE (SAVE THE VAAL ENVIRONMENT), a non-profit organisation which aims to protect and maintain the environmental integrity of the Vaal River and its environs. These guys win legal battles against polluters. With their expertise and your support, the yellowfish have a chance. www.save.org.za WITNESS …the rebirth of FLY FISHING (aka Africa’s Original) the grand old dame of South African fly fishing magazines. New owners, new editors, new look, all digital. Check it out. www.saflyfishingmag.co.za

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WATCH... ...FLYBRU’s new video updates from the Northern Cape.

FlyBru, aka Matt Gorlei and Nick van Rensburg are guiding with Kalahari Outventures yokels Craig Eksteen, Taba ‘West’ Phiri and William Thembane Tatse Their playground? The Largemouth Yellowfish Conservancy on the Orange River, some of the most pristine smallmouth and largemouth yellowfish water available.

Van Rensburg says, “We’re in the middle of nowhere in the desert with time on our hands, insane fishing and camera equipment - what did you think would happen?” Expect some envy-inducing footage. www.instagram.com/flybru/

Nestled on secluded Impalila Island in Namibia, Ichingo Chobe River Lodge is a tented lodge surrounded by breathtaking scenery, abundant wildlife, birdlife and ideal fishing conditions. Part of the Zambezi Queen Collection, Ichingo Chobe River Lodge is set beneath a riverine canopy on the banks of the Chobe River and is perfect for families with children of all ages. Because of its unique geographic location, the game viewing and birdwatching in and around Ichingo Chobe River Lodge is second to none, while the lodge’s location is particularly well known for its high quality fishing. Perfect for experts and novices alike, you can hook a tiger fish, one of the many bream species, African pike, tilapia, catfish or upper Zambezi yellowfish as you explore mile upon mile of the Chobe and Zambezi Rivers. Our all-inclusive package includes secluded, comfortable accommodation, all meals and beverages, and expert guides, boats and equipment.

ZAMBEZI QUEEN COLLECTION

www.zqcollection.com

FLUFF

THE LALU BUG

W H AT ’ S I N A N A M E ? P L AT O N T R A K O S H I S O N T H E E T Y M O L O G Y A N D E N T O M O L O G Y O F H I S FAV O U R I T E R I V E R C A R P P AT T E R N .

By Platon Trakoshis.

Photos: Platon Trkoshis and Andre van Wyk

“Stavros! What are you doing! Get out of there, now!”

To my right, digging around kneedeep in the mud while waiting for me to follow through on a promise to go fishing, was my six-year-old son. To my left, a gaggle of confused-looking Cypriot art lure bass fishermen. In the middle, me, with a vice, doing a fly tying demonstration at a dam I fish at when on holiday in Cyprus.

I started the demo with a Clouser.

Clean. Simple. And a killer searching bass pattern. Then, because they’d seen me catch some bream on a dragonfly pattern earlier, the request came for me to tie “that fly”.

My fascination with insects started at a very young age when my Uncle Nicos, who lived next door to us in Zimbabwe, decided not to fix his broken pool and had it drained. It was one of those kidney-shaped pools with no edges and in the dry winters my friends and

I would spend hours skateboarding in the perfect bowl. Not quite Dogtown and Z-Boys, but around the same time. The first summer rains put an end to our fun as a puddle would start to form in the middle, but with the water came the blood worms and myriad water creatures that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Eventually, chunky dragonfly nymphs would appear which excited me no end. I don’t think I even knew what they were at the time.

Now, decades later, with a semicaptive audience, my bug nerdiness poured out of me like water from a squeezed sponge as I attempted to explain why I love dragonfly nymphs.

Blank faces all round.

Perhaps in an attempt to return the conversation to the basics, or because we Greeks love naming things, someone asked “What’s the fly called?”

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I have a thing for names because of the name my parents gave me.

My siblings received modern Greek names, Chris, Luke and Harry. I got strapped with an ancient Greek name and was sent off into an English speaking community to fend for myself. The nicknames flowed. At junior school I was called ‘Frog’ for a while, as in ‘Platanna’ the Frog. Later I got ‘Platypoes’ with the emphasis on the last syllable of this bastardised version of Australia’s weirdest animal.

So, mildly scarred for life, I was really reluctant to name my eldest son Stavros, after his late grandfather. If you’ve hung around Greeks enough it’s not an unusual name, but some find it hard to pronounce. It’s a strong name and he digs it. While in Cyprus, Stavros’s little brother, aged two, was struggling to pronounce his first words, so he just called Stavros ‘Lalu’, a name which stuck with us for the holidays.

Naming flies, like naming children, takes thought. For some, it’s an art.

Some names stick, others don’t.

Some attain eternal infamy, others enter the utilitarian jargon of regular anglers. There are some fantastic names out there from Galloup’s Sex Dungeon to Dry Humps, Butt Monkey and The Thing From Uranus – aka The Fly Formerly Known as Prince. It’s even better if your friends name one of your flies for you, because at least it shows they’re paying the fly some attention.

This particular fly came about when I was fishing the Berg River for carp.

Initially, as a species, I didn’t pay carp

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“IT MADE SENSE NAMING THE FLY AFTER THE SMALLER DRAGON FLY NYMPH FAMILY ORDERS, GOMPHIDAE AND LIBELLULIDAE, WHICH IT IMITATES.”

Platon Trakoshis waterboarding a fussy river carp that fell for a Lalu bug.

much attention. My friend Andre Van Wyk had been chasing them for a while and when we discovered the Berg River has fish as long as my arm, it soon became a weekly mission. These were large, sleek river carp, skittish as hell in the clear water. Having spent months trying to crack them, we eventually started having some success. Initially a red squirmy wormy was the favoured fly among my newbie crowd of carp chasers, but girdle bugs also sometimes worked. More often than not, nothing worked and we’d be left wading through clouds of mud rejections from feeding fish that had dashed off spooked, as if we’d thrown a rock at them.

The rejections often dominated the conversation on the trek back. They were feeding on something, but what was it? Being an entomology nut, I invoked the spirit of my uncle’s swimming pool and started trying to be more observant while fishing.

I couldn’t help noticing how many little tracks in the sand there were.

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They were all over the place and I knew they were created by dragon fly nymphs.

At the risk of sounding like the Greek father in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Entomology comes from the Greek word Entoma, meaning ‘Insect’ – simple. It made sense naming the fly after the smaller dragon fly nymph family orders, Gomphidae and Libellulidae, which it imitates. This is to differentiate it from the huge ones most people know, Aeshnidea (so ably imitated by Herman Botes’ Papa Roach pattern).

There are loads of great patterns out there, mainly for trout, imitating these nymphs, so tying a dragonfly nymph is nothing new. While it has caught trout, bass and now Cypriot bream, I set out to develop this pattern specifically for carp on the sand in flowing water of the Berg. My first attempt was a fluffy rabbit fur ball with bead chain eyes, but it wasn’t quite right. Andre plucked it out of my box one day and got a confident eat on a shallow

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sand bar which kept the development going. The pattern really came into its own when I picked up the courage to ask an uncle in Cyprus (not to be implicated here) for some fur from the wild hare pelts adorning the wall of his shack on a small holding outside the village. He’d blast the bunnies at night with a shotgun (out of hunting season) when they’d descend from the hills to eat his precious plants. He gave me an array of pelts in different colours, but the true magic was in the guard hairs and variegation that gave it a mottled stiffness while retaining movement. Lashing this on to a jig

hook in a certain way with bead chain eyes and a dash of tungsten to get it down, it fishes hook point up and the rubber legs bring it to life. It’s not a “wonder fly,” but plop it in front of a carp’s nose and you stand a great chance at getting an eat.

Just before the Berg River Dam switched off the flow this summer, Andre and I were fishing a prettier part of the Berg (with no shopping trollies), when I peered through a gap in the vegetation and immediately saw an enormous fish cruising around eating sub surface. With all the tall

grass around me I managed to keep it together to get a cast out. The fish turned and was on a path to meet my fly so I gave a short tug to stop it sinking too far and keep it up in the fish’s path. I held my breath as it tilted down and sucked up the fly with confidence; a moment of pure disbelief as my heart went boom boom, knowing that all hell was going break loose and that I would be lucky to have any control over this queen of the river. But, the retro glass 6-weight Fenwick bent beautifully as my old Hardy Marquis reel clacked out line. With masterful skills on the

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net, Andre netted the fish so we could admire its broad shoulders and 7800km away in Cyprus, nobody cared about my past glories. They just wanted a name for “the fly that caught bream”. I had just finished tying it when I got tug on my elbow.

Stavros dropped a wriggling, muddy Libellulidae dragon fly nymph on to the base of my vice.

Everyone leaned in to have a closer look at the Libellulidae bug delivered

by Lalu.

The Lalu Bug.

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THE LIFER

THE JUNGLE ANGLER F R O M D O R A D O AT T S I M A N E I N B O L I V I A T O R I O M A R I É ’ S P E A C O C K B A S S , P I R A R U C U ’ S A R A PA I M A A N D T H E A R R AY O F S P E C I E S AT K E N D J A M I N B R A Z I L , U N TA M E D A N G L I N G ’ S H E A D H O N C H O M A R C E L O P É R E Z H A S B U I LT A N A M A Z O N I A N E M P I R E Photos Antti Rastivo, Nick Kelley

There was one fish that was particularly important in terms of my relationship with the jungle. As a small kid I used to go fishing with my parents in a backwater of the Talavera River (Parana River basin). Once, more by chance than any skill, sitting on the edge of that backwater, I caught my first Boga (Leporinus obtusidens), at sunset on a Sunday in summer. When I finally got to land it, I immediately knew that she (I was totally certain it was a she) was a spirit of the water, a key that would let me into the mysteries of the river forever. I held her in my hands all the way home, staring at her, spellbound, in the back seat of our Fiat 1500. From then on, I started pushing the limits of that backwater and dedicated most of my time to exploring the jungle to its farthest edges, fishing with increasingly more complex techniques. Today, 40-something years later, that original feeling still remains.

I worked as an architect in Buenos Aires for a long time, designing and building supermarkets. I wrote for fly fishing magazines and explored a lot with my rod and reel. All along, during the development of my company, Untamed Angling, I had a lot of different jobs. I was an architect, salesman, buyer, diplomat and businessman.

My mutation from being an architect to a sustainable fly-fishing tourism player was a gradual change that I experienced the way a guest might get into the restaurant industry by starting to visit the kitchen, getting to know what happens backstage.

I have lived in many places, from when we opened destinations in

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Argentina (La Zona, Far End Rivers, Kooi Noom), Seychelles (Desroches Fly Fishing adventures), Brazil (Marie, Kendjam, and Pirarucu), but Tsimane in Bolivia, is the only one I could call home. Tsimane is not a destination I arrive at, but a home I return to.

The jungle is my place in the world.

It’s in those waters where I feel most comfortable. Although I was born and raised fishing in Argentina, the features of Tsimane define my home as an angler: transparent waters, mountains, wild animals, and the monarchic presence of the Amazonian dorado, a fish sacred to the indigenous people as well as to myself.

When I am not at Tsimane, I am based in Santa Cruz de la Sierra in Bolivia. It´s a fancy city, modern in some aspects and primitive in others, with very warm people that make your life happier.

My days begin very early. When the sun is up I am ready to make the most of it. The silence of this first part of the day is great for organising my ideas, preparing things to take on later.

Whether I am in the city or the jungle the routine changes but something remains. The days in this part of the world always bring surprises, challenges not only related to work itself but also the adventure of raising a family. The Bolivian air still holds a strong presence of nature. Even in the city, the very colours of the fruits and vegetables remind you that, a little further beyond, a wild world still exists.

The Tsimane project takes place in the upper part of the Sécure river, born from small tributaries in the Mosetenes and Eva Eva mountain ranges, in the very centre of Bolivia.

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It is a national park and indigenous territory where the Amazon and the foothills of the Andes mountains collide, and also the only place on earth where dorado can be found in the Amazon basin. This one singular feature is unique in the fly fishing world: crystal clear waters with a beauty only comparable to those in Patagonia or New Zealand, inhabited by the wildest fish of the jungle.

Also it was the first project jointly developed with the indigenous communities in this market. This is key to me.

There is this myth about the dorado that makes a lot of sense.

The indigenous people hunt a fish called the sabalo (dorado’s prey) with bows and arrows. The dorado corner the sabalos against the shore, which makes the hunting easier for the native hunters. That’s why they consider the dorado as a friend, a sacred fish that must not be killed.

The thing I am most proud of is persevering. The first seven years of Untamed were really difficult, to the extent of questioning the business model itself because of the problems we had to deal with. Perseverance was essential, as was thinking out of the box, or, as I call it,“weird ideas” that, once in practice, appear to be the natural answer to a problem.

I’ve had to work very hard at learning those aspects of tourism that I hadn’t known when I was just a sports angler. Although, from my job as an architect, I was used to dealing with corporate issues, Untamed made me work at strengthening a functioning structure that adjusts to the tourism model we created.

The Man with the Hat My hat? I bought it with the first customized Tsimane caps, and forgot it in a box for three years. One day my wife found it and suggested I try it on. Today it’s an irreplaceable part of my fly-fishing trips. It has the right visor to protect me from the sun and the rain with no need for a sun mask (which is too hot and fogs up my sunglasses). It also fits the jungle angler’s image: a non-traditional explorer, out of the box.

Marcelo PÊrez gets a helping hand landing an arapaima, the world’s largest scaled freshwater fish

perfectly spot it moving in the water, they sense it, they respect it, take care of it and appreciate it. Once we get this we are able to build a truly sustainable activity. This is the way territory and culture are preserved.

Today, Untamed collaborates to protect over 5.000.000 acres of virgin rainforest and the culture of six different ethnic groups from the Amazon.

In contrast, exploring, finding a new destination comes naturally. Perhaps because of my passion for it, the surprises coming up along the way, finding the solution to that thing that appears unsolvable - these are tasks I do with ease and it is where I feel comfortable.

The best party trick I’ve ever seen was by Chucky, the manager of Pluma lodge. The guy has a Big Foot costume and he used to wear it as a prank for the clients. One time, a very party-like group of anglers, the scientists monitoring the biological study of the dorado in Tsimane and some pretty cunning indigenous guides, happened to meet at the lodge. Suddenly, Big Foot came down from the mountain. The whole group knew about the prank except for two clients. These two clients were in complete wonder. They shot photos of the Sasquatch with their cellphones, did a series of interviews with the biologists (who made theories about the humanoid ape who lived in those mountains), spoke to the indigenous people (who narrated the legend of the Maneche, the monkey-man), while the rest of the staff from the lodge could barely hold back their laughter.

The most satisfying fish I ever caught was a dorado of over 19,5 kilos, caught when we started exploring La Zona (the first Untamed project), in Argentina. It was the fly-fishing world record for many years. Back then, the international fly fishing market considered the dorado a “fun” fish because only small ones were caught. This fish meant a lot to me, since it activated the management of La Zona and marked the beginning of Untamed Angling.

In my experience, fly fishing can generate sustainable income for local communities. Our model is just an example. There may be other ideas, other possibilities. The Untamed projects, even though they are centered in fly-fishing, generate more financial benefits for the indigenous communities than any other tourism project in Latin America. The participation of the indigenous people is focused on activities related to their culture, like guiding, where they can put their ancient skills into practice and turn them into a valuable tourist experience. The Chimanes, for instance, know more about the dorado than any of us do. They can

If I could change one thing in fly fishing, it would for it to be more organised, more standardised, with less improvisation. For example, I believe that anglers should be more aware about whether the destination they are visiting is legal, whether it meets the norms, respects the environment. Having a waste management plan, for example, or local communities being involved with the project in a positive way.

Today, fly fishing is not just about the pleasure of a catch for me. I’ve learned to enjoy the satisfaction of those visiting us as my own, because that is when I can see that the idea worked. The appreciation of the indigenous people and the international market players are also a great incentive, but deep down in my heart I’d still rather be fishing in total peace with nothing else in my mind but the fly and the river.

Looking back on my life, I wouldn’t change a thing. I know I’ve taken bad decisions, but they were good for me to learn from. If I hadn’t made those mistakes I would never have found the way, I would not have improved the Untamed Angling model and we wouldn’t be where we are today.

The last fish I caught was a dorado caught on the Agua Negra with Maddie Brenneman. But don’t worry; in a few days I’ll be back in the jungle.

“DEEP DOWN IN MY HEART I’D STILL RATHER BE FISHING IN TOTAL PEACE WITH NOTHING ELSE IN MY MIND BUT THE FLY AND THE RIVER.” 110

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

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