The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine Issue #14

ISSUE 14

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CHASING DRAGONS, TIM RAJEFF, YVON CHOUINARD, NKUPE, FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS, BEERS, BEATS & MORE

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smallmouth Bass lose big win small

hatch junKIe

trainspotting on the vaal

hIgh 5s

with mark murray

KeIth Rose-Innes managing chaos

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BLOOD, SWEAT & BEERS

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DALE STEYN, GABON, MONGOLIA, EDUARDO GARCIA, FOREST TROUT, OZZIE DEATH, BEERS, BEATS AND MORE...

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ROLF NYLINDER, THE 40-YEAR-OLD VIRGIN, WITH

“BE READY TO TRAVEL UP AND DOWN, TO DRINK BEER, SHAKE YOUR BOOTY TO THE MUSIC, EAT CATFISH, BURN IN THE SUN, SLEEP IN THE COLD AND JERK OFF TO THE BRAND NEW GEAR YOU CAN DREAM OF! LOCK THE DOOR, GET NAKED, IT’S TIME TO READ THE MISSION, THE ULTIMATE FLY FISHING MAGAZINE!” - CYRIL KAMIR, LE MOUCHING

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DEAD ZONE

PLATON TRAKOSHIS

DESPERADO

PROVIDENCE WITH DRE

MARCO PIERRE WHITE

PIKE, TROUT AND NOSTALGIA

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H JUNGLE FEVER, FATTIES, BEERS, BEATS & MORE

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A PLASTIC PLANET, NEW ZEALAND, TREASURE ISLAND, MARK YELLAND, TOM SUTCLIFFE, BEERS, BEATS & MORE

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CAPE ROCK & SURF, THE FISHING SCIENTIST, EXMOUTH, TOAST COETZER, PAT COHEN, BEERS, BEATS AND MORE...

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PENTZ PREDATOR, JEREMY BLOCK, TIGER MOTHER, CHASING NATIVES, ED HERBST, BEERS, BEATS & MORE

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CHASING DRAGONS, TIM RAJEFF, YVON CHOUINARD, NKUPE, FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS, BEERS, BEATS & MORE

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

THE ELEVENTH HOUR EDITOR’S COLUMN Photo Travis Owen

The others also had bites, but I got the allergic reaction. My hands swelled up like blaasoppies (puffer fish), to the point where my wedding ring could not even rotate. Within hours the bites turned into blisters, popped and suppurated in the humid, tropical air. A rash, something different to the hand bites, developed on my thighs and arms. Hair, salt, sand, suncream, sweat, bugs – I lost track of all corporal geography and causality, because everything itched, oozed or hurt. There was one silver lining. Even though my hands looked like leprous balloon animals, I could still hold a rod, so I could still fish.

The plan was simple.

Match Conrad, session for session, and I would maximize my chances of getting a tarpon off the beach.

That meant 4:30am departures for the spit at the mouth of the estuary the whole week, quick breakfasts around 9am, morning sessions on the reefs exposed at low tide till 1pm, down time and beer drinking in the heat of the day until about 4pm and then late sessions ending anywhere from 9 to 11pm.

No excuses. No getting tired and sleeping in for just one morning. No resting of the aching casting arm.

I knew what I was in for - a week of endurance. I was committed. As for Conrad - a seven-trip veteran of Gabon, 12 years my senior, he’s a hard bastard. Muttering to himself about obsession, torment and

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battling demons, he gets off on this self-flagellation.

I stuck to the plan even when, a few days into the week, the others started to skip the early sessions to “sleep in” till 6:30am-7am. Sure, by day three or four I was sleep deprived and sore, but I was adamant I was not going to let myself down through lack of effort.

Just one week out of an otherwise soft and comfortable life? I’ve got this.

Then my weak-ass, boiling hot, Northern Hemisphere ginger blood betrayed me. At first I thought the bites were from mosquitoes or a blister beetle, then the Frenchies told me it might be an invisible, invincible sand flea called a fourou, which is impervious to bug spray. It’s like being bitten by the wind. There’s nothing you can do.

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Then, in the ultimate act of ignorant self-sabotage, I made the mistake of prioritizing the cool thirst-slaking properties of afternoon beers over real hydration and I forgot to drink enough water on the second last day.

By that night, I had chills and a fever, yet it was balmy out.

Malaria again? No, heat stroke.

I spent the final day under a tarpaulin while the others fished with little to show for their efforts. By nightfall, I rolled into my tent while they departed for the final session. I heard them come back one by one, voices muted in defeat, solitary beers cracked, the zipping of tents as they too retired hurt by a lack of tarpon.

At midnight, I heard Conrad rootletootling Darth Vader’s Imperial March in victory as he returned triumphant, smelling of tarpon jizz and looking for someone to tell the tale to.

I unzipped my tent and went out into the cool night.

W W W. T H E M I S S I O N F LY M A G . C O M ISSUE 14 MARCH / APRIL 2019

CONTENTS Cover: Dragons of the Orange river. Artwork Conrad Botes.

Photo Gareth Reid. Artwork Photo Jan Verboom.

22 THE K.I.S.S. PRINCIPLE Patagonia head honcho Yvon Chouinard on why, in an increasingly complex world, it’s more important than ever to keep things simple.

24 HIGH 5S Guide Simon Hunter Bunn on the marbles, rainbows and hucho hucho of Slovenia.

30 CHASE THE DRAGON Chanelling his inner Khal Drogo, Peter Coetzee goes in search of dragons in the Northern Cape.

46 PATAGONIAN HONEY Devin Isemonger turns his honeymoon into a fishing trip and returns with his nuts intact.

54 THE MURDER BIRD Russia, Baja, birds and business with Echo Fly Fishing’s Tim Rajeff.

68 FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS Even for a 5000-year-old reincarnated Pharaoh, camping in style has its perks.

REGULAR FEATURES 08 Ed’s Letter 14 Wish list Fish 16 Beers & Beats 18 Munchies 20 Troubled Waters

Salad Bar 76 Payday 82 Shortcasts 84 Fluff 86 Lifer 94

“Give a man a view and a six-pack of Tafel and he’ll piss into the prevailing wind.”- Aristotle.

Photo Gareth Reid.

Puff Daddy - the centre console/ashtray of striper legend Capt. Joe Blados’s car. Warning: smoking can kill you. So can driving. Photo Conrad Botes

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 EDITOR 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 BEING SHAT ON FROM A DIZZY HEIGHT BY A MURDER BIRD.

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CONTRIBUTORS #14 Peter Coetzee, Leonard Flemming, Gareth George, Yvon Chouinard, Mr Joe, Devin Isemonger, Ray Montoya, Arno van der Nest PHOTOGRAPHERS #14 Peter Coetzee, Gareth Reid, WildFly Fishing, Brendan Body, Elsa Young, Tim Rajeff, Ray Montoya, Nick Murphy Leonard Flemming, Clint van der Schyff, JJ Harris, Jan Verboom, Conrad Botes Andre van Wyk, Tamsin Bunn, Matt Brooke

@THEMISSIONFLYMAG

Instinct by design.

Days on the flats can be a wild ride of slow hunting punctuated by adrenaline pumping action unfolding at warp speed.

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Take a Meridian along on your next saltwater journey, and fire on instinct.

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WISH LIST FISH

GIANT EMPEROR CICHLID I F Y O U E V E R F I N D Y O U R S E L F AT L A K E TA N G A N Y I K A , N K U P E , A B E E F Y A F R I C A N C O U S I N O F T H E P E A C O C K B A S S , WA R R A N T S Y O U R AT T E N T I O N . G A R E T H G E O R G E O F T H E W I L D F LY F I S H I N G S E R I E S T V C R E W I S O N E O F T H E F E W T O TA R G E T T H E M O N F LY.

Nkupe have sad sex lives. They breed once in a lifetime. Their entire lives build up to that one moment – nggggggghhhhhaa. After spawning, that’s it. They never feed again. While they guard the eggs from other fish, their own digestive tracts atrophy and then they die. No breakfast in bed with Craig Thomassen pictured here.

What: Of all the many cichlid species, nkupe (aka giant emperor cichlids) “allegedly” get bigger than Peacock Bass. Seriously! That’s not our claim (hence the air quotes), but it’s something we’ve seen repeatedly on several highly reputable websites like cichlidsordeath.com and Nkuperule. com. Whatever the case, growing to 90cm, they do get big.

According to George, they’re also aggressive.“The nkupe is not a shy specimen and it will go out of its way to chase down the fly. They have speed and stamina and are a handsome fish to behold.”

Where: Lake Tanganyika, the world’s longest lake and also its second oldest

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and second deepest. Specifically, the south eastern Zambian bit (the lake also laps on to DR Congo, Burundi and Tanzania). George says, “The clarity of Lake Tanganyika is staggering and the sheer depth of vision skews perception, where life thrives in a kaleidoscope. It’s as confusing a fishery as you’re likely to find, with its inhabitants largely unknown outside of ichthyological circles.”

How: George says, “Nkupe are known to be very structure-orientated and while the bigger specimens are found at depth, fly-worthy specimens often roam in schools, on the surface, reacting to a speedy retrieve. We were throwing 9-weight rods, with a floating line and 300g

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sinker, depending on our application.

With tigerfish around, trace wire was essential. A range of clousers worked for nkupe. During the dawn and dusk window, we found fish feeding in numbers on the surface and throwing a popper had the patrolling fish hopping.”

Who: DIY or get a local guide while staying at Nkamba Bay Lodge which is equipped with boats. Situated within the Nsumbu National Park, George says, “Nkamba Bay is a protected reserve, in which you’ll get your just rewards, whereas, based on local reports, the majority of this incredible lake is heavily harvested, supporting the burgeoning population that surrounds it.”

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

THE RIGHT LINE

for every cruising, tailing bonefish.

DIRECTCORE BONEFISH RIO’s DirectCore Bonefish line has a long head and rear taper to smooth out the loop, and to make long efficient casts, while the mid length front taper produces great turnover and easy presentation of typical bonefish flies. Each line is built on RIO’s low-memory DirectCore that is extremely easy to stretch and lies perfectly straight on the water, yet retains the stiffness needed to cast in hot conditions. A high floating coating ensures the running line will not sink when wading.

FODDER

BEERS AND BEATS

THE WHISKEY PORT CHARLOTTE 10-YEAR-OLD THE BEER LOXTON LAGER Deep in the Bo-Karoo, South Africa’s semi-desert interior, you’ll find Loxton, one of those tiny, one-sheep towns time and the railways forgot. It’s not famous for much save for great lamb and the fact that one of crime novelist Deon Meyer’s main protagonists, Lemmer, comes from there.

Until now.

East-European in style with a malt base and pearl barley head, Loxton Lager (which we are going to assume is the town’s only beer), is an absolute cracker. With a fine balanced hoppy malt body backed up by fynbos, honey and aromatic herby hints, smash a bottle or three with meat dishes, risotto, cheeses or with steamed mussels done David Higgs-style (see recipe overleaf). loxtonlager.co.za

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Conceived, distilled, matured and bottled on Islay, the home of peaty whiskey, the long-awaited Port Charlotte 10-year-old from Bruichladdich distillery has immediately elevated itself right into the realm of its neighbouring peaty whiskeys like Ardberg, Bowmore, Lagavulin and Laphroaig. Voted the 4th best whiskey in the world in 2018 by the wise boozers at Whiskey Advocate magazine, it’s described as “heavily peated,” but this is no bog-ordinary peat missile. There’s so much more going on with this single malt. In the nose and palate, expect a BBQ smokiness, hints of coconut, caramel and fruit as well as the region’s signature maritime undertones. Perfect for on the water heart-warming hip flask action in chilly conditions or as a nightcap when you’re warm and dry and looking for an appropriate punctuation point at the end of a long yet satisfying day fishing. bruichladdich.com

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THE WINE SILWERVIS TERRACURA SYRAH 2015 Germans have eisbein, Alaskans have deep-fried moose knuckle (ok, we made that up) and Argentines have Asado. In South Africa, we have the braai, our ritual to all things carnivorous and pyromaniac. And we like a great wine to go with our red meat. Made by Swartland young gun, Ryan Mostert, the Terracura Syrah 2015 from Silwervis (aka Silverfish, aka Carpenter) is made in a style to represent terroir and fruit expression (as opposed to MOERSE WYN). Made to reflect classic Rhônestyle Syrah, specifically Côte-Rôtie, and moving away from the American style so prevalent in South African wines up till now, the grapes were picked earlier keeping freshness and acidity intact and alcohol low (12.8%).

Enjoy with a fine dry-aged free-range steak on the fire or smoky pulled pork. silwervis.com

BLAC NERVOU K FLAG S BREAK DOWN

THE

M WE CRA AK D NE SS

BAD BRAIN S I AGAINST I

YS BEASTIE BO FOR LIVIN GE + TIME U N E TH BIZ VS

P.I.L PUBLIC IMAGE FATHER JOHN MISTY HOLLYWOOD FOREVER CEMETERY SINGS

JOY DIV ISION L O V E W ILL TEAR US APAR T

ERIC BURDON AND THE ANIM ALS GOOD TIMES

JR. SAUR DINO E HEAVEN LIK JUST

N IVY OPERATIO BAD TOWN

ALLAH-LAS BUSMAN’S HOLID AY

TH

EU

ND MO ERG RN ROU IN G ND SU YO N U

TH

THE ECHO AND EN BUNNYM OON GM THE KILLIN

PRES

S

PLAY

MORRISSEY SPEEDWAY

STEVE MILLER BAND SERENADE

THE CRY ALONE

EI WHA GHT DAY T’S S Z O ABO STRANG UT M E E

THE BEATS – BOD’S HEAVY HITS MIX Brendan Body, aka Boderick, aka Bod, aka Hoender, aka Pterodactyl Toes and many other monikers, is a seven-foot-tall human giraffe with skateboarding injuries, claws for feet and a penchant for bad behaviour. He’s also our art director, artist and the man responsible for the look and feel of this mighty tome. For this issue he applied his makeup and put together Bod’s Heavy Hits Mix. Enjoy.

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MUNCHIES

MUSSELS & OYSTERS WITH CHEF DAVID HIGGS A N A M I B I A N B E A C H B O Y AT H E A R T, D AV I D H I G G S , J O H A N N E S B U R G ’ S M O S T C E L E B R AT E D C H E F, I S H A P P I E S T WHEN HE HAS A FISHING ROD IN HAND. Photos Elsa Young

At the Mile 8 marker on a windswept Walvis Bay beach. When he gets time off, that’s where you are most likely to find Chef David Higgs, far from the world of fine dining, valet parking, black credit cards and the expense accounts you might associate with Marble, his celebrated destination restaurant in Johannesburg. It was on that beach that he caught his first fish with his dad, where he experienced beach braais and got a taste for cooking. This in turn set him off down the path to a stellar career. In his cookbook Mile 8, through over 90 dishes and over 150 recipes, Higgs takes you on a visual and storytelling journey through the people and places that shaped him.

Talking about fishing with his father, Higgs says, “We had a ritual… watching the colours of the ocean,

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feeling its mood and listening to the breaking waves, wet sand underfoot.

Choosing the right hook, stringing the bait, finding the perfect spot to cast your line and deciding how deep to cast. The excitement of the tug and the suspense as you reel in the line. The first glimpse of a newly hooked cob. The smell of fresh white mussels as you cut them open. Eating with your hands while pelicans and seagulls watch for any scraps that may come their way. And always the smell of the ocean in the background. For me, fishing, hunting

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and gathering food are as much about reawakening the senses as they are about the actual experience of catching things.”

Amen to that. While the recipes range from basic to genius level fine dining, we have specifically chosen two easy ones that can be executed on or near the beach with a little foraging, a few basic ingredients and just a modicum of effort.

Mile 8 is available from

marble.restaurant/mile-8-cook-book

Loxton Lager, mussels, fennel Higgs says, “Loxton Lager is owned by a good friend of ours, Stuart. It’s been on tap since day one and is very particular in flavour. It tastes like the Karoo and is great with food.”

For 8 snacks • 16 whole mussels 50ml white wine (optional) • 1 large fennel bulb (100g) – shaved • olive oil • salt and pepper – to season • focaccia – 8 x 25g squares, lightly toasted • 8 fronds dried fennel Clean the whole mussels by rinsing them well, then scrubbing them and removing the beard. Place in a wire basket over the grill until they begin to open.

Alternatively, place the mussels in a pot with 50ml white wine. Close the lid of the pot and steam until the mussels open. For safety, discard any that do not open.

Oysters, seaweed butter Higgs says, “The fire and coals give us great options to transform original dishes into something quite unique, both in flavour and appearance.”

Serves 8 starter portions Seaweed butter • 50g fresh seaweed ulva – sea lettuce • 20g capers • 125ml water • 250g butter, softened • 2 lemons – the juice Oysters 16 fresh whole oysters Boil the seaweed and capers in the water until the seaweed is soft. Transfer to a blender and blend into a paste. Fold the paste into the softened butter with the lemon juice. Refrigerate until needed.

Place the closed oysters on open hot coals. Lightly cook or just warm. The lids will pop up. Remove the lids and serve 2 oysters per portion with seaweed butter.

To assemble, plate the oysters on coarse salt so that they are stable. Warm the seaweed butter very gently in a pot so that it doesn’t split. Spoon the seaweed butter on to the warm oysters – 2 per serving.

Thinly slice the fennel bulb preferably on a mandolin. Dress in olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Grill until lightly charred.

To assemble, place grilled fennel slices on the toast, followed by two mussels, finishing with a dried fennel frond to garnish, and served with a Loxton Lager.

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

THE WITTE RIVER P E R H A P S T H E M O S T FA B L E D B R O W N T R O U T S T R E A M I N S O U T H A F R I C A , T O D AY T H E W I T T E R I V E R I S A S H A D O W O F I T S F O R M E R S E L F. F E AT H E R S & F L U O R O H E AV Y ( A N D C A P E P I S C AT O R I A L S O C I E T Y V I C E PRESIDENT), LEONARD FLEMMING, WEIGHS IN ON THE P R O B L E M S I T FA C E S .

Photos Leonard Flemming

The Water The Witte River in Bain’s Kloof used to be my favourite trout river in the Western Cape. It was perfect in the sense that one had to hike deep into solitary space – a winding, rocky gorge with bedrock pools opening up into a wide upper fynbos valley with classic Cape free-stone sections – just far enough from the car park to have aching legs by the end of the day to find shy and demanding browns rising opportunistically to tiny mays and terrestrials. On the most memorable trip I realised about eight kilometres from my car that I had forgotten my lunch pack on the back seat; the fishing was so good that I stuck it out, spending twelve hours walking and fishing without a bite to eat. I once watched how a +20 inch behemoth cock fish ate a friend’s #10 DDD and he missed it! Back then (this is over ten years ago) one could still spend time in the lower gorge sight fishing to golden yellow browns patrolling cliff face pools, one of them infamously named ‘8-pounder pool’; this was before water extraction killed the flow. Those were the days…

hoorays yet for its inhabitants or the fisherman, never mind the people relying on its water for survival further down the valley.

The Wankers Wellington farmers had historic rights by an act of the old Western Cape government dating back to the mid 1800’s (1849-1853) to channel water from the upper Witte River to an entirely different catchment area for irrigation of orchards and vineyards. Although the water abstraction was regulated by sluices, these had been removed in the mid 1990’s and the full summer flow of the river was since tapped into farm dams instead of its natural course, decimating over 16 km of an aquatic ecosystem that was the habitat to abundant indigenous biodiversity as well as the Loch Levin browns that were introduced in about 1885.

They can also inquire and complain by email to the BGCMA (Breede-Gouritz Catchment Management Area: info@ bgcma.co.za) and Deon Rossouw (Limietberg Nature Reserve manager: dross@capenature.co.za)

The Way Forward South African fly anglers are on the brink of losing one their prime and most picturesque brown trout rivers.

There simply aren’t many rivers that hold browns in our country to start with, so losing one would certainly leave us feeling empty. Furthermore, the ecological reserve flow is critically important to conserve the indigenous Burchell’s redfin minnows, Cape river frogs and aquatic vegetation along the lower valley (well below the water off take channel), where water stagnates in peak summer months.

This natural heritage site may lose its life and with that its appeal to the many weekly visitors.

People can contact and support the CPS (Cape Piscatorial Society, www.piscator.co.za), the non-profit organisation that manages angling access to the river.

Time’s moved on and although the browns are still clinging on to survive in a trickle, new national legislation now provides for a reserve flow in rivers exposed to water abstraction, purely to protect aquatic organisms and surrounding flora. However, with an incompetent Department of Water Affairs failing to take action and determine the Witte’s ecological reserve flow, there are no

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UNDERCURRENTS

THE K.I.S.S. PRINCIPLE I N T H I S E XC E R P T F R O M T H E R E V I S E D S EC O N D E D I T I O N O F S I M P L E F LY F I S H I N G , PATA G O N I A’ S Y V O N C H O U I N A R D D E TA I L S W H Y - I N A N I N C R E A S I N G LY C O M P L E X , C R O W D E D , C O N S U M P T I O N - O B S E S S E D , H I G H -T EC H W O R L D - I T ’ S M O R E I M P O R TA N T T H A N E V E R T O K E E P I T S I M P L E , S T U P I D . E S P EC I A L LY W H E N F LY F I S H I N G .

Photo Mauro Mazzo

T

he state of the art in angling these days is defined by “sports” standing in a guided drift boat mindlessly throwing Chernobyl ants at the bank. Or maybe just drifting along, staring at the red-and-white bobber while the guide rows them into position. The next big advance will be fiber optics embedded in our lines so we can sit in the boat and watch a screen to know when to set the hook. If you didn’t see it on your smartphone, did it really happen?

Angling doesn’t have to drift further to the dark side.

What’s happened with fly fishing is no different from what’s happened with every other sport or pastime—in fact, with society as a whole.

We all know the present world economy based on endlessly consuming and discarding is destroying our planet. We are the guilty ones. We are the consumers who “use up and destroy.” We constantly buy things we want but don’t need. And it seems we never have enough.

Our trout rods are designed to throw lead-weighted streamers clear across the river. Reels come with drags engineered to stop a truck, even though we know any old click drag will stop a trout. We love our tools, but too often they have become overbuilt and automated.

They get between the user and the real experience.

The satisfaction to be gained from the synergy of hand, eye, and muscle is missing. When you have put in 10,000 hours to master a craft or sport, the Zen master would say, “Now see if you can accomplish the same without all the stuff.”

In these trying times, when we are seeing the results of our hightech, high-risk, and highly toxic economic system, many of us are questioning our frenetic consumer lifestyles. We yearn for a simpler life based not on refusing all technology, but on going back to appropriate technology, what David Brower describes as “turning around and taking a forward step.

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It’s difficult to imagine an economy that satisfies all seven billion of us, yet doesn’t destroy the Earth. As it stands now, we are using up the resources of one and a half planets—a consumption level that is far from sustainable. And yet by 2050, that level is projected to rise to somewhere between three and a half and five planets. It seems we are doomed to endlessly recycle failed systems hoping that this time it will work. If repeating the same action and expecting a different outcome is one definition of insanity, where does that leave us? Certainly, we should replace old inefficient and polluting technology with less damaging and cleaner ones, but that does not solve the true problem: everexpanding growth on a finite planet.

Just because society is hell-bent on becoming so complex that we finally snooker ourselves into a corner with all our stuff, it doesn’t mean we have to go there.

We can turn around and take that forward step.

We know we need to consume less on this finite planet.

Yet if we do, it puts people out of work. But then with automation, robots, and technology there may not be very many jobs anyway. Perhaps if we buy only what we need rather than what we desire, and if we make sure that what we do buy is multifunctional, durable, repairable, high in quality, and won’t go out of style—and can last long enough to be given to the next generation—then perhaps we can keep some people working.

I know there will always be work for the craftsman who spends forty hours making a beautiful and functional cane rod. And I can think of examples where the old ways of doing things have not been surpassed by modern technology.

Consider the “green revolution” farmer in his airconditioned tractor producing inferior and even toxic food. Contrast that with the small organic farmer or gardener finding contentment and pleasure in using his hand tools or walking behind his perfectly trained plow horses or oxen. The “green revolution” is dependent on

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unsustainable chemical farming and actually produces less food per acre per resource investment over time.

I have friends who surf on replicas of eighteenth-century wooden surfboards from the Bishop Museum in Hawai‘i.

These surfboards are thin and flat as an ironing board with no fin, yet my friends ride them better than 99 percent of the surfers on modern plastic boards.

The professional load carriers around the world all carry loads on their heads, from African women with huge jars of water to Sherpas who carry double loads (110 pounds) with a tumpline. In fact, the United Nations conducted a study proving that carrying loads in these traditional ways is 50 percent more efficient than using a high-tech modern backpack.

The ship’s carpenter on Shackleton’s lifeboat the James Caird took only three simple hand tools with him on the passage from Antarctica to South Georgia Island, knowing if he needed to, he could build another boat with only those tools.

I believe the way to mastery of any endeavor is to work toward simplicity; replace complex technology with knowledge. The more you know, the less you need. In the 1980s, we used to say, “He who dies with the most toys wins.” We were wrong.

The lesson we learn from fishing with a tenkara rod is that we shouldn’t fear that a simpler life will be an impoverished life. Rather, simplicity leads to a richer and more satisfying way of fishing—and more importantly, living.

Simple Fly Fishing by Yvon Chouinard, Craig Mathews and Mauro Mazzo is available from www.patagonia.com and book stores worldwide.

Simon Hunter Bunn finding his marbles on the crystal clear rivers of Slovenia.

GUIDES

HIGH 5S F R O M T H E M O U N TA I N S T R E A M S O F S L O V E N I A A N D T H E F O O T H I L L S O F T H E D R A K E N S B E R G T O T H E F L AT S O F B E L I Z E , S I M O N H U N T E R BUNN LIVES THE GOOD LIFE CHASING MARBLES, HUCHO HUCHO A N D A N Y T H I N G E L S E T H AT S W I M S .

Photos Simon Hunter Bunn Archive

5 best things about where you guide?

1. Quality waters - everything else is just a bonus. Where I work in Slovenia, the crystal clear water of the Soča River is absolutely mind-blowing and the sight fishing unparalleled. It’s a mustsee on any list.

2. People - I’ve met some awesome people along the way and many have become great friends. It’s always great to pop in at Xplorer in Durban on my return to South Africa to gear up in bulk for the seasons ahead. The new shop will be open soon. I’ve seen behind the scenes and it will be a place to go to if you are in the area or planning a trip to Slovenia or South Africa.

3. The fish - Slovenia and South Africa have excellent fisheries and if you know where to look there are lots of wild and big fish to chase. Marble trout are indigenous to Slovenia and are amazing looking fish with their marble pattern and subtle gold colour, but they also grow to big sizes and get super aggressive when chasing down streamers. So the hunt for that big fish is always on. They blend in so well that most people don’t even see the fish a few metres away.

4. Sight fishing - nothing really beats watching the grab! The Krka River is a chalk based system in Slovenia and it’s an amazing place for skating caddis or a well-placed mayfly. We fish in the pristine environment of the village Krka where big rainbows and browns are not uncommon. It also boasts a very high catch rate. The Soča (as mentioned above), is the place where you can see a fish eat your fly off the bottom which is two to four meters deep.

5. Nature - some of the places I get to fish are just mind-blowing and soulcleansing environments where one can totally get lost and disappear for a bit.

If you haven’t fished the Drakensberg from North to South, well then add it to the bucket list. In my spare time I try and fly fish my way around the Drakensberg. This last season was just spent fishing it with friends.

waterproof and less bulky to carry than a serious camera.

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

1. A good sense of humour. Stress will kill any trip. I normally can’t sleep before a mission, the excitement always gets me.

2. The correct permits and licenses.

I’ve seen a good friend lose access to his home waters due to very vindictive officials. It wasn’t cool, so here’s some solid advice: just make sure you have the correct documentation when fly fishing.

3. Polarized sunglasses for sure! I’m sporting some Smith Chroma Pops at the moment, loving the light frames and the fact that they don’t mist up on the cold days chasing Hucho Hucho (Danube salmon). Without them it would be a hack spending a full day on the water dealing with glare.

4. A small pack of test flies that I bring out when the fishing is slow.

It’s awesome to catch fish on a new tie then tell your mate it was something else.

5. Camera to record the good times and fails. Yip, I’m one of those guys who has never actually used a big proper camera. The Samsung Galaxy range is my go to for communications, GPS and pictures. They are also

5 things you are loving right now 1. Most of all, I’m loving spending time with my family of five. Travelling keeps us away from loved ones at times.

2. Advice on tying streamer patterns from Simon Graham when he was last here in Slovenia fly fishing for Hucho Hucho. That, and all the new fly tying gear and materials I’ve been very busy using while the snow falls. For new gear check out the SAVA fly tying vise at www.kostevc.si or on YouTube.

3. Dynasties, the new David Attenborough series on at the moment. Brings back a lot of memories as I’ve followed him from when I was very young.

4. Got to love the JBL portable speaker systems. Great for listening to podcasts, like Joe Rogan’s. He’s a hoot and great for background listening while fly tying.

5. Fishtube.tv. MD Gareth George and his team hooked me up with a year’s subscription. Totally awesome to have access anywhere while I travel. It beats listening to boarding calls in foreign languages while waiting for that next flight. While in transit the other day I watched Craig ”Tomo” Thomassen have a go at catching permit in Oman.

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5 bands to listen to while on a road trip?

1. Foo fighters.

2. Jeremy Loops.

3. Imagine Dragons.

4. Oliver Tree.

5. L S D (the super group).

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5 indispensable flies for freshwater?

1. SSS Baitfish - my own pattern.

2. Rochester’s Muddlers - those I get on a non-return basis from Xplorer’s Jeremy Rochester himself.

3. Guns - Gary Glen-Young’s pattern, though most have their own version.

4. Elk-wing Caddis – skating.

5. Hoppers - various patterns.

5 favourite fly fishing destinations across South Africa?

1. Midlands, KwaZulu-Natal - loads of awesome still waters and rivers to fly fish. I’ve spent the last 12 years stocking trout in this area with trout from our aquaculture operations called Drakensberg Trout. There are loads of places to tour around and I would battle to narrow it down to one place.

2. Sterkfontein Dam - some of the best sight fishing in the world and often referred to as the poor man’s bonefish destination.

3. North Coast KwaZulu-Natal - some great fisheries from Mapelan to Kosi Bay 4. Drakensberg - from North to South there are some amazing rivers. We are lucky, we don’t really have to go to out of KwaZulu-Natal.

5. Zippermouth Creek in KwaZuluNatal - I’ve been warned before not to share the location by the MIB (Men In Black) of fly fishing.

5 of the most difficult guiding experiences so far?

1. Belize - flats fly fishing for bonefish and permit. My wife and I used to run Turneffe Island lodge and we had a client who would break gear by throwing it around when he lost fish.

On some of the remote atolls it’s not always easy to get four new top end replacement rods in a week. None of the guides wanted the guy on their skiff. Nonetheless, one of the more chilled out guides took him and his girlfriend out and, for some reason, came back all smiles. Not a rod broken in sight. Turns out the client had been given some solid advice to calm down and as soon as he did he enjoyed himself to the max. I remember them coming back to the docks and the client was a totally different guy with a big cigar sticking out of his now smiling

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smug. I wonder what was in that cigar?

TV show - RIP. Watching his shows 2. Again in Belize, waking up one changed my life and also everyone morning to a whole fleet of skiffs sunk. else’s expectations of me.

They were the lodge boats that had 3. Win Whitear – a legend of the just been fully detailed for the season Maritzburg College Fly Fishing Club. ahead. A big, unpredicted, late season I am now what I am because of his tropical storm unleashed its fury in advice while I was at school there. the early hours of the morning and 4. Jeremy Rochester - Kamchatka, he’s despite everyone’s effort we weren’t a lekker bud and awesome to tour able stop them going under. The with. bilge pumps couldn’t keep up and 5. My dad - it’s time for a tour around we were pulling as many boats out Slovenia! the water as we could. This was four days before the main guests arrived.

5 fish on your species hit list?

With team work, the skiffs were all up 1. 20lbs tigerfish. and running with smiling clients on 2. 20lbs Golden dorado. time for the season to start. As I was in 3. 1m GT / Ignobilis. charge of all the guides the pressure 4. 100lbs tarpon. was definitely on as we basically had 5. 1m roosterfish. to do a complete strip down and replace anything that looked suspect.

5 shower thoughts that have 3. In Slovenia, a client cut his nut sack occurred to you while fly fishing? with a fly. How he did it, no one really 1. Did I pull that handbrake up? knows. From the volume of blood 2. Short shank, wide gape jigs hooks one would have thought he had VS long shank, narrow gape jig hooks. lost a limb or something. I was left I’ve narrowed it down to the latter, thinking how the hell do I explain this as over this last season, I lost way to the emergency centre guys and, more big fish to the wide gape hooks if necessary, would they dispatch a opening up than I would have liked to. helicopter? Anyway, as the host, I had 3. I wonder if Donald Trump knows to inspect the damage. Fortunately, how good the fly fishing is in Slovenia? the fly wasn’t still there as he was Like me, he’s married to a Slovenian. obviously fishing barbless, but he still 4. I’m pretty sure no one standing in a looked at me afterwards with that, “I river fly fishing ever said, “I wish I was made you look” smirk on his mug. stuck in traffic now!” but the opposite 4.

See above...... that’s is rather true. a hard one to get over. 5. I’m always thinking, “I wonder what 5. In general the weather has a big the fishing was like here 5 000 years part to play on a trip. Once we had ago?” a massive storm pull in over most of Slovenia and it dumped so much 5 of the most underrated species in water that overnight rivers were your book? tenfold the volume of the previous 1. Yellowfish. Only a small percentage day. One by one the rivers were blown of the global fly fishing community out. Luckily we managed to find a gem know the addictive pursuit of these of a chalkstream that had not started golden rockets. Big fish will give to rise yet. The fishing was great, you the satisfaction of seeing your we caught and released a bunch of backing. different species and I managed to 2. Cero Mackerel. Great fun on light tick grayling off the list. tackle.

3. Green spot Kingfish. Very energetic 5 people you would like to guide or fish. fish with?

4. Grayling.

In the past it was 1. David Attenborough - could you considered a trash fish. imagine the commentary? For me, 5. Bonito. Most guys consider this that would be total awesomeness! bycatch but they can be great to catch 2. Jose Wejebe of the Spanish Fly on light gear.

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Like couscous, peri-peri and the Bang Bang Club, Hucho Hucho (aka Danube Salmon) are so rad they named them twice.

5 essential ingredients for an incredible mission?

1. Team / Tour buddies.

2. Location, it’s best to fish the least fished or hard to access areas.

3. Vehicles that will get you there and beyond! I’m a Ford Ranger fan back in SA and a Skoda Yeti driver in Slovenia (probably the youngest too).

4. Gees aka the Spirit of things. I reckon the fish can feel your stress a mile away, but it’s only takes about 30 seconds on average, when the world disappears and the only thing that matters at that time is the fish you’ve just hooked. I chase that feeling a lot, as I must admit I do really like to catch as many fish as possible. Happy energy always make a mission a lot better.

5. Targets. I normally set specific goals when I mission and once I’ve achieved one I move on to the next. Those that set no goals will never be disappointed.

It’s good to challenge oneself.

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

1. Some of the lead head jig streamers here in Slovenia. One bad cast and you could knock yourself out. They are also called Muddlers, due to the large amount of deer hair that goes into them.

2. Orange Aid. Not the beverage, but a trout fly.

3. Dave Raw’s Cactus Buggers.

4. Ross Miller’s Micro Leech.

5. Normally anything that comes out of Jeremy Rochester’s box. There are some fuglys (unattractive flies) in there, which big fish can’t leave alone.

5 common mistakesthat most clients make?

1. Gear. Try to have the right stuff and not over pack with things that are not on the list.

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2. Suncream, a proper buff and gloves like Simms make. Warren Bradfield gifted me a few and they are awesome.

3. Fitness in general. The fitter one is the more areas you’ll be able to access and just to feel better after a day of water, currents, slippery terrain etc.

4. Be honest with yourself and your guide and let them know what you want. Some guys can fly fish for five kilometres and some just 50 metres.

It’s good to establish things like this early on so the whole trip can be designed to deliver a great time.

5. Practice or learn some new skills.

Be open to the different ways of doing thing in different places. What you know may not be the only way to do something.

Your last five casts were to….

Hucho Hucho (Danube Salmon).

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ORANGE RIVER WITH MAVUNGANA FLYFISHING

CHASE THE DRAGON A S A LT Y M A R O O N E D I N L A N D , P E T E R C O E T Z E E C H A N N E L S H I S I N N E R D AV I D AT T E N B O R O U G H , SADDLES UP LIKE KHAL DROGO AND GOES DRAGON HUNTING ON THE ORANGE RIVER. Photos Peter Coetzee & Gareth Reid

I

’ve been without immediate access to the coast for a year this month for the first time in my adult life. For a well-rounded fly fisherman this probably wouldn’t matter as I’m within a few hours of some fantastic freshwater fisheries...but I’m not a well-rounded fly fisherman. My few forays into the Cape streams to catch Hot Wheels-sized trout, convinced me that if I belong anywhere, it’s on a saltwater flat.

Then largemouth yellowfish happened.

A largemouth yellow is like a barramundi/kob/meagre that hunts like something you’d find in the brine. ‘This one is okay’ I thought when I first saw one. This isn’t a trout. Two trips to Vanderkloof, a dam holding plenty of these confused freshwater fish and I thought I’d had my fill. Then my friend Ewan Naude decided he needed to catch a bigger one than mine and he went on two float trips down the Orange River that I couldn’t make. As the hero shots arrived and found their way into his tying room frames, Whatsapp profile, Facebook page, LinkedIn CV, Christmas cards, and endless stories, I started to get that uneasy feeling that I also needed to do this.

Ewan is particularly well suited to river fisheries, not because of his fishing style or preference, but because of his lack of a sense of direction. The Orange, was a place where he could relax, knowing that he only needed to go in one direction and wouldn’t end up in a survival situation like he did at Vanderkloof when he convinced his dad that he was ninety nine percent sure that they needed to take a left turn to get back to camp, just before nightfall.

The reason I wasn’t done, even though I’d caught a big “largie,” was the damn backdrop in Ewan’s new bouquet of profile pics. It was like something Apple would put in your device’s screensaver photo album, and I started to fantasise about breaking the 20lb mark there.

In September 2018 a call came through from Mavungana Flyfishing that there was a spot available on an upcoming drift and I got my opportunity to finally fish the Orange.

Now I swore this wouldn’t be another cookie cutter Richtersveld diamond metaphor drone piece, so I’m going to take you somewhere slightly more abstract in retelling the story of that week.

To me the valley we fished is suspiciously reptilian. Not only does it represent an oasis in the desert, it holds mineral fissures, caves and caverns, and just enough of a mirage to tickle that part of your imagination. The universality of dragons fascinates me, and is usually attributed to either human insecurity and fear for creatures like serpents, or through the discovery of dinosaur bones. There is however the anthropological stumbling block of the Inuit people, who never discovered any decent sized dinosaur bones, were an isolated society, and had no reptiles, or fear of them to pass down … and yet they retained a belief in dragons.

We don’t bat an eyelid at an eight-ton bipedal kangaroo lizard with tooth-pick arms and a bull terrier head, so why are dragons that unlikely? Are they misidentified Pterodactyls We are, after all, not talking about the most unlikely of animal designs. They were never blue whale-big, nor did they have drumstick-like legs with toothpick arms like a T-Rex or other creatures we’ve come to accept as normal.

So, let’s pretend for a moment a few still existed. Some tame, some wild. Or, maybe it would be more fun to decide that there were dragons hiding in plain sight, Men In Blackstyle. To locate a suspect from existing species, I’d have to go fruit bat or guinea fowl…or largemouth yellowfish.

The Ewan Naude largemouth yellow photo that haunted Peter Coetzee.

A LARGEMOUTH YELLOW IS LIKE A BARRAMUNDI/KOB/MEAGRE THAT HUNTS LIKE SOMETHING YOU’D FIND IN THE BRINE. ‘THIS ONE IS OKAY’ I THOUGHT. THIS ISN’T A TROUT. 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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The perfect habitat would be somewhere like the Kalahari Frontier National Park. Devoid of human life and teaming with prey, it even has flourite dragon glass which combusts in a flourescent burst when enough heat is applied.

The G.O.T (Game of Thrones) writers never thought of that one.

We would have forced an evolutionary diversion from their airborne ancestors with baited and harpoon hunts, and eventually the airborne draconus family would retreat to increasingly remote areas. Unable to shake their birdlike habits, they would need high terrain to nest, and the constant threat of human interaction would mean the clever beasts would become airborne less and less to avoid being seen. Think whales leaving the Megaladoninfested tropics and becoming a cold water species.

The smaller dragons would be unable to hunt mammals like their cliff-nesting brethren, and would soon have to find a way to hunt in the fertile waters of remote river valleys. Darwin would be proud of the learnt swimming behaviours and it wouldn’t be long (evolutionary speaking) before gills arrived and the paddle tail formed. They would end up looking strikingly familiar in juvenile form to the entirely fishy fish smallmouth yellowfish, but close inspection reveals the obvious whiskers and dragon face.

Their preference for flesh would remain, and although some anglers often catch large smallmouth on largie flies,

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on this trip I would fish something that, on first sight, was fortuitously nicknamed ‘The Pterodactyl’ by Mavungana guide Gareth Reid.

It was a risk fishing such a big fly. It would be binary for me; big dragon, big catfish, but nothing in between. The appearance of a few smaller fish schooling behind The Pterodactyl at the end of one of the first swings with Gareth in a crystal clear tail out, didn’t help my cause, or confidence, but I’m a stubborn one.

Adversity usually lends itself to fantastic reads, with a climatic ending of a hero shot, but this trip was the inverse. As we began drifting down that valley I hummed the trademark banjo tune from Deliverance while I winked at Gareth, but we were unaware of just what was unfolding beneath our pontoons. I’d like to draw some conclusion from the rapidly dropping atmospheric pressure and high moon, but it didn’t matter what set it off. It was about to be what guide Nicola Vitali (of Sudan/Socotra repute) calls, in his wonderful Italian accent, an “absolute massacre.” In an hour and a half, the lead boat had a 15lb and 17lb fish to hand, and I’d spotted a handful of leviathans racing across pools. With no reference point or experience on the water, I was too scared to jinx it and kept my mouth tightly shut, but there was hope and pressure. It had that feeling that those days have, when you can almost count down a strike and there’s a tangible sense of something special in the air.

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“THEN CAME THE UNCERTAINTY. THIS IS A CRAZY FLY. I’M FISHING A FAST SINKING SHOOTING HEAD OVER THE BOTTOM. I’M NOT DOING THE NORMAL THING.” Then came the uncertainty.

This is a crazy fly. I’m fishing a fast sinking shooting head over the bottom. I’m not doing the normal thing. With three on the boat I’d try my best to hint at a preference for deep, slow water. We took off post lunch and immediately I spotted a massive dragon traversing the pool, but in an impossibly fast tail out that was full of long grass. Convinced he’d seen us, I gave the signal to continue down the rapid.

The next pool was deep and opaque, and I had my eye on an awkward turn opposite a boulder garden that I was told had produced fish on exploratory trips to this stretch. I was still slightly uncomfortable with the lack of contact as I cast upstream to get the fly and line on the bottom by the end of the swing. But I stuck with the process and tried my best to have the line unwind and start dragging under a section of overhanging reeds, convinced I’d probably lose my fly there. But maybe, just maybe, a big D would be lying at rest from the unrelenting current, would start to follow my flying squirrel downstream and would pounce in those few seconds of tension as the line unwound at the end of the swing. Unlikely, but possible.

Some fish are meant to come to hand, while some seem doomed from the second the hook up happens. My fish was a bit of both. The swing had finished and I’d begun to retrieve to set my next cast in the lie. I felt a rock or two on the fly, and, not completely concentrating, a strike unlike anything I’ve had in freshwater happened. You’ll often hear the, “It almost pulled the rod out my hand,” story, but this one almost did. I was looking back at guide Justin Rollinson while feeling an imperfection in my rod’s cork handle when it took, but it was that violent. The fly line jumped up, and immediately two loops wrapped around the stowed sneaker motor. I’ve learnt to focus only on the tangle in a situation like this and I got the last loop off with seconds to spare. The run just never stopped, and what seemed like a hundred metres of backing screamed off the reel. I checked tension on the Fortuna X1. It was bloody tight. This was trouble. I looked down and noticed that a loop had also jumped on the backing.

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“Swamp thing, DUNUHNUHNUH, you make my heart sing.”

The Troggs tribute band, Mark Killick and Mavungana Flyfishing’s Gareth Reid, serenade a hefty largemouth yellow.

Fluorite, aka ‘dragon glass’ which explodes when thrown in the fire. Batteries and Daenerys Targaryen not included.

‘Oh god, no’, I thought, ‘Not now’.

I screamed at the other angler, Roger Upton, to lift anchor.

At first it felt like he misheard but, on a third or fourth scream, I felt us move at almost the exact moment the loop seized the reel. I quickly got some line back when the tension vanished. We all thought the fish was gone, but for some reason I tucked and started double hauling backing. There wasn’t much pull left. Maybe he was coming back towards us. Just before fly line tension was back, the fish took off again upstream. Cue a high pitched awkward squeak from me. Justin was dead quiet. We both knew what this was, and we were shitting ourselves. Another run downstream and I’d be ruined by all the backing, so for the remainder of the fight I had the fly line in hand. There were one or two last gasp dives for the depths before Justin netted the monster, and a scream that cleared the trees of birds came out both of our mouths.

Had we not had a scale, I would have guessed that fish at 30lbs, but the aggregate of a few measurements put it at 20.9lbs. I could almost put two fists in its mouth- with

hindsight, a measurement I’m both confused and amused that I took. Luckily no kids were watching. We took a few safety shots as it came out of the net, and we were all shaking. What an animal. I peeked in the mouth. The fly was literally hanging by a thread and, on lifting the fish, it fell out. I’d pulled as hard as I could on that fluoro. Justin, Gareth and I laughed at the comedy of errors that was the fight from start to finish. That night at camp I tied my fly line to a tree and hiked across a valley to get to the point where the backing had seized. It measured eight metres from fly to wrap. That might not seem like a hell of a lot, but this was a flooded boulder garden, and this was fresh water. I was still in absolute disbelief that it eventually went right.

The river got better and better over the following days, but the dragons had retreated. The massacre had passed. The fishing remained wild and the sights and sounds phenomenal, but my greed for one more dragon made me persist with my Larry Dahlberg who’s he? ways by day, and my Amy Winehouse ways by night.

WE TOOK A FEW SAFETY SHOTS AS IT CAME OUT OF THE NET, AND WE WERE ALL SHAKING. WHAT AN ANIMAL. I PEEKED IN THE MOUTH. THE FLY WAS LITERALLY HANGING BY A THREAD AND, ON LIFTING THE FISH, IT FELL OUT. 40

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At 20.9lbs, Pete’s largemouth yellow/miniature dragon was the fish of the trip.

SHOP THE MISSION DRAGON-STOPPING GEAR FOR THE ORANGE RIVER WITH M AV U N G A N A F LY F I S H I N G

Rod - Hardy Proaxis Sintrix 6-weight

Reel - Hardy Fortuna X1

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Fluoro – Trout Hunter Fluoro 0x

Gordon’s gin

Line - Scientific Anglers Wet tip Express 200g 7-weight

Shirt - Skinny Water Culture Bad Perm

Rods, reels and lines available at Mavungana Flyfishing www.flyfishing.co.za

Poesket - meet the smoking permit of doom.

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D ES T I N AT I O N

PATAGONIAN HONEY DEVIN ISEMONGER RISKED IT ALL BY T U R N I N G H I S H O N E Y M O O N T O PATA G O N I A I N T O A F LY F I S H I N G T R I P. F O R T U N AT E LY, H I S B E T T E R H A L F I S A S A I N T. Photos Devin and Mandy Isemonger

“You have to work for your fish on the Limay; she doesn’t give you anything for free.”

Julian’s voice is soothing, but his delivery is very matter of fact. As far as guides go, Julian is the strong silent type. He knows this river like the back of his hand and so far I feel like I’m letting him down. Mandy and I have been in Argentina for 48 hours and, thanks to jetlag and the ‘vibrant nightlife’ of Buenos Aires, we haven’t slept a wink since we hit the ground.

The Limay is a beast of a river, fast flowing and wide with quite a low fish density for a Northern Patagonian river. I’m perched on the front of the drift boat whipping a huge articulated streamer into gaps between the trees as we fly past. The takes are few and far between and I’ve missed the first three already. Julian nods his head toward a beautiful gap and my casting is bang on. The

streamer lands inches from the bank and the current pushes it under a mass of overhanging vegetation.

Strip… strip... strip… Nothing.

Julian and I share a despondent look. Surely!? Turning back, I prepare to cast again when a large yellow shape materializes from the middle of the river and brutalizes the streamer. Julian waits me to get some sort of control over the bucking rod before flashing a huge smile, “Hello Mr Brown Trout!”

And so began my five week love affair with the brownies of Northern and Central Patagonia. Mandy, my wife/adventure partner would spend much of this trip competing with ‘Mr Brown Trout’ for my attention. It was a contest in which she participated half-heartedly, happy to lose most bouts and simply take in the moment. For a young couple from the Eastern Cape, there was a lot to take in. This trip was 18 months in the making, a belated honeymoon of sorts.

“FOR A YOUNG COUPLE FROM THE EASTERN CAPE, THERE WAS A LOT TO TAKE IN. THIS TRIP WAS 18 MONTHS IN THE MAKING, A BELATED HONEYMOON OF SORTS.” Left: Devin Isemonger drinking beer on the Limay river, under the watchful eye of guide Julian from Outfitters Patagonia

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“Hello Mr Brown Trout!” Like a paperback novel or a ‘friends with benefits’ relationship, rainbow trout provided Devin Isemonger with excitement, but rarely the deeper satisfaction he was looking for from brown trout.

Both currently 30, Mandy and I have a pact, to stand on every continent by the age of 40. South America has always been number one on that list.

I’m not a huge fan of being guided and guides are expensive so, besides our day with Julian and one or two other float trips, we agreed that this was to be a DIY endeavour. The plan was to start in San Carlos de Bariloche and head south until we ran out of time, money or land. (For anyone interested, it was a close tie between time and money.)

Our modus operandi was to bus between the small towns that dot the Patagonian landscape, sleeping the first night in an Airbnb and then renting a car the next day. The first day in any town belonged to Mandy.

These usually began with breakfast at a bakery and a walk around town. Once we had established that

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there was nothing else of cultural or architectural significance worth viewing, more often than not we chose to end the evening sampling Patagonia’s finest cuisine i.e. a red meat/wine binge.

The next day, with a rented car and a boot-full of tinned tuna, red wine and pasta, we would set off exploring.

Using Google Earth, I had, before we left, marked every spot where main roads crossed or ran alongside major rivers. These were our access points and campsites. You can camp and fish anywhere within ten metres of the high-water mark in Argentina as long as you can get there without trespassing through private land.

That’s a lot of water to choose from.

Hours were spent pouring over Google Earth and leafing through a copy of ‘Flyfishing in Patagonia:

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A Troutbum’s Guide to Argentina,’ that I’d borrowed from Ed Truter, an Eastern Cape local like me who has seen more of the fishing world than most people would in three lifetimes.

For the six months preceding the trip this became a daily obsession for me.

Where to go, where to fish? I was wracked by indecision. In the end we settled on three main towns. We began with a brief stay in San Carlos de Bariloche where we spent our day on the Limay with Julian, from Outfitters Patagonia, the area’s top guiding crew. It was the baptism, the expert crash course if you like, which laid the foundation for the DIY weeks ahead.

Next up, the small mountain town of San Martin. It was here that we rented our first car. The keys to a small Peugeot hatchback were handed to me nervously by an aging

“THE NEXT DAY, WITH A RENTED CAR AND A BOOT-FULL OF TINNED TUNA, RED WINE AND PASTA, WE WOULD SET OFF EXPLORING. YOU CAN CAMP AND FISH ANYWHERE WITHIN TEN METRES OF THE HIGH-WATER MARK IN ARGENTINA. THAT’S A LOT OF WATER TO CHOOSE FROM.”

Argentinian. No doubt our haggard appearance coupled with the fumes of ‘vino tinto’ from the night before, were making him think twice. We set course for Rio Calaeufu.

Once on the ground in Patagonia, everything I thought I knew about these rivers changed, but the Rio Calaeufu was always going to be on the list. Large enough to be floated in the early season and running mostly through private land, the Rio Calaeufu

is also known for its high ratio of browns to rainbows. Most guides admitted to only having fished it once or not at all. With the water levels too low for boat traffic in the late season and with few access points, we gambled on this being a secluded gem. That’s all I’m going to say about this river, other than it was my favourite. After three nights of camping on its banks, we ran out of food and Mandy literally dragged me from the undergrowth, dog tired, wet, dirty and smiling.

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Within the first two weeks of this trip I had my fill of rainbows. Rainbows grabbed streamers and took to the air, they yanked dry flies under by the dropper nymph and devoured ugly dry flies in splashy rises. Like a paperback novel or a ‘friends with benefits’ relationship, they provided constant sparks of excitement, but rarely the deep satisfaction I was looking for. They did everything right, but every few hours, between the chaotic rainbow action, when I least

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expected it, a brown trout would find a way to sucker punch me in the adrenal gland. The brown trout of Patagonia are what will see me back on these waters someday. Each one is so stunningly unique but most have two things in common. They are large and they are unpredictable.

From San Martin we caught a bus southward into the Central Patagonian town of Esquel. Here once again, a rental car and a twoman tent provided access to a number of beautiful streams and unspoilt wilderness. It was here on our way to the Chilean border that we stumbled upon the Rio Futaleufu.

This massive tail water proved to be just the right mix of challenging and rewarding. We decided that fishing wise, we could do no better on this trip and followed this river through the Andes for our last week, ending up in its namesake town in Chile.

“I’m a bit cold”.

I looked back to see Mandy beneath her down jacket looking a little worse

for wear. “Ten more minutes?” I said for the third time in half an hour. “Ten more minutes,” as she flashed a brave smile and rubbed her hands together.

From my position thigh-deep in the rapidly flowing waters of the Rio Futaleufu, I contemplated for a second how anyone could be so unselfish as to sit and watch me immerse myself in my addiction for hours on end. Tired, I launched another cast upstream allowing the icy breeze to push my flies to the current seam. I was just in the process of admitting to myself that I was being a selfish knob and fully intended to fish until dark, when I lost sight of the dry fly. Not just any dry fly mind you. This hideous cross between Edward Truter’s Balbyter and a Gypsy King is quite hard to miss even in such fast moving, choppy water. I lifted the rod to find that another 40cm rainbow had attached itself to the nymph below. The fish took full advantage of the light tippet, swimming swiftly into the raging torrent in the middle of the river and hitching a free ride downstream. They all bloody do that in the Futaleufu and the response from the angler must always be the

same… stumbling downstream, while cursing and chasing the backing knot.

Mandy’s confidence in my ability to land Patagonian rainbows far exceeds my actual ability. For the fifteenth time that evening I looked back to see her on her feet again. Face lit up and our shitty cheap camera grasped firmly at the ready between frozen fingers.

I guess that’s what this trip was about.

I’m lucky enough to have married someone who truly does enjoy coming fishing with me. Not for the fishing but for the excitement and the exploration of new places. I tried my best to meet her halfway but, to be honest, Patagonia is somewhat lacking in fine dining and cultural experiences. Next trip though, it’s all about her. I wonder what the wine is like in Kamchatka?

This was a DIY trip except for a day on the Limay in San Carlos de Bariloche, where Devin was a guest of Outfitters Patagonia (www.outfitterspatagonia.com).

Thanks to Martin Freedman for making that happen.

“TIRED, I LAUNCHED ANOTHER CAST UPSTREAM ALLOWING THE ICY BREEZE TO PUSH MY FLIES TO THE CURRENT SEAM. I WAS JUST IN THE PROCESS OF ADMITTING TO MYSELF THAT I WAS BEING A SELFISH KNOB WHEN I LOST SIGHT OF THE DRY FLY.” 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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PROFILE

THE MURDER BIRD F R O M W O R L D C H A M P I O N C A S T E R , T O B U I L D I N G I C O N I C F LY L O D G E S , G A I N I N G E X P E R I E N C E AT G . L O O M I S A N D C R E AT I N G H I S O W N B R A N D I N E C H O F LY F I S H I N G – I F A L I F E O F VA R I E T Y, S E L F - D E T E R M I N AT I O N A N D H A R D - E A R N E D R E S P E C T I S W O R T H C O V E T I N G – T I M R A J E F F I S K I L L I N G I T. Photos Tim Rajeff archive

“If I could be any bird in the world, I’d be that one you described that eats crocodiles and shits on its legs.”

What did I know before I spent time with them? The basics.

Tim and Kath have their own fly rod company, Echo Fly Fishing, and they also have the distribution for Airflo in the United States. More on that later.

We’re sitting around the dining room table in our home in Cape Town, South Africa discussing African birds. Tim Rajeff and Kath Hunt, his partner in Echo Fly Fishing and life in general, are in town as part of a roadshow across South Africa. They’ve got demos planned for the notoriously taciturn fly fishing crowds in Cape Town, Pietermaritzburg and Johannesburg, with a week’s fishing in Lesotho thrown in mid-trip. Prior to this they were in Brazil fishing for peacock bass and afterwards they’ll head back home to Vancouver, Portland Oregon. As windows into their lives go – this kind of globe-trotting, brand-awareness, business trip/fishing adventure is not unusual at all.

What else did I know? They are both high level casting instructors and Tim is a former world fly casting champion.

If cricket has the Waugh brothers and tennis the Williams sisters, then fly fishing has Tim and his equally “famous” older brother, Steve Rajeff (yes, yes, fame as seen in the tiny niche of fly fishing). Steve’s a big cheese rod builder over at G.Loomis and he is a multiple world champion caster. With Steve at G.Loomis and Tim owning Echo, there’s a vague hint of the famous sibling rivalry between Adidas and Puma and the brothers Dassler, just with zero animosity.

On the bird front, they’re clearly keen, cooing and gawking at common local irritants like the hadeda and Egyptian goose. In conversation we’ve now graduated to birds they might soon see in Lesotho, like the Lammergeier (bearded vulture), an apex predator known for stealing and dropping lambs from great heights. We’re also running through bucket list African birds, like the innocuous-sounding African Shoebill, which also goes by the more accurate name, Murder Bird. A fearsome, category-defying, hook-beaked cross between a loner pelican and a silent assassin stork, it stands as tall as a man, shits on its legs to keep cool and eats baby crocs for breakfast. Fishing in swamps, it stands silent for hours on end, but when it makes a sound, what comes out is the noise of a machine gun, just because it can.

Given the choice to be reincarnated as a bird, Tim who is a wisecrack a minute, chooses that. Over the course of several days, as I gave them the short tour of Cape Town, I got to know both Kath and Tim, but more so Tim for this interview.

It might a threadbare premise to hang a profile on, but bear with me as Tim reveals the independent, pigeonholedefying nature of his inner-Murder Bird.

What did I learn that I did not know before? A lot.

Before competition, before Echo, before Airflo and all the rest, way back when Tim had hair, he and Kath were in the fly fishing lodge game. In fact, they met at a lodge in Alaska where Tim was guiding, while Kath was working both in the lodge and as a commercial fisherman.

As Tim puts it, “When you’re in a fishing lodge and you meet somebody, it’s like living on a boat, you either want to kill them or sleep with them. I chose the latter.”

From Alaska, he convinced Kath to visit him in San Francisco where he was working as a builder.

“Three days after she got there she was running a jackhammer through this rock with my dad on the other end of the rope and I thought, ‘free labour, this one’s a keeper.’”

Meanwhile, while Tim was courting, constructing and competing in fly casting tournaments, Steve had been cracking on with his career as a rod builder at G.Loomis.

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This contact led to Tim and Kath’s next move, because Gary Loomis wanted to build a lodge in Russia. More specifically, he wanted to rope in Tim, an American fishing guide of Russian descent and a man (to misquote Liam Neeson) with a very particular set of skills, to build the lodge.

Tim says, “I spoke Russian, I knew how to build, I had electrical and plumbing experience, construction experience and I was a guide. Katherine had the perfect complimentary skillset in terms of food. She’d been in the restaurant business, she understood the lodge business and was able to live outside in tough environments. The lodge opportunity was in the Kola Peninsula, which is 60 miles above the Arctic Circle. There’s no industry there except reindeer herders and mosquitoes. That was the beginning of the Ponoi.”

Yes, that Ponoi, arguably the most prolific Atlantic salmon fishery in the world.

Kath says, “When we started the camp, the helicopter dropped us off with coolers at the top of the hill. We were sitting there and could see the home pool with fish coming up. There was nothing there except us and a few things.”

In 1991 they would build the camp and spend the next five seasons running it. Tim recalls how it was and still is such a special place. People would come from all over the world to experience the fishing and old-timers would weep – comparing it to the under-pillaged fisheries of their childhoods, saying that they did not think places like that existed any more.

Every September Tim and Kath returned to the United States for off season. Once the planning for the next season was sorted, all info obtained, everybody debriefed and the books cleared, they would take time off - spending the entire month of November fishing off the grid in Baja, almost the polar opposite of life on a Russian river.

Tim says, “Katherine and I would take my old yellow truck and we would fish, snorkel, dig clams, drink tequila and hang out with friends. It sees a lot of pressure now, but that fishery is a lot of fun. Roosterfish are awesome, a jack basically.”

After five and a half years of six-month, seven-day, 90-100 hour weeks on the Ponoi, they came back to the US with the plan of starting their own lodge business. The idea was to start in the Bahamas and then move on to Argentina, building a new lodge every two years. Life got in the way and brought them closer to Portland, Oregon where Kath is from. Having worked for Gary Loomis on building and managing the Ponoi camp, and with his brother already a 15year veteran at the G.Loomis rod factory, Tim landed a job

Green light means go for a smallmouth yellowish caught on the new Echo Riverglass rod on the Bokong river in Lesotho.

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Kath Hunt double-hauling on a bonefish flat.

“WHEN YOU’RE IN A FISHING LODGE AND YOU MEET SOMEBODY, IT’S LIKE LIVING ON A BOAT, YOU EITHER WANT TO KILL THEM OR SLEEP WITH THEM. I CHOSE THE LATTER.” alongside Steve, while Kath worked for a friend’s restaurant.

At G. Loomis, Tim worked his way from the bottom up.

“I started as a grunt, doing some of the rod manufacturing stuff but then settled into the engineering department. I worked side by side with my brother on rod designs and equipment. Working on the production side, figuring out machines and helping Steve make rods was awesome.

When I came back from Russia, I stepped right into this storm of innovation and super cool equipment.”

You can imagine the work environment Tim found himself in. A visionary boss in Gary Loomis (who begged Boeing engineers to add some unusually fine carbon fibres to their orders), a genius older brother in Steve building the best rods available at the time, a factory full of machines and machinists and the backing to create incredible products.

Think of it as the Tesla of its time (within the fly fishing world of course).

Tim says, “The reason Loomis was on top of that game was because Gary produced the equipment that made the rods.

Everybody else bought that stuff. Gary Loomis is probably responsible for 80% of the innovation with those original, very light performance fibres. I was around when the GLX was started. Those fibres were unique. My brother was the genius at understanding how the fibres would work, the layers, the thickness, the internal structure, like the rings

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on a tree. How those would lay up to produce a particular product of a particular strength. I followed that, but he’s by far the most experienced rod builder in the world having built 50 to a 100 000 rods. I learnt a lot from him. In time I was given the responsibility of running the engineering department. Working side by side, my responsibility was to help him design and then take care of everything else.

Where should the guides be, what diameter, how much should they weigh, what are the break strengths on the rods. We had some genius machinists in the company who would build machines that could consistently break rods at specific angles and specific strengths. We all worked as a team.”

On paper, it was the dream job. Security, innovation, family, fishing. And for the 5-6 years Tim spent there, it truly was the dream job. But if Tim comes across as the kind of guy who if he were a bird would make machine gun noises simply because he can, you get the feeling he was never designed to permanently join a flock.

When UK-based fly line manufacturer Airflo approached G. Loomis to take over their American distribution, G.Loomis did not go for it, but Tim saw the opportunity.

Tim says, “That night I went home and asked Kath if she wanted to start a company. She said sure. The next day I

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From building the original Ponoi camp to traveling the world, Tim Rajeff has had his fill of Atlantic salmon.

gave my notice and started Rajeff Sports. We were only in business to do Airflo distribution. Years earlier, between surfing and partying and living in San Diego, I studied plastics. I understood them. Airflo’s polyurethane materials, like the stuff your car paint is made of, has all these incredible attributes. That’s what Airflo was making. When Airflo said we should be their distributors, I thought, let’s do it. I banked our living on this.”

When I told Steve I was leaving, he was like, ‘Wow, bummer.

Awesome job bro, good luck.’ I was his right hand man, we’d finish each other’s sentences and really enjoyed each other’s company. It was fun, we had a lot of projects, but after being in Russia and having that incredible experience of seeing a concept go from zero – we decided on a whim, ready for some change, that maybe I wasn’t meant to be in a factory 9-5.”

Tim may have escaped the factory life, but when he and Kath started Rajeff Sports, it wasn’t all plain sailing. They began working on it from a spare room of their house in the middle of winter, unwinding existing Airflo problems until by June 1st 2001 they were ready to officially turn the phones on.

Tim says, “The first five phone calls all went along the lines of, ‘Oh, you’re the new Airflo guy? I need to return something.’ The first day we made negative $18 in sales.”

That first year was exceptionally tough. June, July, August went by and while they were happy working on their new business, they were not making any money. Then September 11th, the World Trade Centre plane impact happened and the whole mood of the nation dropped.

Tim says, “People weren’t traveling, fishing destinations were in trouble, business retracted, the economy took a dip. The next year, six months into our company, we realized we needed another product. We needed to do more. That’s when we hatched the idea of starting our own r od company.”

Enter Echo…Echo…Echo…

If you’re going to start a rod company, one of the big questions is - how are we going to position ourselves? Do you go high-end and deal with the associated costs and competition, or, do you go for the affordable market and try dodge the cheap and nasty label? For Tim, who’d been at the coal face of rod production at Loomis, there was a gap in the middle ground, centred on both quality and affordability.

“It wasn’t going to be anything to compete with my brother at Loomis or my friends at Sage, Scott or Winston, all those

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"I’VE ALWAYS BEEN THE GOOF OFF, THE YOUNGEST BROTHER ALWAYS BREAKING SHIT AND LOSING STUFF, CAUSING TROUBLE. DEPENDABILITY WASN’T ALWAYS MY STRENGTH."

premium price brands. I thought, let’s be a blue collar, doit-yourself working man’s product. I batted some ideas for names around and came up with Echo, which was because we wanted to donate money back to the environment, so “ecological.” We also wanted to be an “economical” lowerpriced rod. We wanted to stay in that lower part of the price pyramid with introductory prices. If somebody has an expensive rod and is going on a long trip and doesn’t want to buy a second expensive rod, they can use our rod as a backup. I didn’t know what kind of response we would get and we didn’t have money for advertising or anything so we just sort of picked up sales reps here and there through word of mouth. Echo started that next year in 2002.”

Fast forward a time-lapse of the last 16 years of Rajeff Sports as a business. For seven years they ran the business out of their home. For nine years they did not take a draw, instead pumping any profit back into the business and supplementing their income elsewhere. Kath worked in restaurants while Tim did a lot of casting instruction and worked on a fly fishing TV show for LL.Bean. Poor guy had to travel all over the world and fish.

Slowly, but surely, they built a profitable business. As a brand, there was never a giant multinational backer behind them. Everything they have done, carving out a niche in the affordable rod market, they have done themselves through blood, sweat and tears and it’s taken them years.

Note that the name of the parent company for Echo and Airflo US, is Rajeff Sports for a reason. Tim likes the idea of Steve one day teaming up with him again in some way. It’s by no means a guarantee, but maybe in his retirement it will become an option.

“My dream was always to have Steve leave what he’s doing and, while we’re young enough, to start some sort of crazy, high-performance rod project. I am a little bit more of a risktaker whereas Steve is pretty comfortable and doesn’t take many chances. He’s been designing rods for over 35 years, has been the world champion 20 or 30 times and is getting towards the end of his career. I’ve always been the goof off, the youngest brother always breaking shit and losing stuff, causing trouble. Dependability wasn’t always my strength.

Now we have a 600m2 warehouse, nine employees, we have about 700 shops that sell our products in the United States, we have international distribution, we continue to grow and gain market share and we’re just really stable.

When he sees what we’ve done and our stability - I think every so often he looks at me and goes, “oh shit, that’s my kid brother!” If he decides he ever wants to do projects, I would love to do them with him.”

Not only did they work well together at G.Loomis, but the brothers Rajeff play well together too. Tim and Steve once entered a fly fishing and casting competition as a team and

won $30 000 of the $52 000 prize money up for grabs. With his half, Tim put in a 40m x 25m cement casting pond at home, complete with targets and spotlights. You can bet that every new Echo rod and Airflo line gets put through its paces there before entering the market.

If you believe in fate, it’s easy in hindsight to look back on a life and surmise that the path someone took was always going to be that way. But it doesn’t always work out well.

The world is full of people who, to outsiders looking in, do not land up where they should be. The middling lawyer who would make an excellent TV presenter, the incredible artist who landed up an architect, the accountant who should have been a farmer, the plumber who should have been a doctor and vice versa and so on. Looking at the trajectory of Tim Rajeff’s life, it’s hard not to believe that everything he did was geared towards getting him to where he is today – that he was put on this planet to guide, build camps, build rods, nerd out on plastics, sell fly lines and to travel the world, teaching casting and fishing with Kath.

The night before he and Kath are due to fly out, Tim points out that he never got a chance to work with me on my casting. Faced with the prospect of one-on-one attention, a combination of fear, arrogance and ignorance washes over me.

“I don’t need this,” I think.

“Really, it’s ok, I’m sure I am fine.”

“We’re losing the light.”

I’d like to think this is a national trait in South Africans. We don’t like to ask for help or directions. We prefer to get lost and find our own way, even if it makes life harder. However, it could just be me.

Tim insists and in the 45 minutes of fading light left in the day, he gently and tactfully corrects my casting on a range of rods, from short distance dry fly accuracy that I will need on the streams of the Western Cape, to long distance doublehauling that I hope will one day get me a GT. On the latter he not only identifies some weird hauling hand movement and lateral rod hand rotation as an over-compensation for an old shoulder injury I carry, but he fixes it too.

My mind blown at the immediate improvement, I take a break and ask him to have a go. As I watch Tim cast in the waning light I see the Echo logo etched across the orange sky. You know the one - it’s like a traffic sign with a silhouette of a man in a cap casting, arms wide open, standing on one leg as he literally throws everything he’s got into that cast, into life.

He looks a bit like a stork or a pelican.

A murder bird.

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TH E M ISSI O N PRES ENTS

NDSS FRIE BENEFIT WITH

I N CO LLABORATI O N WIT H Photos Clint van der Schyff, Andre van Wyk, Tamsin Bunn, Matt Brooke, Nick Murphy

MY NAME IS PHAROAH DJOSER;

FIRST OF MY NAME, KING OF KINGS AND THE FIRST MEN, LORD OF UPPER AND LOWER EGYPT, EMPEROR OF THE 3RD DYNASTY AND PROTECTOR OF THE REALM. SON OF KHASEKHEMWY, THE LAST KING OF THE SECOND DYNASTY AND NIMAATHAP, I WAS HUSBAND (AND BROTHER) TO HETEPHERNEBTI. ALMOST 5000 YEARS AGO, I BUILT THE TEMPLE AT SAQQARA, DEFEATED THE LIBYANS AND EXPANDED MY KINGDOM ACROSS THE SINAI. MY REIGN WAS GLORIOUS, BUT ALAS, IT WAS SHORT LIVED. IN MY TEMPORAL HUMAN FORM, I HAD BUT ONE LIFE, BUT IN MY ETERNAL FORM, I HAVE DIED AND BEEN REINCARNATED OVER 300 TIMES. WAR, FAMINE, DESTRUCTION, LOVE, KINDNESS AND HUMAN INGENUITY - I HAVE SEEN THE BEST AND THE WORST THIS WORLD HAS TO OFFER. FROM A BERSERKER ON A VIKING LONGSHIP, TO A DODO IN A MAURITIAN SWAMP, FROM A MAYAN HUMAN

SACRIFICE, TO ONE OF LOUIS XIV’S COURTESANS AND A FINCH ON DARWIN’S DISSECTION TABLE, I HAVE LIVED MANY LIVES BOTH BIG AND SMALL, SHORT AND LONG, HUMAN AND ANIMAL; IT IS MY CURSE TO DIE AND BE REBORN FOR ETERNITY. I WAS THE LOWLY FOOT SOLDIER WHO SUGGESTED A CHRISTMAS DAY TRUCE BY WAY OF A FOOTBALL GAME BETWEEN BRITISH AND GERMAN FORCES IN 1914 (I DO LOVE A BALL), I WAS ALBERT, THE RHESUS MONKEY LAUNCHED INTO SPACE IN 1948, I WAS THE REASON SHANIA TWAIN GOT OUT OF BED IN THE LATE 90S, I WAS DOLLY THE CLONED SHEEP, AND I WAS AN ACCOUNTANT AT ENRON IN 2001 (MY BAD).

RIGHT NOW, I AM A 2-YEAR-OLD STAFFIE LIVING IN CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA. MY NAME IS DJOSER. BUT YOU MORTAL – YOU CAN CALL ME MR JOE. LOOK UPON MY GUNS, YE MIGHTY, AND DESPAIR!

LOOK UPON MY GUNS, YE MIGHTY, AND DESPAI R!

Y FIRST AGINE, M M I T H G I D BY AS YOU M STANDAR D L O G E H T S PALE IN LIFE WAS HER LIVE T O L L A … GOT WHICH …ER…AHEM I .

N O S I ES. COMPAR N LUXURI I A T R E C USED TO

I HAD THE FINEST , MOST SERVILE WENCHES FROM NUBIA, MESOPOTAMIA AN D THE ORIENT.

S PION HORSE I HAD CHAM TS FIT FOR… AND CHARIO G! WELL…A KIN

R VALLEY AT MY DISPOSAL. THE BOUNTY OF THE ENTIRE NILE RIVE N GEESE ROASTED AND STUFFED LARKS DROWNED IN MEAD, EGYPTIA NILE, HONEYCAKES AND THE WITH DATES, FRESH FISH FROM THE .

FINEST BEER NORTH OF THE SAHARA NOW, ATELY, I UNFORTUN DONE MUST HAVE G TO SOMETHIN THE GODS, DISPLEASE THIS BECAUSE IN TION I REINCARNA NE FULLHAVE BUT O ANT AT MY TIME PEAS AND HIS DISPOSAL. FRIEND.

S I H

Y U G

T

AS SLAVES GO, HE’S AN ODD ONE. LARGE AND FLUFFY, THERE’S NO DOUBTING HE’S LOYAL, BUT FACED WITH A SEVEN-MONTH SIEGE ON THE HITTITES OR A CHARIOT RAID ON THE KINGDOM OF KUSH, I’D RATHER TAKE AN ASSYRIAN OR ONE OF OUR THEBAN THUGS IN TO WAR. WHEN IT COMES TO BUTT SCRATCHES AND OTHER PHYSICAL RELIEF, NUBIAN WENCHES SERVE ME BETTER. WHEN IT COMES TO LOGISTICS, I ALWAYS FAVOUR THE PHOENICIANS.

HE OW, HOW T I KNOW, I KN HERE IS E FALLEN. T MIGHTY HAV OW. N ON, YOU KN A RECESSSIO

E PEASANT LIKE TO ABOVE ALL, HE AND THE BLU D HEAD OUT IN TO LOAD THEIR CHARIOTS AN NK BEER. THE WILD TO FISH AND DRI

“DID I EVER TELL YOU THE ONE ABOUT NEFERTITI’S TITTIES? OK, SO A PERSIAN, A CARTHAGINIAN AND A PHILISTINE WALK INTO A BROTHEL…”

T FISH, IT DOES NO BIG FISH, LITTLE T OU AB LK DO IS TA MATTER. ALL THEY I LY OR (PO CATCH FISH FISH, ATTEMPT TO MP CA THEN RETURN TO MIGHT ADD) AND D PREPARE FOOD. TO DRINK BEER AN

“THIS REMIN CAMP DS ME AIGN OF OU AGAIN IN TH R ST TH E SEC E SUM OND THE N ERIAN DYNA ILE A STY. S T THE C WITH WE FO RACK 3000 RDED OF DA CHAR SOLD IOTS WN A IERS, AND 2 ND LAID 0 000 OH H WAST OW W FOOT E T O E T PAINT HEIR WITH CAMP ED TH THEIR S. E SAN WERE BLOO DS RE D. TH DRIVE D E SUR N BAC VIVOR NEVER K ACR S OSS T TO EN HE SI TER E NAI, GYPT AGAIN .”

O DO I LIKE T , P M A C I HAVE E L BACK AT Y T S E THE IN TH O. ONLY T THINGS D E M O ACCUST BEDOUIN , E S M T O O C I E R B HA MPING C N (OBVS) O T T O C MOST PI GYPTIAN S. TENTS, E L THE TRIMMING AND AL

MY PEASANT’S FRIEND GETS IT RIGHT: • HE SETS UP HIS CAMP IN TWO MINUTES AND I MUST EMPHASIZE THIS – HE DOES IT WITHOUT SLAVES. WONDERS NEVER CEASE. •HE HAS AN INGENIOUS BEDOUIN TENT ON TOP OF HIS CHARIOT AND A SUN AWNING FOR PROTECTION FROM RA. IT POPS UP QUICKER THAN A SANDSTORM IN THE DESERT. •ALL THE GEAR HE COULD POSSIBLY NEED FOR SUSTAINING A WAR/FISHING CAMPAIGN IN STYLE - FOOD, STORAGE, FISHING EQUIPMENT – IT ALL FITS INTO HIS CHARIOT. • THERE’S A SPACE FOR PREPARING MY FOOD AND BEVERAGES. • THIS IS A SELF-POWERED CHARIOT – NO HORSES REQUIRED. THEREFORE, NO HORSESHIT. •HE EVEN HAS A DEVICE FOR KEEPING MY BEER COLD.

UPGRADE PLEASE

MY PEAS ANT? NOT SO MUCH. MY PEAS ANT PREFERS TO GROV EL IN THE D IRT, SLEEPING IN A HOVEL A MONG TH E BEER AM PHORA, SCARABS , LOCU AND RAT STS S.

ME DON’T GET MIGHT WRONG. I BUT I BE A KING, NCESS. I AM NO PRI ROUGH, HAVE SLEPT THE WANDERED ROAD GREAT SILK RIES, FOR CENTU N IGLOO LIVED IN A ITED AND SUMM ST EVEREST JU AND FOR SHITS GIGGLES.

“SO PEASANT I ASK YOU, WITH TEARS IN MY EYES, WHY WOULD YOU DEPRIVE ME OF A CHARIOT AND CARAVAN FIT FOR A KING? WHY SLEEP LIKE A HUNGOVER HITTITE WHEN YOU COULD LIVE LIKE A DEMIGOD OF THE OUTDOORS?

WHY PEASANT, WHY?”

R ALL “PEASANT, FO , YOUR YOUR FAULTS ENE, LACK OF HYGI LOW LIVING ND THE A S D R A D N A T S R BEARD FLEAS IN YOU GOOD - YOU’VE BEEN TO ME...”

“SORT ME OU T WIT AND W H ONE HEN I OF THE S H UFFLE COIL A SE OF THI ND MO S MOR VE ON (PLEAS TAL TO MY E, DEA NEXT F R ANUB ELON M O RM I S, LET USK’S IT BE A HAMST THAT Y ER) – I S OU BE WILL D BURIED ECREE TOMB. ALIVE IT’S TH IN MY E LEAS T I CA N DO.”

FO VISIT FOR MORE IN B.COM WWW.ALU-CA

L AT ES T R E L E A S ES

SALAD BAR

ECHO – RIVER GLASS RODS Following on from the hugely popular BAG Quickshot glass rods, Tim Rajeff of Echo Fly Fishing has turned his attention to the smaller stuff with the new River Glass rods. Rajeff designed the River Glass series to bridge the gap between the expectations of today’s anglers (Fast & Furious 9) and the old days when glass rods ruled the cast. The S2 glass fibres suit most anglers more accustomed to a compact casting stroke. The result is a rod that you can feel load throughout the cast, but which won’t collapse on a long cast (a characteristic common in older glass rods). A return to glass’s fun forward roots, these rods are both accurate and packed with feel. Available in Glacier or Amber colours from 2 to 5-weight in lengths from 6’9” to 8’6” and in three and four-piece travel designs. Echoflyfishing.com, tourettefishing.com

COSTA – SLACK TIDE SUNGLASSES Another cracking product that is as at home on the water as it is in the rest of your life, Costa’s Slack Tide are the laidback west coast inspired frames you did not know were missing from your peepers. Described by Costa themselves as an “athleisure” product (athletic yet leisurely are core descriptions on our Tinder profiles), the Slack Tide both looks good and is infused with functional elements from Costa’s Hydrolite® padding, pin hinge, ventilation and the legendary 580 Polarized, 100% UV Protection lenses so you can see through multiple tide changes. www.costadelmar.com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

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FLYING FISHERMAN – FOWEY SUNGLASSES There are two types of people: those who care for their shades and ensure they live in a soft bag in a little box when not in use and get regular polishing and spa treatments.

And those who sit on their shades, scratch them and lose them. If you fall into the latter category, you might want to check out the range from Flying Fisherman. Sure, they boast AcuTint™ polarized TAC lenses that are optically clear, resist fogging, shrinking and scratching, and provide 100% UV protection and impact resistance. Their polycarbonate frames are also designed with a lightweight, comfortable fit and provide anglers with awesome durability. But the best thing about them is the price. Crush these shades with your fat ass or inadvertently sand blast them and you need not wail and gnash your teeth. At approximately R500/$25, replacing them won’t break the bank. Style-wise, we like the Wayfarer-esque Fowey seen here. www.flyingfisherman.com, www.xplorerflyfishing.co.za

LOOP – V10 SUNGLASSES If Da Terminator fly fished and wore polaroids, we suspect he’d wear a pair of these bad boys from Scandi rod and reel gurus, Loop. Given that the literal translation of ‘Hasta La Vista’ is “until the next sighting,” it would be appropriate.

Available in four distinct lens colours (Copper/Green, Blue/Grey, Yellow, and Copper/Flash), the V10s feature a robust and slightly wider frame design to offer total eye protection. These sunglasses utilise outstanding polarised optics and polyamide lens technology to dramatically reduce surface glare and refraction from the water surface. www.looptackle.com, www.flyfishing.co.za

SMITH CREEK - NET HOLSTER There comes a time in most fly anglers lives, when they will A) not only get into a big fish, but also B) find themselves ineffectually slapping at their backs mid-fight as if in the advanced stages of a Bird of Paradise mating ritual. It’s an awkward moment – your eyes 100% focused on the fish, but your brain panicking about why the hell you can’t get your hands on your net. Nets need to be out of the way while you are fishing except for when you need them and, for those who use vests or hip packs, a simple gadget like the Smith Creek Net Holster makes that possible. No more fumbling, no more fuck ups. smithcreek.co, frontierflyfishing.co.za

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SCOTT – FLEX RODS Oh hello friend! Do you like to troot? Have you found the right trooting-stick for you? Perhaps, if it’s pricier more formidable sister, the Radian, is out of your range, you ought to consider Scott’s mid-priced rod, the Flex? With a slightly heavier tip than the Radian and a marginally more moderate action, a 5-weight Flex can handle pretty much all trooting situations, but it comes into its own when it comes to medium distance casting. Now available at Upstream Fly Fishing. scottflyrod.com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

TROUTHUNTER CDC FLY DRESSING Ducks self-lube (no, you can’t try that at home) using oil from the preen gland found near the base of their tails. That oil is what helps them float high and dry on the water.

It’s the same stuff that goes into TroutHunter’s CDC Fly Dressing and it will have the same effect on your CDC flies. Totally natural, it won’t mat, discolour, or damage even the most delicate flies. Water off a duck’s back boet. trouthunter.shoplightspeed.com, frontierflyfishing.co.za

SMITH CREEK - SPENT LINE WRANGLER Trying to train a length of spent tippet to stay in a pocket is like trying to get a Labrador puppy to chill. It won’t happen.

Enter the Kiwi tackle nerds over at Smith Creek who have come up this nifty line wrangler so you can spend less time jabbing at your pocket and more time fishing. Like a Zen monk of sustainable fly fishing, you get to keep the environment clean and keep your cool all at the same time. smithcreek.co, frontierflyfishing.co.za

ORVIS – COMFY GRIP NIPPER AND ZINGER COMBO Small, but essential, without a good nipper on a zinger we’d be lost (and our dentist visits more frequent). Nippers don’t come much better than Orvis’s Comfy Grip Zinger Combo—a Comfy Grip Nipper with enhanced grip and machined from surgical stainless steel attached to a durable flyfishing zinger with 20” reach. www.orvis.com, www.flyfishing.co.za

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DUBAI ON THE FLY 2019 The epicenter of the planet, Dubai is both a springboard to other places and an amazing destination all unto itself.

Unique in so many ways from boasting the world’s tallest building to the world’s only 7-star hotel, the world’s largest shopping malls, some of the world’s best sports events, indoor ski slopes, fast cars, the natural wonders of the surrounding deserts and much, much more. As if all that wasn’t enough, Dubai is also an incredible fly fishery.

When the Dubai Palms and World islands were built they created an ideal marine environment that attracted a huge amount of fish species many of which are excellent targets on fly. The queenfish action is so good that it has to be one of the most consistent queenfish fisheries in the world. It’s not just ‘queenies’ that chase the fly, you also stand a good chance of catching Kingfish (Spanish Mackerel), Golden Trevally, Cobia and Bonito.

Whether you are on your way to fish in the Seychelles, Sudan or Tanzania, heading home or simply visiting Dubai for its own delights, make sure you allocate a day to get over jetlag and experience urban fly fishing at its best.

We call it ‘Dubai on the fly’. Visit oceanactivefly.com and book now.

@oceanactivefly

Facebook @oceanactivefly PARTNERS WITH

SEMPERFLI – STRAGGLE STRING AND QUICK NYMPH DUB New on the tying desk are these two products from Semperfli. First up, Straggle String.

A micro chenille with built-in straggle bits and UV flecks, it’s what Hans von Klinken uses in place of peacock herl for his Klinkhamers. It’ll take any other pattern that needs some built-in wiggle (think girdle bugs, stonefly nymphs, Zaks etc) to another level. Then there’s Semperfli’s Quick Nymph Dub. Essentially, dubbing on a string, it gives both beginner and experienced fly tiers an easy to use alternative to spinning dubbing and results in irresistibly buggy-looking flies. www.semperfli.net, www.xplorerflyfishing.co.za

FLYMEN CO – SHRIMP & CRAY TAIL If you want to tie Alec Gerbec’s unbeatable WMD (Weapon of Mass Destruction) trigger pattern, you need these things. Flymen Co’s Shrimp & Cray Tails are stainless-steel weights molded in the shape of crustacean tails. Use them in place of bead chain eyes and dumbbells. They’ll also come in handy for a raft of other ties from carp crawfish patterns to bonefish, redfish and bass. flymenfishingcompany.com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

SIMMS - UTILITY LEASH Take it from guys who have dropped exorbitantly expensive pliers into blue holes on tropical flats never to be seen again – a leash is a good idea. The Simms Utility Leash ensures that the mere concept of that comedy of errors never gets past the pilot episode.

With 40 inches of coil leash at your disposal and swivel quick releases, your pliers will always be at hand when you need them most (for advanced GT dentistry). www.simmsfishing.com, frontierflyfishing.co.za

SIMMS – ULTRA LIGHT SHORTS Viva the middle ground! Viva! We love a good pair of shorts, but what we love even more is a pair of shorts that can transition from the fishing world, into the real world and back again. Simms’s Ultra Light Shorts are those day-walking hybrids. Made from COR3™ fabric with UPF 30 sun protection which shields you from harmful UV rays, while also blocking odour and wicking moisture – these shorts are technical fishing shorts, BUT they’re also fashion forward. Throw in a cargo zip pocket, an expandable waist and gusseted crotch and you have a pair of shorts in which you can literally go from canapes with the Queen to throwing clousers at Queenfish without a lower body wardrobe change. www.simmsfishing.com, upstreamflyfishing.co.za

VELDSKOEN – CHELSEA BOOT It’s a vellie, but…it’s also a Chelsea boot. Ergo…it’s a Veldsea? Surf ‘n Turf? Nomenclature aside, we love these new hybrids from the Veldskoen crew which combine the materials of a classic vellie (veldskoen, aka desert boot) with the easy slip-on functionality of a Chelsea boot.

Available in conservative colours, Safari (black) and Farmer (grey) or the more out-there options of J-Bay (blue), Uhambo (pink) and Vilakazi (yellow), these boots are treated so the leather is meant to become increasingly hydrophobic with time. veldskoen.shoes

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1998

WHERE WERE YOU 20 YEARS AGO? WE HAVE MADE QUITE A JOURNEY OVER THE LAST 20 YEARS, THANKS FOR BEING PART OF THE ADVENTURE. When we started in Dullstroom things were rather different. From the floppy fiberglass Fenwick rods, Pflueger reels and the only trout pattern that worked being a Walkers Killer, to the Montana style Outfitter it is today - complete with casting pond, coffee on the go, all the premium brands and guides waiting in their trucks to take you to our exclusive private trout waters. So, while many things have evolved, a lot remains unchanged - like our down to earth advice and the same level of service and commitment we’ve always had to providing you with the best fly fishing available.

Come say hi and pop in for a cuppa at SA’s oldest fly shop.

2019

Mavungana JHB Illovo Square, 3 Rivonia Road,JHB, Gauteng, 011 268 5850

WW W. NMGA G. C .ZA WW W.F T HLY E M IF S SI IS OH N FILY . CO OM

The Mavungana Flyfishing Centre Main Road Dullstroom, 013 254 1 603 72 7 0 1

M U S T H AV ES

PAYDAY

To order prints, get in touch with Ray vis his Instagram account - IG: @notemapez

RAY MONTOYA - PRINTS Sultan of the Empty Quarter Sands, Omani Permit whisperer, Socotran Bonefish molester, Muscat-based art teacher, kick-ass artist and the globe-trotting DIY fly fishing uncle we all wished we’d had growing up, we are (unashamedly) huge fans of Ray Montoya (our first Lifer in issue 2). Of late, our fan-boy frenzy has gone into hyper drive with Ray’s new printmaking, informed by a lifetime of fishing adventures.

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Ray says, “My introduction to fly fishing and drawing began simultaneously in 1972. Both pursuits were extensions of my love of natural history and being outdoors. In the Eighties I transitioned into saltwater fly fishing and printmaking. Again, these two passions blended seamlessly.

Each print is sketched from personal photographs, and then cut by hand from a block of linoleum, rubber or composite cork. Most of the species represented are rendered from fish that

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I have encountered in Oman, Sudan, Yemen, Mexico, Cuba and the South Pacific. Prints are inked and transferred on to heavy Stonehenge paper (in limited editions of 35) without the aid of a press. To date, I have produced 25 species using this process.”

These species include triggers, bones, permit, Omani bream and Geets. Ray is working on trout and smallmouth bass and says he may even do a few yellowfish, leeries and grunter.

TACTICAL FLY FISHING – DEVIN OLSEN We admit, when it comes to fly fishing, we tend to eschew the competition vibes. If you had to compare fly fishing to surfing, we identify more with the soul surfers – those who are in it purely for the stoke, not the competition. BUT and it’s a big butt ( and I cannot lie, you other brothers can’t deny ), competition fly fishing makes you a better angler. That’s a fact.

As a member of Fly Fishing Team USA since 2006, Devin Olsen should know this better than most. In his new book Tactical Fly Fishing – Lessons learned from Competition for All Anglers, you get a pro’s cheat sheet on how to catch more fish.

From strategies and tactics for rivers, small stream and still waters, to rigging and proven comp flies (Olsen admits he is not above squirmies and mop flies), if absorbed, Tactical Fly Fishing will up your game. tacticalflyfisher.com

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SHORTCASTS

G E T T I N G G R I P P Y W I T H A N E W M AT E R I A L , B U G G I N G O U T, H I G H F LY F I S H I N G FA S H I O N A N D X P L O R E R G E T P H Y S I C A L KEEP AN EYE ON… … the Michelin Man (real name – Bibendum) squeezing his way into fly fishing gear over the coming months. First spotted at ICAST last year collaborating on Orvis’s new Pro Wading Boots, now Vision Fly Fishing also have a pair of Michelin collab boots in the offing. The material they’re using? Michelin’s new Outdoor Extreme outsole which is, allegedly, the berries. Orvis claims it offers 25% better abrasion resistance and a 43% improvement in wet rubber traction. The same tire geometry used in cars, means it offers a wider footprint for stability, a higher ratio of surface contact, and a lug pattern that reduces shock and improves pressure distribution. For years Vibram has dominated the non-felt boot-grip market. We’re keen to see what the fat guy can do.

PANIC BECAUSE… … THE INSECT APOCALYPSE is nigh. All over the world scientists are reporting drastic drops in insect numbers.

In the US, the population of monarch butterflies has fallen by 90 percent in the last 20 years, while in German nature reserves insect numbers have decreased by 82 percent in just over 27 years. Aside from our very narrow interest of wanting to have a hatch to match, insects form the very building blocks of the environment. Without them, the future of the planet is more uncertain than ever. The cause? The Four Horsemen of DoomTM – habitat loss, pollution (including pesticides and fertilizers), parasites and climate change. For essential reading, check out ‘The Insect Apocalypse’ on the New York Times. www.nytimes.com ACCEPT THAT… … FLY FISHING is the new black, darling.

We shit you not. Fly fishing seems to be the flavour of the month for fashion brands like Gucci. Witness this fishing jacket, that looks like it was lifted from one of Santa’s elves. A steal at $2000. And what about Japanese fashion brand South2 West8 with their entire Tenkara-focused range?

There you were thinking you had a nerdy hobby, but instead you’re a cutting edge fashionista. Adjusting his bi-focal polaroids in the hereafter, Lagerfeld would be proud.

EXPLORE XPLORER’S NEW SHOP... ...Not since Chris de Burgh spoke directly to the desires of Kloof housewives in the early 90s has there been such a kerfuffle in Durban.

Xplorer, who have the South African agencies for a range of brands from Rio to Redington and, of course, Xplorer, now have their own bricks and mortar store in Durban. Rods, reels, lines, boots, fly tying materials galore and all the other gear you need for that next trip. www.xplorerflyfishing.co.za

“THERE YOU WERE THINKING YOU HAD A NERDY HOBBY, BUT INSTEAD YOU’RE A CUTTING EDGE FASHIONISTA.”

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FLUFF

THREADBARE F R O M A O N E - F LY B O Y T O A M U LT I - PAT T E R N J U N K I E A N D N O W A B E L I E V E R I N S I M P L I C I T Y, W H E N I T C O M ES TO F LY S E L E C T I O N , R AY M O N T O YA’ S G O N E F U L L C I R C L E .

Photo Ray Montoya archive

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ur propensity to over think and make simple and intuitive acts complex, is nowhere better illustrated than in religion and fly fishing. Rest assured, this isn’t going to be one of those waxing allegories paralleling spirituality and trout. I think that topic has been thoroughly covered. What I’m actually referring to is how both (religion and fly fishing) expose our flaws, leaving us grasping for convention and clinging to tired rituals. Yes, I’m talking about fly patterns.

It’s cool when a fish eats a tried and true pattern, especially one of our own ties. Though these successful alignments may reaffirm our faith in a particular fly, they can sometimes blur the truth of what actually went down. Over the years, I’ve come to question the relevance of patterns, and re-examine what defines an effective pattern. Patterns can be classified by materials used, as in the flexo-tubing in crabs, or by profile, as in all caddis flies, or even by the way the fly is structurally designed and weighted, as in all Crazy Charlie patterns. But what about subtle variations like colour?

Do these small variations constitute new patterns, and more importantly, do they matter as much as profile, size, or the way the fly behaves?

I was fortunate in that my mother did not protest when I decided, at age nine, to give up Catholic Mass in pursuit of fish. Honestly, I think she was ecstatic to have me out of the house. Little did I realise then, that

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I was simply replacing one doctrine for another. In the beginning, as in all beginnings, it was simple. I chased trout and bluegills armed with a Fenwick fiberglass rod, a Pflueger fly reel loaded with an expired double tapered line, and an aluminum fly box, which held no more than two dozen flies, half of which were never removed from their spring metal clips. I caught fish with a simple Hare’s ear, and I was happy with these few basic patterns...until I wasn’t.

Yeah, I was one of those zombies, standing waist deep in a frigid river, systematically dead drifting the flavour of the week, one eye fixed on a foam strike indicator, the other scanning the river for the next hatch. I put plenty of rugby ballsized in the net, and I was happy... until I wasn’t.

“HAD I SPENT AS MUCH TIME WORKING ON MY CASTING AS I HAD TYING, MY MEXICAN GUIDE WOULD HAVE BEEN A LOT HAPPIER. THESE TWO FACTORS, BEHAVIOUR AND PRESENTATION, CHANGED MY ENTIRE PERSPECTIVE.”

I first began to question the holy canon of fly selection when I started my annual pilgrimages to Bahia de Asuncion. At the time, I believed the myth that bonefish were wary and selective feeders, and that patterns were crucial to success. Dick Brown had just published his comprehensive tying guide, Bonefish Fly Patterns so, with a copy in hand, I set to work reproducing the seemingly infinite variations of the original Crazy Charlie. As my fly boxes filled up, doubt set in. It seemed counter intuitive to have so many patterns.

How in hell was I going to choose the right one, and how often would I need to change out flies?

Fast forward a decade. I’m now that quintessential pattern geek, loitering in the local fly shops, sopping up any morsel of insight that might give me an advantage on the vice, and ultimately, on the water. I fell hard and deep into the hatch cult, to the point where no trip to my home water, the Rio San Juan, could begin without stopping to check the board at Abe’s Fly Shop. Would the fish be on WD40s, or Biots and Green Disco midges that day? Though I never resorted to a stomach pump, I turned over my fair share of stones.

In the end, the wary part proved to be true. The fish however, ate greedily, pouncing on anything that was well presented and behaved like prey.

Had I spent as much time working on my casting as I had tying, my Mexican guide would have been a lot happier. These two factors, behaviour and presentation, changed my entire perspective. Now, instead of changing flies, my first impulse is to amend my presentation. These adjustments have dispelled the complexity surrounding bonefish (fake news), and would later prove crucial for fooling truly difficult species like Trichinotus blochii (IndoPacific permit).

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Ray Montoya praying to the patron saint of fly patterns in the open-air church on Los Roques, Venezuela.

It worked, a few hours later he caught a tarpon.

Oman’s Arabian perms will snatch up Merkins, ragheads, flexos, fleeing crabs, Crazy Charlies, mantis shrimp and basically, any whacked looking crustacean you put in front of them, provided that (in order of importance): 1. you’ve not roused their suspicion; 2. they can see the fly, and 3. the fly behaves properly.

The fact that most of our perm eats come on the first shot is evidence of this. Once you begin to fidget about, reposition, or recast, the odds of an eat diminish substantially. We are all guilty of deflecting the blame when fish don’t cooperate, especially with permit, which are notorious for their fuckery. But let’s be real, permit are not the picky, tight lipped, zippermouthed creatures we make them out to be. They are aggressive opportunists and, like all good

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hunters, they are astutely aware of the slightest disturbance in their surroundings.

Getting snubbed by a fish, or in life, presents opportunities for reflection and introspection.

Sometimes it’s not obvious what we’ve done wrong but, rest assured, mistakes were made. Understandably, for many, fishing a particular pattern provides a certain confidence. If this confidence means making better presentations, then I guess slight variations can matter. Patterns have always been an integral part of fly fishing. We put a great deal of faith into pattern selection, perhaps at times, disproportionately so.

A few years back, I revisited the San Juan. Though I can no longer thread

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7X tippet through a 22 Biot, I can still effectively dead drift a small nymph through a productive piece of holding water, sans strike indicator!

I carry just a small box loaded with a couple of basic patterns: Copper Johns, Pheasant tails, and Hare’s ears. The same holds true on my beloved Christmas Island flats. Gone are the days of lugging around a plethora of bonefish flies, or constantly struggling to figure out refusals. I’ve grown partial to a tan gotcha in various sizes and weights.

That’s about all I’ll throw, confident in the fact that these fish would happily eat a plain white bread Charlie. I no longer blame fish, or the fly patterns for bad days and, for the most part, I’m okay with mistakes, knowing that it is our fallibility that keeps us coming back.

FLATS TRIPS & GEAR • Simms Intruder Boots • Shilton SR Series • Cortland Lines • Costa Glasses • Varivas Leader

STREAMS TRIPS & GEAR • Simms Freestone Boots • Scott G Series Rods • Rio Gold Lines • Trout Hunter Tippet • Shilton CL & CR Series Reels

LOCAL SALT TRIPS & GEAR • Airflo Cold Salt Lines • Simms Freestone Waders • Shilton Reels

upstream_flyfishing

New Website & Online Shop Now Live

Upstream Flyfishing fish@upstreamflyfishing.co.za www.upstreamflyfishing.co.za 274 MAINROAD, KENILWORTH, CAPE TOWN, SA, 7708

TEL: +27 (0)21 762 8007

IMAGINE... NO CAPE STREAMS

Trout fishing is under threat in South Africa – without FOSAF Do your bit at R300* for a year’s FOSAF membership. *Get in touch with your local club for R150 affiliate discounts.

Photo Ryan Janssens

to fight our battles.

JOIN at www.fosaf.org.za

Inception fly fishing style: Matt Gorlei of Flybru reads about the Rio Grande ... While on the Rio Grande Photo Toby Burrell of Frontiers Travel

WANT MORE ABSORBENT READING MATERIAL? For the finest stories, profiles, destinations, adventures, gear, beer and more...

THE LIFER

THE WARRIOR TA L E N T C A N G E T Y O U P L A C E S , B U T S H E E R B L O O D Y H A R D W O R K A N D P E R S I S T E N C E A R E A R G U A B LY M O R E VA L U A B L E . D U R B A N I T E , A R N O VA N D E R N E S T , H A S T H E F O R M E R , B U T P E R S O N I F I E S T H E L AT T E R . W H E T H E R H E ’ S C H A S I N G T H E D W I N D L I N G P O P U L AT I O N S O F Z U L U L A N D G T S O R P U R S U I N G TA R P O N O F F T H E B E A C H I N G A B O N , H E N E V E R G I V E S U P. Photos Arno van der Nest archive

The first fish I can remember catching was a baby kob Argyromus japonicas at Port St. Johns in the beautiful Transkei. I was probably three years old. I got moved to the side to stay out of the adults’ way and was ‘casting’ two silver, baitless hooks on a trace, when this poor little koblet grabbed the hook, a reflex fluke. My dad said I simply turned around and ran, dragging the poor dude bouncing after me until I couldn’t go any further up the beach. Funny thing is that the first fish I caught on fly in the Bushmans River in the Eastern Cape as a 14 year old, was also a kob. That was caught on a hand-tied white Springbok hair streamer I saw in Flip Joubert’s book – “Die Groot Seehengel boek.”

I’ve called four places home: Bloemfontein - my ancestral home; the Eastern Cape - my spiritual home; Johannesburg – my transitional home and now Durban – my coming of age home. Not sure of the next one, yet.

I’ve worked many different jobs - from shop assistant, to waiter, barman, club DJ, researcher, operational medic, fishing guide, part-time fly tier and seller, sales rep, corporate wannabe, waterskiing instructor, consultant to the medical industry and business owner.

Ideally, on a typical day I rise before dawn to get down to the beach for a paddle or a fish. After that I grab a coffee somewhere with a sea view then it’s on to work.

That would be whatever customer

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visits and hospital theatre cases are booked and I also squeeze in the needed admin. Somewhere in between some gym and swimming if possible and then family and dog time after that. In between I keep an eye on the sea. If there is a gap, I repeat the morning session!

Laid back, dynamic, vibrant, diverse - Durban’s the kind of city that’s really what you make of it.

From a fly fishing perspective it’s mediocre and/or frightening for the purist. For the extremist, there is always the harbour with giant-sized rats (they do eat a poorly presented fly), pigeon-sized cockroaches, radioactive grunter and Megalodonsized mutated Zambos cruising the plastic tides. And then there are also the abundant freshwater options.

We’re pretty spoilt for choice.

The KwaZulu-Natal North coast and Zululand are my home waters. I love the open spaces and the humid, sweaty, salty air where you can still fish a session without seeing another person. A lot has changed along the Zululand coast unfortunately, but once it gets in your blood it’s pretty terminal. You can blank-in silence and still have a great feeling about it.

The best advice I’ve ever been given is never to give up on your dreams, even if it means a temporary detour or an unavoidable delay.

Something I’m proud of is the amount of tackle - rods, reels, flies, hooks and other shit that I can get through airport customs!

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The best party trick I ever saw was a girl in Boston who popped a cherry (stalk and all) into her mouth and gave me her number rolled up in the tongue-knotted cherry stalk she pulled out her mouth when her boyfriend left the table.

Something I have had to work at is my tolerance for bullshit. It is still not up there, yet.

For the most part, I do get along with most people, even those mates that always and at every opportunity seem to feel the need to hook me because they cannot cast properly.

The most satisfying fish I ever caught was probably the GT I got in Southern Mozambique. I worked hard for many years to work out a lot of shit with those fish in the rock and surf areas and getting that fish after five bust ups that day, is still an awesome memory.

I’m not fussy when it comes to drinks. Regal in Gabon, Seybrew in Seychelles, Corona back home. Wine, whisky and then the Jagermeister to celebrate awesome people and fish.

Tequila when the brakes come off.

One place I have to return to is Gabon – it gets in your blood and doesn’t let go.

The handiest survival skill I have is that I am quite quick on sand, water and land, especially when I see buffalo, hippos or ellies. I’m definitely faster than the slowest oke in the group see survival of the fittest or natural selection.

“I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything.”

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“TRY TO BE GOOD TO PEOPLE, THE ENVIRONMENT AND MOTHER EARTH. KARMA IS A BITCH – AND SHE BITES BACK HARD.”

When he’s not chasing tarpon, Arno specializes in targeting GTs in the surf in Northern KwaZulu-Natal and Mozambique and holds the record for the biggest GT on fly from the African coast.

One skill I would you love to master is to learn to Spey cast properly.

When it comes to facing your fears, I’m all for the head-on Caveman approach. That said, in some cases, it’s good to face your fears with a clean set of heels.

Before I die, I’d like chase the next sunrise around the globe and convert that into a solid experience on every continent along the way.

What I get out of fly fishing has not changed over the years. I still get that tingling feeling when picking up my rod, scanning the water and tying on a fly with trembling hands knowing that maybe, just there in that nervous patch, she is waiting.

98

If I could change one thing in fly fishing, it would be the illusion that you can drop a packet of money on going to an exotic venue and come back as an accomplished fly angler.

I’m all for the School of Hard Knocks – I had to repeat a few grades myself just to prove that. Do things for yourself, learn the basics, practise them and get better. Secondly, the idea that charging across the planet after the next exclusive species makes you cooler than Jack Parow – almost like a dinner club consuming the last remaining specimen of the species. Un-cool. It seems the only qualifier to partake is your bank account status or sponsor.

Looking back on my life, if there is one thing I might have done differently, it’s that I had an

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

employment opportunity to join US Fly when Alphonse Lodge started.

Every now and then I reckon I should have taken that. I might have ended up as the head coconut peeler on Alphonse, but shit would have gone down, undeniably.

Most things in life are temporary, get the most out of it, but take heed of your responsibilities. Try to be good to people and the environment and Mother Earth. Karma is a bitch – and she bites back hard.

The last fish I connected with was when I got a solid pull from what looked like a mangrove shoot in Retardsbay, fought it hard in the current for a good couple of seconds but, unfortunately, it was not be - my tippet parted.

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Jason Hale works into position for the per fec t swing. Nor th Umpqua, Oregon. AUSTIN TRIGG © 2018 Patagonia, Inc.

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