The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine Issue #53

CLEARLY INNOVATIVE.

Introducing Magnitude Clear Trout oating line. A specialty line for the moments when you need to be stealthy and precise.

Go ahead, shorten your leader, throw the perfect cast and know you’ve got the right line to reel in that elusive trout.

Duracoat

Specialized dual-polymer design optimizes line stiffness, slickness, and abrasion resistance while significantly reducing line memory and tangles.

EST +

EST+ - proprietary slickness additive that provides unmatched durability, smoother shooting, and eco-friendly performance.

Clear Floating Technology

Clear Floating Technology uses naturally buoyant polymers for the ultimate in stealthy presentation and best-in-class durability.

Optimize Stealth Switch Packs

In fly fishing, everything changes all the time. That’s why we engineer our Stealth Switch Packs to optimize your options. The 3- and 5-liter packs can be worn as a chest, hip or sling pack, clipped to another pack, or attached to your belt. The 9-liter pack is built for left- or right-shoulder wear and easily converts to a hip pack. Features include corrosion-resistant zips, multiple pockets, intuitive organization and Patagonia quality that’s built for years, not seasons.

Your Options

Be prepared, cast where the fish are and never let ‘em see you coming. Simon Chu keeps it simple in Montana. Photos: ANDREW BURR © 2025 Patagonia, Inc.

26. IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK

Following in the footsteps of acclaimed South African fly fishing author Tom Sutcliffe, Matt Kennedy explores the magic valleys of the Eastern Cape Highlands in pursuit of wild trout.

38. C IS FOR SERIOUS Maligned and possibly misunderstood, comp fishing has fair numbers of both fans and detractors. To understand what it is, why it gets on some people’s tits and whether any of the criticism is valid, Tudor Caradoc-Davies dives in deep.

58. THE GHOST AND THE DARKNESS

Rafting down the Kalungwishi River in northern Zambia in search of blue yellowfish, Leonard Flemming learned about the threats lurking in this stunning river but also the existential ones this fishery is facing.

84. BULLS IN A CHINA SHOP

Redfish in Hong Kong? What next, tigerfish in the Bayou? Lured in by bulls, but alert for BS, Matt Kennedy investigates what local angler Martin Connell has been getting up to in the South-East Asia archipelago.

Cover caption: Etched into the cottage walls of Vrederus Wild Trout, evidence of Tom Sutcliffe’s final trip to the Eastern Cape Highlands (augmented by a drone shot of the photographer’s vehicle following the same dirt roads Tom did).

Photo by Matt Kennedy

Hopper hopes as Ben Pellegrini ties one on on Zambia’s Kalungwishi River. Photo. Leonard Flemming

STREAMS BUFFERING

As we were going to print with this issue, news broke that Cape Nature in all their infinite wisdom, foresight, care and planning, had just informed the Cape Piscatorial Society (CPS), mere days before the river season opened, that they would be cancelling the MOU between the two organisations. Just like that, decades of collaborations and partnership (donations, river clean-ups, security assistance etc) to care for and manage the rivers in the Limietberg, were gone in a puff of smoke. Zero actual consultation. No negotiation. No compromise. No collaboration towards some kind of shared solution.

The main reason will no doubt be given that trout are an invasive species and they should be eradicated. As anyone familiar with these waters knows, these fish have essentially been stuck there for over a hundred yearsthey are not invading anything. They cannot take the hotter temperatures downstream and cannot move any further upstream. And eradicating them from these rivers altogether is basically impossible unless you want to poison the entire system, something I doubt Cape Nature really want to do. If Cape Nature were coming with an alternative plan to stock the area’s original indigenous species like witvis (that grow bigger than river trout in the Western Cape, and eat dries, nymphs and streamers), then I seriously doubt any angler would have a problem seeing the rivers shared by the two species, just as European rivers sport both trout and grayling. But that is not the messaging. Aloof and unavailable (it took the CPS months just to get a meeting), their vibe so far is simply, “Bye, you are out.”

All this incredibly short-sighted move will achieve, is loss, confusion and animosity. Cape Nature scientists will get a pat on the head for fulfilling their bio-diversity mandate, something they could have done in hundreds of other Western Cape streams and left these four alone. Meanwhile the thousands of people affiliated with the Cape Piscatorial Society (current members, past members, family and friends), will likely see Cape Nature in a negative light and by association the Democratic Alliance, the political

party running the Western Cape whose appointee, Anton Bredell (their environmental affairs minister), heads up Cape Nature. Jobs will die, as fly fishing guides give up and return to being OnlyFans stars, fly fishing stores will lay off staff and related hospitality businesses like lodges and hotels that cater to these areas will see revenue crater.

As for the area in question, the four rivers the CPS, its members and visiting anglers mainly frequent? They could quite easily descend into an unregulated free-for-all. No beat system, just anyone fishing wherever, whenever, with whatever. Most importantly, the voluntary monitoring of river usage by fly anglers - keeping tabs on the state of the rivers and human impacts from illegal fires, campsites, pollution and criminal behaviour (because Cape Nature sure as hell does next to nothing to police these areas themselves) - will be gone. There is literally no other group - besides aquatic scientists and the odd Mountain Club guy looking upwards - that spends as much time in or around these rivers as fly anglers.

The CPS is fighting this, but they will need help. Every fly fishing legal eagle or person with political pull needs to get involved. Phone that politician buddy, petition Cape Nature, renew your memberships of the CPS and FOSAF (more important now than ever before) and start squatting in Cape Nature and the DA’s offices. Bang pots. Speak in tongues. Soil yourself. Never leave. Whatever it takes till common sense prevails.

“BANG POTS. SPEAK IN TONGUES. SOIL YOURSELF. NEVER LEAVE. WHATEVER IT TAKES TILL COMMON SENSE PREVAILS.”

REVIVAL F Y N B O SFIS

g e t g e t c o n c o n

L SH

R e s to r i n g

R i v e r s

s a v i n g

s p e c i e s

C O N N E C T I N G

C O M M U N I T I E S

t b e h i n d t b e h i n d l o c a l f i s h l o c a l f i s h

s e r va t i o n s e r va t i o n w h e r e i t w h e r e i t

m a t t e r s m o s t m a t t e r s m o s t

c l i c k

EDITOR

Tudor Caradoc-Davies

ART DIRECTOR

Brendan Body

EDITOR AT LARGE Conrad Botes

CONTACT THE MISSION

The Mission Fly Fishing Magazine for Soutie Press (Pty) Ltd 25 Firth Road, Rondebosch, 7700, Cape Town, South Africa info@themissionflymag.com www.themissionflymag.com

CONTENT COORDINATOR Matt Kennedy

COPY EDITOR

Gillian Caradoc-Davies

MANAGING DIRECTOR

Ingrid Sinclair

ADVERTISING SALES tudor@themissionflymag.com

CONTRIBUTORS #53

Andy Killick, Juan Rossouw, Leonard Flemming, Martin Connell, Brett van Rensberg, Amy Visser, Matt Gorlei

PHOTOGRAPHERS #53

Ben Pellegrini, Leonard Flemming, Garth Wellman, Michal Čepelák, Kirtsy Killick, Alex Kennedy, Brett van Rensberg, Gavin Lawson, the late Gareth Reid, Rik De Decker, Martin Connell

Lake Cocknballs, Protea Captain Brett van Rensberg’s backyard dam in Midrand, with eight species plus pumps and jets for simulating different flows.

The walk-in is quiet. Thoughtful. Each step takes you further away from the ‘noise’ of everyday life. The rhythm of your footsteps reminds you why you’re here. Out here, solitude isn’t lonely. It’s sacred.

We’ve taken that same walk ourselves, rod in hand and thoughts miles deep. That’s why we embracethe quiet side of the frontier.

Push the boundaries of your fishing experience with the finest brands and expert advice. Shop online or visit us in-store.

CHUM

SHARE YOUR CATCH, A COMPLETE GUIDE TO FISHING THE CAYMANS, A RARE LIBRARY OF AFRICAN FISHING BOOKS, A POPPING PADDA, THE AXUM FLATS, A FISHY APP, AFRICA’S THREATENED FRESHWATER FISH AND A SANDFISH SUCCESS STORY.

A VAST COLLECTION OF…

…AFRICAN FISHING BOOKS are available for purchase from Paul Curtis of Platanna Press. An assortment of written pieces, the tally of novels, guides and textbooks covering fly fishing, fish and anglers from the 20th century to present is valued at approximately £25 000. After 50 years collecting the 435-or-so books listed, Wales-based Paul is selling his African fishing library as a whole for £15 000. “I doubt it could be collected again, no matter how deep a collector’s pockets are…” says Paul. Are you that collector? Get in touch with Paul for more information and a full description of the library. paul@platannapress.co.za

SHARE YOUR GARRICK…

…AND RECEIVE DISCOUNTS off your next Walt Gear purchase. Over the next year, local boys Walt, known for their sturdy waterproof backpacks and sun hoodies, are running an environmental activism and fishing-community outreach programme dedicated to conscientious and sustainable fish handling. Here’s the scoop: Catch a breeding-stock garrick (65cm+), video the release, tag @waltgear and use #garrickguardians + #waltgear, to receive a discount from Walt. waltgear.co.za

A COMPLETE GUIDE…

…TO THE GRAND CAYMANS courtesy of Saffa expat Richard Langford who has put in the time and is now sharing his spots. We initially heard about the tropical bonefish and tarpon fly fishing haven from Richard in The Mission Issue 44. Months later and after much intrigue from visitors abroad, Richard has successfully developed an interactive guide to the island fishery’s inshore locations, fish markers and access points. Integrated with Google Maps, the Cayman m-app is active for 30 days only after a once-off payment. caymanflyfishing.com

LEARN TO TIE…  …PLA’S GNARLY FROG in our most recent stepby-step fly tying video. The Gnarly Headz popper heads developed by Arno Laubscher of ScientificFly are possibly the most advanced popper heads in fly fishing history. Add two strips of rabbit zonker, a bunch of rubber Crazy Legs, a marabou collar and a coat of froggy colours, and you have a padda that’s ready to pop. Head to The Mission’s YouTube channel to watch the full tutorial. youtube.com/@themissionflyfishingmagazine

“LOADED

THE POWER OF FISH IDENTIFICATION…  …IN THE PALM OF YOUR HANDS, aka the Marine Fish Guide for Southern Africa app is out. Loaded with info on 249 common line fish species from 77 families, you can now ID your catch with the help of pictures, species descriptions and distribution maps, current fishing regulations, a length/ weight calculator and a catch log. At the minimal once-off cost of R200, all proceeds go towards the ORI-Cooperative Fish Tagging Project. saambr.org.za

A BUG BOX…

…FOR YOUR FLY BOX. Have you ever seen a fly tying video on social media of an epic fly pattern, but not known where to begin? This small box-o-materials can get you tying a new pattern without the thumb-sucking, doubleguessing and anxiety of walking around a fly shop with no real plan. Including enough ingredients to tie five complete patterns, without investing in vast quantities of fly tying material, Stream and Sea’s new Bug Box allows you to tie your own Muishond, MSP or Frog patterns, with tigerfish and garrick patterns coming soon. streamandsea.com

SOUTH

AFRICAN FLY FISHING ACHIEVES…

…TWO PODIUMS AND A TOP 10 FINISH in the most recent round of world fly fishing competitions. Achieving their all-time best results, the South African women’s and youth teams both finished in third place to take home bronze in Idaho 2025. Weeks before that, the men’s Protea team also achieved their all-time best, finishing ninth out of 32 countries attending the World Champs in Czech Republic. Whether it’s community, skill sharing, or just raw talent, South African fly fishing is only going one way. Later in this issue we shed light on the where, what and why of competition fly fishing, and how it’s not all about pointy shoes and green blazers. flyfishsouthafrica.co.za

A PLAN TO SAVE…

A FISHERY ON OUR MINDS…

…IS THE AXUM FLATS ON THE RED SEA. Blaede Russell, often found guiding on the Faro River in Cameroon with African Waters or sight fishing for brown trout on the chalk streams of England, is spearheading (after much exploration with his mates) a guided season in the Erythra Thalassa (which sounds like a urinary infection but is ancient Greek for “Red Sea”). Think targeting GTs, permit, triggerfish and other reef species across eight islands, each with their own characteristic sand bars, coral-fringed channels, reef drop-offs and rocky cliffs. This isn’t the “white-gloved cocktails at noon” kind of trip, rather it’s an intimate experience taking clients through a legitimate and raw saltwater adventure, to walk flats that haven’t seen pressure before and to work hard for exceptional fishing. enkarawild.com

…AFRICA’S FRESHWATER FISH has been announced. In their report on the potential extinction of one quarter of Africa’s 3 200-odd freshwater fish species, the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) has outlined the major threats that these ecosystems face and their possible remedies. The largest initiative of its kind in history, 20 countries on the continent have already joined the challenge to combat this threat to our freshwater fish, which may well be possible with “urgent and collective action” according to WWF. africa.panda.org

Wherever your passions take you, from mountain rivers to rainforest trails or city skylines, Private Client Holdings take pleasure and pride in nurturing the wealth that supports the life you love.

BTHE BEATS

Press Play

etter known as the bassist for indie-rock band Portugal. The Man, these days you’re more likely to find Zachary Scott Carothers working a different groove, guiding in Oregon with Northwest Fly Fishing Outfitters (flyshopnw.com). He serves up this issue’s epic playlist featuring pearlers from The Flaming Lips and Helmet to Manu Chao, Link Wray, Viagra Boys, The Stranglers, Bowie and more. Listen at themissionflymag.com.

You were/are probably better known as a musician, but these days you have made a name working in fly fishing as a guide. Did you take a break from the one to do the other or do you manage to do both?  I have left Portugal. The Man to be a full time fly fishing guide and instructor. I love music and I love all the people in the band, but I’ve been missing nature so much. I still play and I’m sure I’ll start another band at some point.

With Ripple Effect Outreach, you’re an advocate for mental health care through fly fishing. Run us through that. How does fly fishing help your own mental health? The music biz can be stressful as all hell. Very little time to yourself and for me, lots of drugs and alcohol. People should remember to take breaks. Especially for creatives, we never turn it off. I’m a big fan of active

rest. Fly fishing is the perfect mix of zen and frustration that really helps me disassociate in a healthy way. I was having severe mental health issues a few years ago and ended up going to rehab. I got sober there and it changed a lot of things. I knew all I needed to do was to go fishing. So we created a group for those who are in recovery. It’s been so fun to watch these people find friends and joy in the outdoors.

You’re from Alaska originally, was fly fishing a big part of your upbringing?

Fly fishing was a huge part of my childhood. I fished as long as I can remember, but I started fly fishing at seven or eight with my dad, grandpa and my uncles. Moving down to Oregon was humbling. I thought I was a really good angler. Turns out, I was just from Alaska. Ha.

Did you ever fall away from fly fishing and have to come back to it? If so, what was the catalyst for that? When we first started the band about 25 years ago, we gave up everything. We lost college degrees, girlfriends, jobs, apartments and dogs. We had no money and spent all our time touring or recording. We gave up everything. I didn’t fish much at all for ten years or so. At some point, I realized I could actually afford to buy a fly rod. I went a little crazy. At the time I had no partner and no kids. No one to get mad at me so I bought a bunch of really nice gear while I could. Started touring with rods. Would get up early and rent cars before the show and go find fish. It was amazing.

Music on the water – yay or nay?  Nay for me brother. I keep things separate. That is my time to connect with nature.

You live in a place called…Troutdale, Oregon. Does the name do what it says on the box? Describe your home waters for us. What do you get to go for?  I am blessed to live on the banks of the Sandy River. Oddly enough, there are no trout. Kinda, we have a great Steelhead run. Fantastic Coho and Chinook fishing. It’s fed from glaciers and tributaries off of Mt Hood and winds down to the mighty Columbia. A lot of times you catch nothing, but if you get something, it’s a big beautiful something.

Describe a perfect day on the water for you. I’m going to say small streams for Grayling in the interior of Alaska with my family. That’s where I cut my teeth as a young teenager. Rolling across the Denali Highway with my dad and my uncles. Camping in the tundra and having breakfast over topography maps on a brisk fall morning. That’s where I’m from and that’s where I want to end up.

THE WINE - LOMOND CONEBUSH

SINGLE VINEYARD SYRAH 2021

If you find yourself in the Western Cape any time soon, take a drive out of Cape Town, through the whale-watching hub of Hermanus, past the sleepy hamlet of Stanford on the Klein River, making your way around Walker Bay until you emerge on the other side of the working harbour town (and shark cage diving hotspot) of Gansbaai. Just before you reach the next coastal village of Pearly Beach and low-key kob spot of Uilenkraalsmond, hang a left and after a short drive into the hills you’ll find yourself at Lomond Wine Estate, situated on a dam on the Uilkraals River. Owned by Geoff McIver and Dave Mostert (who both happen to be mad-keen fly fishermen), it’s a gem of a place for a wine tasting paired with a platter of local cheeses and charcuterie (plus trout farmed in Lomond dam), but the real deal sweetener is that you between sampling the excellent chenins, sauvignon blancs, merlots and syrah, you can fish the dam for both rainbow trout and largemouth bass. As for the wine, there’s a range of stellar options, but the pick of the bunch is the Conebush Single Vineyard Syrah 2021. Expect aromas of dark berries, plums, and subtle pepper and spice, with a palate featuring ripe black fruit, chocolate, and a smooth texture. Awarded 96 points at the recent International Wine & Spirit Competition (making it the top-scoring South African Syrah), you will want to take a few cases home. lomond.co.za

“BETWEEN SAMPLING EXCELLENT WINES, YOU CAN FISH THE DAM FOR TROUT AND BASS.”

JUAN ROSSOUW

LEADING A DOUBLE LIFE USUALLY SUGGESTS SOME SORT OF DECEPTION OR INFIDELITY BUT, IN JUAN ROSSOUW’S CASE, IT’S LITERALLY THE STRUCTURE OF HIS WORLD AS HE DIVIDES HIS TIME BETWEEN GUIDING ON THE INDIAN OCEAN ATOLL OF ST BRANDON WITH FLYCASTAWAY, AND HIS HOME BASE OF NOTTINGHAM ROAD, KWAZULU-NATAL, WHERE HE RUNS HIS HUNTING DOGS AND GUIDES FOR SCALIES AND TROUT WITH WILDFLY.

Photos.

C/o Juan Rossouw, WildFly

5 best things about where you guide?

1. Getting to our Natal yellowfish (scalie) fisheries is like being in the bush. It might be a little rough and difficult at times, but every moment is a beautiful adventure and a memory made.

2. The fishery at St Brandon is simply spectacular and wildly unique.

3. The guide team. When times get rough in the middle of the Indian Ocean, it helps having good banter. And, of course, Jarred (Newell) and I love having a crack at Milan Germishuizen.

4. The chef, Hans. When we do experience a bleeder out on the water, at least we can look forward to a great dinner!

5. An ice-cold beer after a day out, regardless of whether it was a cracker day or not, is always welcome.

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

1. Patagonia Swiftcurrent jacket.

2. Fishing pliers.

3. A good attitude.

4. Fishpond backpack.

5. Water.

5 bands to listen to while on a road trip?

1. The Dead South.

2. Talking Heads.

3. Darren Kiely.

4. Gorillaz.

5. Rubber Duc.

5 things you are loving right now?

1. Notties (Nottingham Road). I am fortunate enough to call it home.

2. Throwing something other than a 9- and a 12-weight.

3. My two labradors, Gunner and Trigger, and this wingshooting game I love.

4. Winter scalies.

5. Sitting around a big fire with mates.

5 indispensable flies for saltwater?

1. The Beast Fly.

2. Milan’s Merkin.

3. Crazy Charlie.

4. Flexo white/tan.

5. Tan GT Brushie.

“BEING IN REMOTE PLACES WITH LIMITED CONTACT WITH THE OUTSIDE WORLD MAKES YOU APPRECIATE COMING HOME AND BEING

5 indispensable flies for freshwater?

1. CDC Elk Hair Caddis.

2. Olive red eye damsel.

3. Shuttlecock.

4. PTN with a CDC collar.

5. And a couple of foam frogs.

5 favourite fly fishing destinations across Africa?

1. Lesotho.

2. The Orange River.

3. The streams and rivers of the KwaZulu-Natal Midlands.

4. Sterkfontein.

5. Umzimkulu River.

5 favourite fly fishing destinations globally?

1. Saudi Arabia.

2. Oman.

3. Scotland.

4. St Brandon.

5. Okavango Delta.

5 of the best things you have picked up from guiding?

1. Patience and perseverance.

2. The knowledge that every day is going to be a learning curve, and always being willing to learn. This applies not only to casting the long rod, but to life in general.

3. To be well prepared too, because shit happens.

4. To have a sharp knife handy at all times.

5. I always said that no one would ever find me dead with Crocs on my feet. Guiding proved me wrong.

5 of the worst things you have picked up from guiding?

1. Hammered skin and feet. They take a real pounding.

2. I am way too relaxed.

3. Forgetting that 5x is most certainly not 100lb and striking too hard into trout.

4. Smoking too much but, on the plus side, I can light a smoke in most weather conditions.

5. We get spoiled being on a remote island. Then we have to deal with coming back to civilisation.

“I ALWAYS SAID THAT NO ONE WOULD EVER FIND ME DEAD WITH CROCS ON MY FEET. GUIDING PROVED ME WRONG.”

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

1. Clouser.

2. MSP.

3. Muishond.

4. PTN.

5. Flexo.

5 people you would like to guide or fish with?

1. My old man. He spent long hours introducing me to this game we love so much.

2. Flip Pallot.

3. Some really good mates.

4. Adam Sandler.

5. Ricky Gervais.

5 fish on your species hit list?

1. Tarpon.

2. Rooster.

3. Golden dorado.

4. Taimen.

5. Sea-run brown trout.

5 shower thoughts that have occurred to you while fly fishing?

1. How much longer before I have to shave my head? I refuse to do a combover.

2. Are we throwing the correct size fly?

3. What do the fish actually prefer?

4. Did I pack my sat phone?

5. Do I have enough smokes and did I bring a spare lighter?

5 of the most underrated species in your book?

1. Barbel.

2. Bass.

3. Carp.

4. Big-eye trevally.

5. Wave garrick, aka largespot pompano.

5 things (outside of the fishing) that make where you fish so special?

1. The isolation.

2. Being in remote places with limited contact with the outside world makes you appreciate coming home and being around family.

3. The people in the background putting all the blood, sweat and tears into making these relatively untouched fishing destinations a reality.

4. The beauty of St Brandon and its diverse marine life is something I’ll never get used to.

5. Epic sunsets.

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

1. Steel fabrication. I would love to have a workshop with all the toys.

2. I would enjoy being involved with some kind of conservation organisation.

3. My own wing-shooting outfit.

4. Spending more time with my family.

5. Bow hunting.

5 common mistakes that most clients make?

1. False-casting too much.

2. Not reading through the pre-trip info sheet.

3. Believing that flies that worked in Mexico will do the same here.

4. We all get it, excitement is a real thing but… slow down. The fishery isn’t going anywhere.

5. Line management.

5 destinations on your bucket list?

1. Mongolia.

2. Magdalena Bay, Mexico.

3. Iceland.

4. Bolivia.

5. Florida Keys.

5 essential ingredients for an incredible mission?

1. Enough beer.

2. A couple of good okes.

3. Ample hardwood.

4. Lekker weather.

5. Being as remote as possible.

Your last five casts were to…

1. GTs at St Brandon.

2. Triggers in Saudi.

3. Browns on the Mooi River.

4. Yellows on Sterkfontein Dam.

5. Spotted grunter in Knysna.

EASTERN CAPE

IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK

FOLLOWING IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF ACCLAIMED SOUTH AFRICAN FLY FISHING AUTHOR TOM SUTCLIFFE, MATT KENNEDY EXPLORES THE MAGIC VALLEYS OF THE EASTERN CAPE HIGHLANDS IN PURSUIT OF WILD TROUT.

Story. Matt Kennedy

Photos. Matt Kennedy, Alex Kennedy

After 40 years of service at the same company, my dad has finally retired from banking. During that time, he met my mom, played table tennis in the break room, and picked up fly fishing (all while managing many successful business projects). My parents moved to Johannesburg to raise a family. Over time, my dad collected a vast amount of fly fishing equipment, written pieces and other paraphernalia (including the works of the late Tom Sutcliffe), at the same time moving through the corporate ranks.

Like anyone facing retirement, 40 years of service coming to a head can feel like a crisis. In my dad’s case, in celebration of this sudden handbrake on life and because he didn’t want to spend his first week of retirement at home on the couch, he booked a fishing trip to the Eastern Cape Highlands.

As I’m in the infancy of my working life, I have no real experience of the challenges presented to my dad in retirement. As a 20-something-year-old with few to no responsibilities, I can invite myself to join such a trip at short notice. And that’s what I did.

Since my parents were making the trip from up north and I live in the south-west of South Africa, I flew to the halfway mark, Bloemfontein, where they fetched me. On arrival, it felt like I had climbed into a fridge, making rainy Cape Town feel tropical in comparison. Although I’d travelled these routes on family fly fishing trips for more than a decade, things felt different now that my dad had retired. Where previously his mind might not have been able to escape the burden of emails, logins and clientele, it now felt like we were both focused – fixated more than ever – on the fishing.

THE HIGHLANDS

As we made our way out of the Free State and into the Eastern Cape, the hillsides of the Maloti-Drakensberg escarpment, usually dotted with herds of cattle and sheep, had lost their green summer vibrancy. Now the landscape appeared dehydrated, down to a light brown husk. When I’d messaged local guide Fred Steynberg that I would be visiting his neck of the woods in June, his response, “You know this is our worst time for fishing, right?” wasn’t news. During the winter months, Rhodes village and the surrounding areas are humming with hunters, wing shooters and those in pursuit of a Macnab (taking a trout, an antelope and a francolin all in one day) – the type of guiding that Fred turns to when the fishing tapers off.

“YOU KNOW THIS IS OUR WORST TIME FOR FISHING, RIGHT?”

From the car we could see that the rivers were running low, slow and extremely clear. Right at the tail end of a busy fishing season, any fish that were not focused on spawning were easily spooked or otherwise extremely flywise. We wouldn’t be due in Rhodes for another week, so any preconceived fishing plans on the immaculate rivers on that side of the mountain would have to wait. Our first destination lay 60km away over the Naude’s Nek Pass at a place my family could nearly consider a second home: Vrederus Wild Trout lodge.

Owned by the Naude family, Vrederus is a working farm. Rich with generations of family history in the area, the Naudes are responsible for many hectares of land here. They are its unofficial custodians, both because of their name (being descendants of the same Naudes that built the mountain pass) and because of their prominence in the local farming community. The farm’s location and leasing rights mean that staying there makes an ideal base camp, providing access to private farmland and forestry areas where there are productive trout streams and stillwaters. On a good day, this really is the kind of place where you can catch wild trout from 8 inches up to 8 pounds on the same day, all within a few kilometres of each other.

Vrederus itself has a large but uniquely shallow lake with healthy aquatic habitat and resident stocked trout. The ideally located cottage, being all of 50 metres from this vast lake, meant that it didn’t take much to figure out the gist of this year’s fishing pretty fast. With my brand-new Horizon Nitro 6-weight, I strapped on an intermediate line and heavy beadhead zonker and got to work. Although my dad enjoys a classic floating line, long leader and lightweight nymphs, my approach is less regimented and rule-bound, which proved worthwhile.

Bombing out casts and stripping the fly back, aggressive cock fish would hammer the long zonker tail several times before a strip set, making for exciting streamer fishing. Either it was a numbers thing or due to winter spawning instincts, but it seemed like the females weren’t focused on feeding. Only a dead-drifted jig bugger or a small hotspot nymph would entice an egg-laden hen to eat. Although we soon established that a short walk to the nearby corner of the dam wall would always be productive, it became predictable. Instead, we spent the remainder of our time exploring. We waded all edges and bays around the shallow dam, working our way through the sludgy clay in stealth mode, catching fish no matter the time of day or weather conditions.

Thirty minutes away from Vrederus, tucked between hills and barbed-wire fences and barely visible from the main forestry road, there’s an unnamed stream that is dammed by a series of small ponds. From a vantage point we could make out the dams’ weed bed structure well, where drop offs of more than two metres deep act as highways for patrolling fish. The modus here changed completely. My big zonker beadheads were ignored entirely, while

size 16 brown, non-descript dead-drifted Gold-Ribbed Hare’s Ears did the job. Where my run-and-gun attractor techniques had failed, Dad’s slow and steady imitator methods were once again paying off.

Who knows when last this water was stocked, but the fish are big and only big – tank-like for South African river water. In Tom Sutcliffe’s Shadows on the Stream Bed, he refers to these same “lakes”. During his excursions some years ago, the dams contained both brown and rainbow trout. Clearly, someone’s been planting fish here for a while. The rainbows that we found were hens with

bellies and males with kypes of prehistoric proportions. Although I want to stray from explaining why these fish might be bigger (more oxygen, more food or perhaps dissolved-quartz-in-the-water juju), what can’t be ignored is the quality of prey unlike any other trout-stocked stillwater I’ve seen. Gillemienkies (minnows) flounder in the shallows, tadpoles fill the stagnant water and, on one occasion, a caught and netted rainbow regurgitated three whole platannas (African clawed frogs) each the size of my palm. With food like this on the menu, it’s easy to understand why the fish might grow so big, but it’s headscratching to think why they only ate smaller flies.

“THE TROUT ON EITHER SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN HAVE BEEN GEOGRAPHICALLY – AND THUS GENETICALLY –ISOLATED.”

THE SWITH

The rivers that flow southward, past the Vrederus area towards Maclear, are separated from the rivers of Rhodes by the spine of a mountain. It’s a perfect example of a watershed, where although two river sources are close in proximity, their directions of flow are completely opposite. Previously, Rhodes resident and guide Tony Kietzman mentioned that he reckons there’s a macro-evolution going on with the trout in these separated river systems. Since their stocking about 100 years ago, the trout on either side of the mountain have been geographically – and thus genetically – isolated. Possibly through variation, fish in one river can have different colours, markings and anatomies when compared with those in other rivers.

On the Vrederus side of the pass, ice melts off the southfacing rocks of the mountain. These trickles flow into the upper tributaries and through valleys where nomadic San tribes used to wander, evident from the dotted petroglyph panels hidden in kloofs throughout the area. These valleys eventually feed the Tsitsa River system, deluging down a waterfall and flowing into the Mzimvubu River, seawards towards Port St Johns.

It was 13 years ago, as a pre-teen, when I caught my first river rainbow trout on a dry fly on such a piece of water: the Swith River. Although there must have been some fly fishing fanatic that stocked this small river with trout at some point in the last century, it was Tom in Shadows on the Stream Bed who claimed he and his buddy Ed Herbst must have been the first people “in anyone’s memory” to fish the Swith. Or at least, in Tom’s words, “if not discovered, then perhaps rediscovered.” Like many others before me, I always get that feeling when fishing the Eastern Cape montane streams.

Back to this trip where we were making our way upstream along the cattle-trodden track that runs parallel to the river. Like Tom, I couldn’t help wondering when last someone was down here. If anyone came here, it would have been a select few that Juan-Marie of Vrederus had allowed. It was almost as if any given overturned rock might have been kicked by Tom himself, a footstep above the high-water line where the fossilised tread was from Tom’s boot, or a broken branch might be where he yanked out an entangled RAB 15 years ago, Ed chuckling at his misfortune in the background.

This river is a typical high mountain stream. It’s small and has varying habitat types where trout could hold, feed and thrive. In the section we fished, near to what Ed refers to as the “Magic Valley”, tall rocky outcrops mark the bends in the river as it picks up speed, flowing down towards the escarpment. In the doldrums of this crisp winter and days before a proper cold front was due, there were no fish to be found. None in the rapids or the runs, none in the slowmoving glides or back eddies. Eventually, in a particularly deep pool beneath an overhanging willow, a long drift sent a mended tungsten jig nymph deep enough to where the fish were congregating. This turned out to be the method to catch for the rest of the day.

These “wild” (as in “free-spawning”) trout are strong, where a 16-incher might fight like a 2kg stockie on a good day. Although I had found a recipe for success, my dad’s distaste for “new-fangled” tungsten bead jig hook nymphs meant he refused to indulge or enjoy. “I don’t like the plop,” he said. My irritation and impatience at his stubbornness to try new tricks was short-lived when, ultimately, he proved his methods could work just as well, catching trout a few pools above me on his lightweight Zak nymphs.

Sitting on a rock to watch him work the Zak, I wondered what these valleys must have witnessed in a geographical blink of an eye 100 years ago. The Naudes’ ancestors were cutting away at the mountain with picks and shovels during a war to build a mountain pass. Two thousand years ago, Koi nomads were following herds of wild eland through the countryside, their minds free from the fly angler’s arbitrary torment of Oncorhynchus vs Salmo and dry vs wet flies.

“TALL ROCKY OUTCROPS MARK THE BENDS IN THE RIVER AS IT PICKS UP SPEED, FLOWING DOWN TOWARDS THE ESCARPMENT.”

KAPOK

The first nasty cold front of the year was pulling in fast as we rumbled through Maclear (now Nqanqarhu) and, with predictions of snowpack up to 80cm (out of this world for South Africans living in a semi-arid climate), we stocked up on the finest whisky that a small country town’s TOPS could provide. When the first precipitation started to fall, it was like bits of cotton were being plucked from the heavens and showered down. “Kapok” they call it – in English and in Afrikaans – as in snow that resembles a cotton ball. Unlike the unique hexagon patterns of normal snowflakes, kapok falls like clumps of loose fluffy ice.

The Eastern Cape Highlands is a shoulder-season kind of place. At this time of year, in the middle of winter, I doubt that the fish disappear entirely. They might just have other priorities, like spawning. River fish aren’t in the runs and there are no evening stillwater hatches. Although inclement weather at any time of year can slow the fishing down, in our case heavy snowfall prevented travel and blew out the rivers, slamming the brakes on any fishing for the remainder of our stay.

Snow is exciting for the first day or two. The feeling of experiencing a fairy tale, the snowballs, the snow men, the ability to cool your beer in a pile of snow… but, after the novelty wears off, it’s just cold, the roads are a mess, and the fishing is unbearable. With no option but to hunker down, drink single malt and tie flies, it was the thick stone walls, recently graffitied with Tom’s signature trout on his last trip here in 2022, and the fireplace at our farmhouse venue that kept the cold at bay until it was time for us to go.

Sixty kilometres away on the other side of the mountain, Rhodes – our next destination – had received, according to Tony, a “record high snowfall”, certainly the most he had ever seen. This forced us to take a five-hour detour. The small town was unrecognisable compared to what we’d seen a week earlier. Broken trees and fallen branches lined the dirt streets, ice and mud pockets forced strange patterns in tyre tracks and, due to damaged utilities, the houses were without electricity or cell service.

“AT THIS TIME OF YEAR, IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER, I DOUBT THAT THE FISH DISAPPEAR ENTIRELY. THEY MIGHT JUST HAVE OTHER PRIORITIES, LIKE SPAWNING.”

“‘WHAT’S FISHING WELL AT THE MOMENT, DAVE?’

‘A FLY ON THE WATER,’ HE REPLIED.”

We couldn’t go anywhere. The roads were wrecked, frozen and muddy, and rivers were blown out from snow melt. In an attempt to get some fishing done, I explored the free beat section of the Bell River that flows within walking distance of the town. Layered- and wadered-up, trudging through the snow, it felt like I was prepping to swing flies at steelhead on the Skeena in Canada. That evening, fishless, cold and needing the warmth of a liquid blanket at Walkerbouts Inn, I asked the owner Dave Walker for some advice. Dave has the wisdom of an old

tree and he sees wide-eyed goofs like me coming from a mile away.

“What’s fishing well at the moment Dave?” I asked. “A fly on the water,” he replied.

Dave is selling his hotel voetstoots, including the two original Tom Sutcliffe graffiti artworks, marked into the walls and framed retrospectively. Apparently, that made the difference between market value and the asking price

and, now that Tom has died, who knows where the value truly stands?

When Dave heard Tony’s remark about the record snowfall, he replied, “Well, Tony has only been here 15 years,” as though that wasn’t long enough to make any claim about a place’s history. Dave had a point, but I wondered what the Swith River might say about the area’s legacy. “Dave is only 75 years old, what does he know? I’ve been here for thousands of years.”

WHEN IN THE EASTERN CAPE HIGHLANDS

STAY – Vrederus Wild Trout

Halfway between the highland towns of Rhodes and Maclear, this lodge has three stone cottages sleeping up to 18 people in total. Private access to a number of stillwaters and wild trout streams makes Vrederus an ideal basecamp and a peaceful farm stay. vrederus.co.za

EAT AND DRINK – Walkerbouts Inn

If you find yourself in the town of Rhodes, Walkerbouts Inn is a short walk to the back of town, where a greybearded man resembling Santa Claus (Dave Walker) will offer you beer, wine, lamb roast and fine company. Forget trying to take home the soap, if you like the place you can buy it, Sutcliffe artworks included. walkerbouts.co.za

SHOP THE MISSION

Horizon - 1-weight LLS, 3-weight TFS, 6-weight Nitro. frontierflyfishing.com

Simms - Flyweight boots with studs. simmsfishing.com, frontierflyfishing.com

Thule – Force XT Large Roof Box thule.com, sportandcargo.co.za

The Mission – Cthulhu Ripstop Snapback. themissionflymag.com

Horizon – Guide Breathable Zip Waders. frontierflyfishing.com

Simms – Freestone Half-Finger Glove. simmsfishing.com, frontierflyfishing.com

EXCLUSIVE HEATHENS

SKILLED

DIFFERENT WINNERS CHAMPS

MACHINES

INSUFFERABLE

LEGENDS

DIFFERENT STROKES

CELEBRATED AND RESPECTED IN OTHER COUNTRIES, COMPETITION FLY FISHING DOES NOT ALWAYS GET THE SAME LEVEL OF LOVE IN SOUTH AFRICA. WE CHAT TO SOME OF ITS STARS AND LOOK INTO A FEW OF THE CRITICISMS TO SEE IF THIS IS JUST STANDARD BOGORDINARY TRIBALISM OR SOMETHING ELSE.

ARROGANT GURUS

LOSERS

Words Tudor Caradoc-Davies Photos. Matt Gorlei, Michal Čepelák, Brett van Rensberg, Amy Bo Visser

The first and only time I ever considered taking up competition fly fishing, was when the former secretary of the Cape Piscatorial Society, Louis de Jager, asked me if I wanted to represent the Boland B team. Vladimir Putin had recently made washed-up action star and dictator dick-gobbler, Steven Seagal, a Russian citizen on a whim. Somewhat nonsensically it occurred to me that if Louis, who ran what was then Boland Fly Fishing Association (now known as Cape Winelands Fly Fishing Association) could do the same, then perhaps I was going to have B grade movie talent on the streams. I was tempted to do it both for the lark and because my nymphing game is decidedly average. This could have been a chance to improve.

Ultimately, I passed on the opportunity for two reasons. I was short on time and comp fishing just did not really speak to me. I am not alone on that front. Mention comp fishing in fly fishing circles in South Africa and the reactions are varied:

Purists roll their eyes at euro nymphing or catching small fish mid-air in a net and say, “that’s not fly fishing.” The solitary DIY guys snort at the idea of fishing as a team and the whole “joining” vibe of comp fishing - the blazers and ties, the thought of team photos and the endless WhatsApp groups. Big fish guys laugh at the idea of counting tiny trout, then (in their minds at least) re-arrange their massive knobs and check the forecast. The ‘fly fishing is meditation not sport’ guys turn to speak to the north wind for guidance.

Of all the niches or sub-sects of fly fishing, I’d struggle to think of any that come close to competition fly fishing when it comes to the amount of flack, disdain and general mudslinging they get (shout out to tenkara for an honourable mention!).

To get to grips with the judgements, preconceptions and myths around competition fly fishing, I roped in Matt Gorlei. Matt, to use vampire or ginger parlance, is a daywalker. He’s a perfectly normal, personable human being who happens to be a comp angler too. Most people discover comp fishing later on in their fly fishing journey. Not Matt. With his father Richard a Masters World Champ and his mother Linda a highly rated comp angler too, Matt was brought up in this scene. Was there a plushy squirmy wormy in his cot and a mobile made of Euro nymphs? Probably. Let’s just say, he was to the manner born.

What follows is a series of criticisms of comp fishing that I have heard (or believed myself) over the years, followed by a rebuttal from Matt and a secondary verdict from yours truly. Of course, just as much as Matt does not represent all comp anglers, nor do I represent all fly anglers either. So, take all shots fired and parried from whence they come (and with a pinch of salt).

CRITICISM: THEIR VERY EXISTENCE IS A VIOLATION OF THE SACRED PURITY OF FLY FISHING AS DECREED IN THE MIDDLE AGES BY YE OLDE KEEPERS OF THE FLY

The gist: To many non-comp people, making fly fishing competitive seems to take what is a super-chilled way to spend a day in nature and turn it into something else, something too much like the rest of our lives - measured, adjudicated, ranked. Like getting your colours for meditation, we have to ask, why would you?

Matt: I’ll admit, competition fishing is not done to relax, but to see how effectively you can read the water, adapt your tactics, and get those fish to take your flies. It’s a test of skill, preparation, and adaptability. The fish are measured, length counts, not weight - and at the end of each session, your tally becomes part of a bigger picture that ranks you and your team against every other angler. It’s not about who catches the biggest fish, it is who consistently catches the most fish across different sections of water and changing conditions. Of course, the random draw of beats adds a wild card, in a way this is part of what makes competition fly fishing such a mental test. You might land on a piece of water that’s tough, or one that’s stacked with fish. That’s part of the beauty of it - nature always has the final say. But the best anglers consistently find a way to adapt, to work the water in front of them and find fish even in tough beats. The reasons people fish competitively vary across the whole comp community: some just enjoy the energy and rush of a competition, they find purpose in the task; others are motivated by the people around them and the chance to fish alongside experience anglers, to grow as a fisherman and learn. For many it’s about the camaraderie, the teamwork, the problem-solving, and the honour of representing yourself, your family, your province, or your country in something you love doing.

It’s not for everyone - I am fully aware that fly fishing is more than a competition to most people. The reasons people fish differ, and to be honest, I don’t believe that those who fly fish competitively do it only to compete. That’s short-sighted. They fish for the same reasons many others do - just with a drive of competition, motivation to be good and a sporty attitude on the agenda.

Verdict:

Unjustified.

Competitive people are everywhere and like any sport, you get them all over fly fishing too. We’re not just talking about competition fly fishing. Take the angler who keeps track of what their fishing partners caught; the sad sack who feels a bit bleak they did not catch as many fish as their friends; or the weirdo who goes to an Indian Ocean atoll and brings back sand so they can make better crab flies for their next trip, catch more fish and climb ever higher in the general pantheon of saltwater fly fishing gods. While formal competition is not for everyone, competitiveness is everywhere. What do you care if some people prefer to experience fly fishing in that way?

“THEY FISH FOR THE SAME REASONS MANY OTHERS DO - JUST WITH A DRIVE OF COMPETITION, MOTIVATION TO BE GOOD AND A SPORTY ATTITUDE ON THE AGENDA.”

CRITICISM: BUT YER HONOUR! WHAT THEY DO - IT’S NOT FLY FISHING!

The gist: Because a lot of comp fishing focuses on euro nymphing - where very little actual fly line is used when anglers lob a nymph or team of nymphs instead of casting in a traditional manner - it is dismissed as “not fly fishing”.

Matt: I have been told to my face that euro nymphing is not fly fishing, and when I asked why; the reason was that there is no skill involved in “chucking nymphs”. That is a very uneducated opinion. To describe the level of precision and skill required to present a nymph at 30-35foot range, using a micro leader, 8x tippet and a 2-weight rod, with no more than a 2.5mm tungsten bead on a size 18 light wire barbless hook, imitating a trout’s food source in turbulent, fast, and uneven flow, to a fish that’s 40cm in length and actively feeding in a narrow subsurface lane in gin-clear trout water - it is nothing short of technical mastery. It requires spatial awareness, an understanding of water dynamics, delicate rig control, fly design knowledge, and near-invisible execution. To call that “not fly fishing” is to misunderstand the evolution of the craft itself. In my opinion there is more skill in technical euro nymphing than the so-called ‘purist’ form of dry fly fishing. That’s not a dig; it’s just an observation from someone who does both. It’s not like I’m saying we’re better because we Euro nymph. But because we’re open to the application of it, we give ourselves a chance. A chance to adapt, to evolve, to meet the fish where they are and fish with purpose, precision, and intent. We’re not obsessed with staying in one lane just because tradition says so, we’re obsessed with getting better, evolving and improving. That’s the essence of growth in any pursuit, isn’t it? The moment you close yourself off to something because it doesn’t look like what you’re used to, you stop learning. Fly fishing, at its core, is problem-solving. It’s figuring out how to fool a fish, in the conditions that are in front of you, with the tools you have - or the ones you’re willing to learn. Euro Nymphing is one of the sharpest, most refined techniques in the modern fly angler’s toolkit, spend time with a top competitive angler and you will understand.

Verdict: Unjustified. This is a weird one. While we will acknowledge that euro nymphing feels very awkward at first to a meat and potatoes fly angler accustomed to casting, we don’t like the idea of anyone claiming some sort of elevated status as a purist and policing what fly fishing is or isn’t. All that does is shut doors and, if applied evenly, would mean that a vast array of ‘newer’ techniques and species - basically all saltwater fly fishing, carp, the use of synthetics in fly tying etc - would be seen as verboten by some grumpy, officious sod. We’d like to think fly fishing has moved on from the arbitrary ancient Halford vs Skues tribalism. Perhaps it’s best to think of fly fishing as a spectrum. Some (traditionalists) like to stay very close to what was done in the past. Others (comp anglers) like to try new things to find an edge. Most of us are in the middle. As long as what is done is environmentally and ethically sound, we’re fine with it. Bonus points if it catches fish and is interesting.

CRITICISM: THEY MAKE UP RULES FOR GOING FLY FISHING! WHAT NEXT? RULES FOR DOG WALKING AND BIRDING?

The gist: Following on from the previous criticism about what does or does not count as fly fishing, this feels hypocritical, but...it feels weird applying so many rules to a day out fly fishing.

Matt: FIPS Mouche, the governing body of world fly fishing, who sets the rules, has a huge environmental responsibility. The rules of the sport encourage this- such as using single barbless hooks, effective catch and release requirements for fish to count, minimal handling of fish out of the water, and leader and fly requirements like the distance between flies, size of hooks and beads. All of these considerations are with the well-being of the fish and environmental responsibility in mind. Even the controversial conversation about the way a fish is netted in competitions has recently been modified in the rules to ensure that the net is in contact with the water at the time of netting to alleviate any attempts to flick fish above the waist into the net. Evolution, this is good for the sport - it educates not only competitive fishermen but everyone who engages with a comp angler, as these rules naturally become an everyday aspect in a comp angler’s fishing outside of competitions. These rules will hopefully relay back down into social fishing circles, clubs, and all those individuals who should also consider their environmental responsibilities as a fly fisherman.

Verdict: Unjustified. Every non-comp angler already has a set of their own self-determined rules that they fish by. E.g. catch and release, barbless hooks, fishing an appropriate weight rig for the size of fish targeted, only resorting to nymphs when dries don’t work or streamers when nymphs come up blank, turning to the fish whistle by 11am to turn the gods in your favour, banning bananas from boats etc, etc, etc. Many of these rules actually got passed on to us by comp fishing, so we are already comp-influenced. The main difference is that comp anglers publish and update their rules via FIPS. If they want to fish by the literal book, so be it.

CRITICISM: COMP FISHING SUCKS BECAUSE COMP ANGLERS HAVE GIANT EGOS AND RATE THEMSELVES BECAUSE THEY CATCH LOTS OF SMALL TROUT.

The gist: From time to time, some comp anglers have come across as A) exclusionary and/or B) extremely arrogant, ostensibly because they are good at catching many small trout. For other fly anglers, less obsessed with either numbers or trout, it can seem like a weird flex.

Matt: The people who currently represent competitive fly fishing in South Africa are moving the sport forwards. They’re bringing people, techniques, ideas, and products into our industry that add value and drive growth. Let’s talk about inclusion: if you look at the demographics of fly fishing clubs and associations outside of competition, then look at the demographics of competition, you’ll see a clear difference. I’m not saying that competition fishing is doing everything right - but it has done a lot to develop interest in the sport beyond the traditional demographics.

“THE MOMENT YOU CLOSE YOURSELF OFF TO SOMETHING BECAUSE IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE WHAT YOU’RE USED TO, YOU STOP LEARNING.”

Consider this: competition fishing has a youth division. We see 70–80 youngsters compete at national championships, with fresh faces coming in every year. This involves people in the provincial bodies, volunteering their time to help youngsters thrive in this sport. It’s not youth driving youth, it’s competitive anglers who are passionate about it driving interest and development at youth level, people committing time and money to ignite passion into the future of the industry. There’s a ladies division, growing each year with multiple events locally and internationally. Fly fishing is a unique sport that doesn’t require specific strength or physiques, we have a very good chance of a national champion in the open division that could be a woman; this is unique for competitive sport in general and it’s not far-fetched. Again, here we see women inspiring women, comp anglers giving up their time to teach, train and develop a demographic that traditionally gets left at home for fishing trips. We’ve also seen real effort in the competition circles to build diversity - projects to develop the sport in areas and communities that haven’t traditionally seen fishing as a sport. Now, there is by no means enough effort being made in the diversity front, there is no actual diversity in our sport (competitive or non-competitive), but this is a deeper layered and complex topic, which should not be connected to whether the sport is competitive or not.

Verdict: Unjustified. By virtue of the fact that they are organised and super-active, the comp community arguably does more than any other fly fishing subcommunity to grow the sport. As for egos and arrogance, yes there will always be egos when people think they are exceptionally good at something. But we have seen giant egos among fly anglers who are not into the comp scene too. It’s not comp specific - poephols are gonna poephol. Comp fishing has made a massive effort over the last few years to bring more people into the sport. As for the small fish thing. Ja well, if every fish counts towards a score, then focusing on that is always going to be important to comp guys. Still...sprinting to have a marshal measure a tiddler will never not seem lame from the outside.

CRITICISM: THEY STUFF UP MY HOME WATERS ‘YER HONOUR WITH PRESSURE!

The gist: When a competition rolls into town, they take over local rivers and stillwaters. The main complaint is less about sharing the water with comp anglers, but rather the pressure it puts on the fish, having teams of highly skilled fish catchers working the water day in day out vs the lighter pressure brought by a few stoned varsity students and a couple of unfit 9-5ers alternating every odd day.

Matt: It is fair to be concerned, I’ve heard people say things like, “After a comp, the fish disappear,” or “You guys ruin that stretch for weeks.” And honestly, sometimes they’re not completely wrong. Fish that get caught a few times get harder to fool. The better the anglers, the more often this happens- and over time, that plays a kind of microevolutionary role. Fish wise up. Is that such a bad thing? Maybe they feed a bit more cautiously and grow slower,

but they’re survivalists. They will eat. From a competition perspective that’s part of it. Fish that are pressured are the best teachers. You can force them to eat, you have to change, think harder, present better, go smaller, read the micro currents, adjust your weight, change your angle. You learn so much more from a tough session on pressured water than ten sessions on easy untouched stretches of river. That’s not a justification, its perspective. At the same time, I’m not wanting to brush off concerns. Fish pressure is real, especially on smaller systems and fragile flows where the fish have less space to move and reset. Some fisheries do not bounce back as quickly, and it’s something competition organisers and all anglers need to acknowledge, manage and plan for. Pressure is pressure, whether it’s from a group of weekenders hammering a pool all day with strike indicators or a group of seasoned competition anglers drifting through on 3 hour competition beat rotations, it has an effect. But competition fishing has something that a lot of casual fishing doesn’t: structure, rules, restrictions, accountability. We don’t fish past time, we release all fish, we use barbless hooks, we fight fish fast to release them fast, we have a controller who makes judgment on our integrity.

Verdict: Justified. This one’s is a little hard to refute. It is likely less of a problem in a province like the Eastern Cape or KwaZulu-Natal with their vast spread of waters, whereas the Western Cape only has a few well-known trout rivers that see enough pressure already. While there is something satisfying about catching highly educated (aka pressured) fish, most of us prefer fishing and fisheries that are moderately challenging. It does suck if fish in your local river switch off due to a comp.

THE BOTTOM LINE

Matt: At the end of the day, we all fish because we love it. We’re still casting flies, reading water, respecting fish, and connecting with something that’s bigger than ourselves. Whether you’re doing that in silence on a remote stream or with a stopwatch ticking and a controller watching, the heart of it doesn’t change. The river doesn’t care if you’ve got a comp bib or a tweed vest. But if we’re serious about the future of this sport - its people, its fish, its waters - we have to be serious about evolving, learning, and sharing it better. That’s what competition has taught me.

Tudor: While it triggers more opinions than it should, comp fishing does much more good than harm. I see it now more as a zealous new church on a recruitment drive, while other crowds in fly fishing are more like secret sects and cults. Even if it grates your carrot, chances are you already adopt comp-spawned approaches and techniques.

I think if Louis ever comes calling again, I might actually boot up for that B team. What’s the worst that can happen? That I will upskill so that one day when facing a tricky monster of a fish that needs a nymph presented in a highly technical way, I’ll be able to do it? Sounds like time well spent. Just don’t ask me to wear a tie or add me to all the WhatsApp groups.

“COMP

FISHING ISN’T JUST ABOUT INTENSITY OR CHASING NUMBERSTHERE’S ENJOYMENT IN A PERFECT DRIFT, LEARNING A NEW KNOT, UNDERSTANDING FISH BEHAVIOUR.”

COMPETITIVE CAREERS

Off the back of comp fly fishing, plenty of South African fly anglers have managed to make a livelihood in fly fishing. We cherry pick a few examples.

Dan Factor

For many years the no.1 ranked men’s fly angler in South Africa, Dan initially worked for Stealth Fly Fishing, before going on his own with X-Factor Fly Fishing, an online shop that became a bricks-and-mortar store in Johannesburg. These days, Dan, who is as Joburg a boet as ever a boet from Joburg boeted, represents the Western Province team, 1400km away. It’s weird, like when an Ethiopian marathon runner suddenly starts representing Qatar at the Olympics. When we asked around about Dan’s switch in provincial allegiance, we were told that it’s because Western Province dominates the provincial comp scene. Dan traded provinces in order to be pushed more by his elite teammates in the WP team. We like to think it’s because he secretly supports the Stormers too.

Robert van Rensburg

Long before The Groot Tsek saw the Trump regime welcome certain Seffricans migrants to the USA, guide Robert van Rensburg (who was instrumental in the early days of competition fly fishing in South Africa) moved to the USA. Just like Melania, he got into the country on a special skills VISA, except his was for fly fishing. Van Rensburg subsequently built a career as a guide in West Yellowstone.

Trevor Sithole

The shining success story of the Thendela Fly Fishing initiative, after finding success in comp fishing Trevor Sithole worked as a guide in the Midlands with WildFly. He then travelled to places like Bolivia to fish for golden dorado, then went to work for Alphonse Fishing Company/ Blue Safari where he is today, guiding clients in the best saltwater destinations on the planet.

“DAN TRADED PROVINCES IN ORDER TO BE PUSHED MORE BY HIS ELITE TEAMMATES IN THE WP TEAM.”

“WP, JOU LEKKER DING!”

Official FIPS-mouche photographer Michal Čepelák

PROTEA MEN’S CAPTAIN BRETT VAN RENSBURG

Think you are obsessed with fly fishing? Brett van Rensburg built a dam in his garden in Midrand to practice in. Not only does it have brown and rainbow trout, but also five indigenous species (largemouth yellows, smallmouth yellows, small and largescale yellows, and mudfish), plus Mozambique tilapia for bait fish. To top it off, while over a million litres of water a day is circulated through the dam, he also built a small river section with changeable pumps and jets to simulate different river conditions. Used for his own daily post-work practice, it’s also an important aspect of Brett’s Gauteng provincial team and community.

Explain competition fly fishing – How does it work? Simply put, you’re given a piece of water to fish for a period of time. The idea is the person who catches the most fish off that piece of water would win that session. Fish size can also play into it but typically the individual who catches the most fish is going to win the session. During a competition, anglers rotate through different sectors so that you’re not fishing the same piece of water. A typical South African provincial trial would probably be made up of three sessions. A group of 10 anglers would rotate fishing in an upper river section, a lower river section, and then a stillwater, testing all your skills. In each session you’re trying to catch as many fish as possible so that you can place as high up in that group as possible. If you place first in your group, then you only carry one point. If you place 10th in your group, you carry 10 points. At the end of the competition, after all three sectors have been rotated through, the person with the least points wins. Throughout competitions over the year, those points add up to give you a national ranking. After every session, the leaderboard changes, so you’re continuously tracking who’s ahead of who and the medals being earned. If you look at a South African national event (inter-provincial), the team medals are always the more sought-after medals, because an individual can get a very good beat draw and win a competition, even though they might not necessarily be the best angler there. However, even if you get a handful of bad beats over three or five sessions, the top anglers tend to find their way to the top. At a team competition, it’s fairer because you have five anglers fishing five beats each, so over 25 beats fished it tends to even out very nicely.

How much of a factor is fly tying in comp fishing?

At National Championships, there’s a fly tying competition every year to test skills and make sure that an angler’s fly tying is evolving with their fly fishing skills. If you look locally and internationally, the venues that you fish are typically very remote – and there are no fly shops near you. When you get on the water for your training days and your practice, you start to pick up techniques and flies that are working really well - different bead sizes or colours. If you don’t have those flies to match any situation in your box, you’re screwed. You need to be able to tie them up at the venue. So having the ability to tie a complete assortment of stillwater and river flies is critical.

At the recent world champs there were three or four patterns that were very unusual that we had to tie up on the spot. Obviously, I also carry my favourites, and the flies I have a lot of confidence in too, so it’s situational. On the rivers I’m probably carrying about 1,500 flies in my chest pack – variations of Pheasant Tails, GHREs, Hotspots, Tags, Blow Torches etc, sizing everything from size 22 all the way through to size 12, and then typically an assortment of eight dry fly patterns.

How has comp fishing itself evolved over the years? 15 years ago, at World Championships, it was probably more sort of semi amateur whereas now it’s very professional. You have a lot of full-time anglers fishing world champs and making careers in the fly fishing world. Today there’s a lot of planning, strategy, training and fly

“15 YEARS AGO, AT WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS, IT WAS PROBABLY MORE SORT OF SEMI AMATEUR WHEREAS NOW IT’S VERY PROFESSIONAL.”

tying that goes into it, whereas I think 15 years ago you probably just had some good anglers from good countries that went through a less rigorous selection process, got into teams and went and fished. A decade ago, there were maybe four countries that could compete. Now we had 33 countries at Worlds, 20 of them with anglers that have abilities to compete closely. If you look at the sessions, the difference between a 15th place finish and a fifth place finish can often be one fish or, or just a couple of centimetres. Our big advantage as Saffas is that we’re gutsy anglers. We’re fit, slightly younger, our work rate on the water is very, very high. The more experience that the same anglers get overseas, the smaller the gap to the European teams gets each year.

Read the full interview with Brett at themissionflymag.com

AMY BO VISSER, PROTEA LADIES FLY FISHING

CO-ORDINATOR

One of the rising stars of the fast-growing ladies division, Amy Bo Visser is the no.2 ranked women’s angler in South Africa and at the recent world champs in the USA, she was the highest placed South African.

How did you get into fishing? What are your local waters?

I started out in estuaries during family holidays and at trout farms around Gauteng whenever I had the chance. It was at these spots that friendly anglers introduced me to fly fishing - and it stuck! About six or seven years ago, a family friend invited me to join a ladies’ team for a fly fishing event. That was my first taste of competitive fly fishing, and I’ve been hooked ever since. I’ve been fortunate to compete in seven Ladies Nationals, three Senior Nationals, one Commonwealth Championship, and three Ladies World Championships. Our best team result came recently in the USA in 2025, where we earned a bronze medal - and I was thrilled to place 6th individually.

Are you always fishing with comp fishing in mind?

Fly fishing is a big part of my life, and I’m grateful for the time I get to spend on the water. Whether I’m training with focus, enjoying a relaxed session with friends, or teaching others, it’s all about enjoyment for me. I especially love sharing what I’ve learned and helping others grow. Competitive fly fishing isn’t just about intensity or chasing numbers - there’s enjoyment in a perfect drift, learning a new knot, understanding fish behaviour, or spending quiet time behind the fly-tying vice.

Are there any barriers to entry to fly fishing that impact women more than they do men?

Such a good question! I believe so. In South Africa, it can be quite challenging to go fishing alone - especially as a woman - which can be limiting. On top of that, balancing family life, work, kids, and fishing is no small task. That said, some of our most passionate and inspiring lady anglers fish as a family, with everyone getting involved - and that’s amazing to see! Of course, like many others, we also face the usual barriers of time and cost. But despite these challenges, the community continues to grow and thrive. Read the full interview with Amy at themissionflymag.com

“FLY FISHING IS A BIG PART OF MY LIFE, AND I’M GRATEFUL FOR THE TIME I GET TO SPEND ON THE WATER.”

shiltonreels.com | sales@shiltonreels.com

sales@shiltonreels.com www.shiltonreels.com

ZAMBIA

THE GHOST AND THE DARKNESS

RAFTING DOWN THE KALUNGWISHI RIVER IN NORTHERN ZAMBIA IN SEARCH OF BLUE YELLOWFISH, LEONARD FLEMMING LEARNED ABOUT THE THREATS LURKING IN THIS STUNNING RIVER BUT ALSO THE EXISTENTIAL ONES THIS FISHERY IS FACING.WW

Photos. Leonard Flemming, Ben Pellegrini, Garth Wellman

Thunder!

We see lightning before we hear thunder, because light travels faster than sound. But when Garth Wellman, Ben Pellegrini, George Bell of Rivers and Dust Safaris and I arrived on the forested riverbanks of the mighty Kalungwishi River in northern Zambia at the end of May 2025, it felt like it was the other way around. We could hear thunder without the lightning.

The thunderous roar of the waterfalls on this part of the Kalungwishi even drowned out both the booming rhythms of “Zed” (a compilation of Zambian gospel pop music, the preferred listening of local driver, Charles) and the metallic racket coming from the 4x4’s suspension as we rumbled forward to base camp. We arrived to see mist-filled air filtering through the trees on the edge of our riverside campsite, giving an ethereal atmosphere to the spot in the dim, evening light.

A waterfall sent clouds of fine water droplets into the sky, the rolling mist rising so high at times that it looked like towering cumulonimbus. While admiring the view and power of this impressive river, we stood in awe, peering over the edge where a waterfall plunged down into an ominous-looking pool 30m below. All we could make out

through the mist and shade was this large, dark “hole” of unknown depth and the first question that sprung to mind was what lay below the surface of the water. During the Age of Discovery, explorers, mariners and cartographers would label unknown dangerous areas on maps with phrases like “Here be dragons” out of fear, ignorance or an inability to explain what they had seen. Looking into this abyss while standing on a cliff in a rainforest that time and civilisation seemed to have bypassed, it wasn’t hard to understand why.

River monsters?

Initial ideas about the finned creatures inhabiting this river were put into our heads by Prof Gordon O’Brien of the University of Mpumalanga, who led a research team through the area in 2017. Instead of the flimsy fly rods we had brought with us for our fishing trip, Gordon and his fellow scientists were armed with nets, long lines, electro shockers and other highly effective heathen gear. Their approach was understandable really, as they were not messing about. Their goal? To gather as many fish species as possible for their database. Before we set off on our exploratory trip, Gordon shared with us the file of fish species his team had collected, a long list of colourful subtropical to tropical fishes which also included the fabled blue yellowfish of this region.

“THE BLUE YELLOWS OF THE KALUNGWISHI WERE PROPERLY CAMOUFLAGED TO THE POINT THAT IT ALMOST SEEMED LIKE THE RIVERBED CAME ALIVE AND ENGULFED OUR FLIES.”

“ONCE WE STARTED DRIFTING, IT BECAME EVIDENT THAT THE KALUNGWISHI WAS LIGHTNING FAST, AND ALMOST UNPLAYABLE.”

Besides these blue yellows, which were, of course, the main attraction for us, Gordon and his team also managed to catch tigerfish (Hydrocynus vittatus) below one of the big waterfalls. What messed with our imaginations most, though, were stories of big fish breaking off hooks and ripping apart long lines that had been left overnight with live baitfish (up to 10cm long). Gordon reckoned that the beasts responsible for ripping their night lines apart were likely very big blue yellows (also called mpifu by the locals). However, with the Kalungwishi being part of the Congo River system, we did wonder about other river monsters potentially inhabiting this headwater, like goliath tigerfish, or some kind of large vundu-like catfish perhaps? Here be dragons indeed.

Lightning…

The next day was the start of our rafting journey downstream of the falls from base camp. This is an approximately 60km stretch of river that George and Garth had already checked out in 2024. As things could go wrong on these kinds of experimental missions into the African bush, George and Garth’s recce hadn’t gone quite as planned. Their trip was severely compromised when their 4x4 got stuck in thick mud and thus saw them sleeping in a swamp on the first night. It took the better part of the next day to get out of that marshland. Also, a lack of pre-trip knowledge about the steep terrain lying ahead and the manpower required to carry their gear to the river’s edge cost them another day. They had to recruit locals from a nearby village to carry the Flycraft raft, food and other luggage necessary to survive in the bush for several days.

This time around, having experienced the place and paid the necessary school fees (luckily for me and Ben), they had things all worked out, facilitating a relatively easy start to the trip. Garth was nice enough to also warn us about the pesky mopane flies that would swarm your face while fishing, and suggested that bug repellent and even a head net were valuable pieces of equipment on this river. One of the other very important things they picked up during their previous visit was that a type of “drogue system” was required to slow the raft down for fishing. So, in anticipation of a relatively fast-flowing river, we brought with us many metres of ski rope and large 20-litre plastic containers that we could fill with sand and water and drag behind the boats to slow us down.

The main idea behind the drogue was that it would allow us to control drift speed and to systematically “work” the banks, effectively casting heavily weighted flies into gaps between trees and at the edges of structure on our daily drifts. As Garth put it: “Guys, this is not an easy river, it’s like a mini–Zambezi. The waterfalls are bigger than you think, and the current is very strong!”

Once we had launched and started drifting though, it became evident that the Kalungwishi was just too fast, as in lightning fast, and almost unplayable. Even with the drogue concept in play, we drifted at a clip of several kilometres per hour. Into the second day we realised

that the entire stretch we intended to fish was basically one long rapid, varying from relatively mild glides to “death grade” cascades and waterfalls in places. It was a frustrating experience, covering water at such a rapid pace that we could hardly get a cast in along the goodlooking banks. As a result, fish were few and far between. Nonetheless, we managed to “scratch out” numerous largemouth bream species during the first three days and, although some were pretty sizeable fish, there were no signs of the mpifu of the Kalungwishi.

“THIS IS NOT AN EASY RIVER, IT’S LIKE A MINI–ZAMBEZI. THE WATERFALLS ARE BIGGER THAN YOU THINK, AND THE CURRENT IS VERY STRONG!”

The ghost

Around midday into day four’s drift, Ben and I started doubting whether we’d even get the opportunity to see a blue yellow, never mind catch any of these elusive creatures on this, our return visit to northern Zambia. (We visited the Lukulu River in May 2024, see Issue 47.) We had covered so much water and fished such incredible looking structure for the better part of the trip without any powerful takes or sighted yellows. As we flew past a very long, shallow stretch of rapid, somewhat disheartened, we continued to plop flies at bankside vegetation hanging over what looked like only half a metre of water. Suddenly, Ben’s line tightened up and his rod bent double into a fish that clearly wasn’t a clumsy bream. It jolted line out and went straight back under the trees, trying to find roots and sticks to hide in. Still unable to see the fish, which was like a poltergeist

attached to the end of Ben’s line, we were tormented by it swinging the boat in the fast water, dragging Ben’s fly line all over the show before I could finally drop anchor and reach for the net. After going through hell, falling around all over the metal frame of the oar rig as we tried to get organised and maintain control of the drift, we finally had the fish at the boat’s edge and were now certain about what Ben had hooked. It was a beautiful and relatively big mpifu that somehow had been unseen in super-shallow water.

The next day it was my turn to hook into two mpifu near us in shallow, pumping water. Again, we hadn’t seen a thing before the line got yanked tight as they aggressively devoured the flies. Unlike the Lukulu, where before sightcasting and hooking up, the mpifu were often spotted either as solitary fish and sometimes in schools, the blue yellows of the Kalungwishi were properly camouflaged to the point that it almost seemed like the riverbed came alive and engulfed our flies.

The darkness

During our time spent on the water and looking out for fish, we also kept our eyes peeled for crocodiles. Zambian rivers are notorious for their big crocodiles and, besides seeing only one old croc slide into the water in six days, the Kalungwishi appeared to be devoid of these predators. Believing we were fairly safe in the fast water, we waded chest-deep to exposed boulders and tree trunks on the edge of the main river channel to fish.

It was on the last day that I bumped into a local fisherman with a wooden dugout (mokoro) and he kindly took me fishing. While showing me around on his stretch of the river and taking me to his favourite honey holes, he kept yelling at me indicating that I shouldn’t wade deeper than my ankles. I just chuckled, thinking he was worried I’d get swept away by the turbulent torrent. When I was done fishing and finally questioned him about his lack of confidence in my swimming capabilities, he mentioned to me and indicated with his hands that there were very big crocodiles in the system. From his description I could make out that they were very dark with heads over a metre long. The thought of such big crocodiles in the river we’d basically swum in sent cold shivers down my spine.

That evening the other crew members were all a bit surprised and rattled when I mentioned this to them while we were sipping beers around the campfire. George then also mentioned something else startling to us, namely that a dam project was planned on this part of the Kalungwishi for hydro-power generation. On our return to South Africa, Prof O’Brien confirmed this and mentioned that that was also the reason for their scientific fish survey. The dark thought of dam water flooding those beautiful and impressive waterfalls loomed over me for weeks after the trip. That said, if you’ve spent a few nights in Lusaka in recent years, you would have noticed the darkness of load shedding. Like South Africa, Zambia is in desperate need of electricity and more hydro-power plants are seen as one of the ways to solve their electricity crisis.

Carbon credits

On the flight back to South Africa, while paging through the Nkwazi, the in-flight magazine of Proflight Airways, we came across a very interesting article written by Royd Kapesa about carbon credits in Africa and more specifically Zambia. Companies in some of the biggest carbon-producing countries, such as China, USA, India, Russia and Japan, can invest in carbon offsetting projects in countries like Zambia. These projects reduce carbon production which typically comes from industrialised cities with high levels of carbon emissions. Interestingly, the load shedding issue was also mentioned as was the fact that severe droughts over the last decade in southern Africa have caused “dangerously low” water levels in Zambia’s hydroelectric dams. This, in turn, has led to the failure of hydroelectric power generation.

“THIS AREA COULD BECOME A CARBON-REDUCING SANCTUARY AND ANOTHER SUCCESS STORY OF GREEN INVESTMENT.”

While this shed some light on why we were left without power (and more importantly without coffee) on some nights in Lusaka, it also made me question the strategy of establishing more hydroelectric plants. Global warming is very real and the warning signs are all around us. Temperatures are rising and droughts are increasing all over the planet right now. Zambia has approximately 49.97 million hectares of natural forest of which 4.8 million hectares are gazetted forest reserves. This includes the nature reserves and game management areas surrounding the Kalungwishi River. Instead of yet another hydroelectric dam, this area could become a carbon-reducing sanctuary and another success story of green investment. Previous examples of successful Zambian carbon initiatives include the Luangwa Community Forests Project and Banki Community Forest Management Project which protect over one million hectares of natural forest, wildlife and traditional chiefdoms while catering for tourism, beekeeping and other sustainable activities that boost the Zambian economy.

In short, there’s a ton of scientific evidence showing how bad mainstream dams are for the aquatic ecology. A prime example is the collapse of wild fish populations caused by impassable dam walls in many river systems. Such dam walls also trap sediment and change the temperature and flow of rivers. Instead of losing a large part of natural miombo woodland and those iconic waterfalls of the Kalungwishi, of which the Kundabwika Falls were declared a national monument in 1964, this area could become green gold for Zambia and the rest of the world. I’d personally certainly put up with another dark night in Lusaka for the opportunity to float down this rainbow river once more.

SALAD BAR

HORIZON - GUIDE BREATHABLE ZIP WADERS

A slash. A whizz. Empty your bladder. Take a leak. Draining the snake. If you need one good reason to justify buying Horizon’s new Guide Breathable Zip Waders, then look no further than the full-length, high quality, German-made zipper that allows you to relieve yourself wherever you need to without having to exit the water (it also makes it easier to get your rump out of your waders at the end of a long day’s fishing). Need other reasons? Fortunately these feature-rich, war-ready, water-dungarees have plenty. There’s the engineered toughness built into these bad boys with a three-layer fabric on the waders’ upper surface and a four-layer fabric on the lower surface giving you added puncture resistance while keeping things breathable. Elasticized suspenders and an elasticised webbing belt with flush-fitting belt loops provide all day comfort, while two zippered, external splash-proof chest pockets, two zippered, external fleece-lined handwarmer pockets, a built-in internal zipper pocket and an internal transparent zipper pocket let you stash your fly boxes, phone, smokes and other goedes. Lastly, there’s all important integrated gravel guards to prevent annoying gravel and sand from entering your wading boots. frontierflyfishing.com

XPLORER - TIPPET HOLDER

Any angler worth their salt needs a stack of tippet within range so that - while keeping your eyes on a fish - you can reach braille-like for the second from bottom spool (the 6x), pull off a foot or two and re-do your leader. Designed to securely hold five standard tippet spools, Xplorer’s aluminium and stainless steel Tippet Holder allows for quick and easy access when re-rigging on the water. Bonus - it has a built in cutter. xplorerflyfishing.co.za

FULLING MILL - RONAN’S HIGHCOUNTRY GREEN CICADA

For a high-vis, ultra buoyant dry fly that looks like the Andre the Giant of elk hair caddis, look no further than this fly inspired by the bright green cicada common to the Otago highcountry in summer in New Zealand. The buoyancy makes it a great options for a dry - dropper setup too. Available from size 10 to 6. fullingmill.co.uk, flyfishing.co.za

FULLING MILL - BARBLESS OLIVE TADDY

As the late winter frog bukkake-fest shows results, with spring comes tadpoles. This highly effective barbless, brass bead head tadpole pattern is a must for your fly boxes whether you are fishing the margins on stillwaters (ideally fished on an intermediate to Di3 line) or trying to move the needle on bigger pool fish on a slow river day. fullingmill.co.uk, flyfishing.co.za

GRIP - BRASS DUMBBELL EYES

We don’t know about you, but we like our Clousers, other baitfish patterns and anything else we tie that has eyes to look extremely stressed, the whites of their eyes and the pupils bulging in panic like the nervous prey they are. In Grip’s new brass dumbbell eyes we might have found just the right level of minnow nightmare mania. Available both with and without pupils, in chartreuse and white as well as orange and white colour combos and in small, medium and large sizes. scientificfly.com

FISH SKULL - ARTICULATED MICRO SPINES

Gamechanger flies are renowned by now for their incredible movement that fish find irresistible, but for the most part people tie them in the lager sizes. Fish Skull’s articulated micro-spines allow you to downsize your gamechanger flies to better imitate smaller baitfish, crustaceans and insects. A new triangular back-loop design reduces the gap between segments and makes it easier to fit in your vise’s jaws. The system comprises of three different shanks (8mm, 6mm and a 6mm long tail shank) which can be daisy chained any way you see fit, giving you epic smaller flies with crazy lifelike movement. flymenfishingcompany.com, flyfishing.co.za

MID WEST - PREMIUM BUCKTAILS

Premiums bucktails in South Africa are hard to come by with most of us either having to make do with average options or getting a mate to smuggle (insert awkward walk) the XL ones in from the USA. Fortunately, Mavungana Fly Fishing and their importer’s license are bringing in Midwest Bucktails Premium Tails. Each hand-selected tail sports 4-inch plus fibres and is deboned, processed, and custom dyed in house, but the Midwest approach is to not overly process them, so as to provide tyers with the natural water shedding fibres needed to strap large predator flies. midwestbucktails.com, flyfishing.co.za

PATAGONIA - SWIFTCURRENT WADING JACKET

Arguably, the most kick-ass wading jacket out there, Patagonia’s Swiftcurrent is a 4-layer, waterproof/breathable wonder built of NetPlus® 100% postconsumer recycled nylon made from recycled fishing nets and a durable water repellent (DWR) finish made without intentionally added PFAS. It’s got two low-profile, front-zip pockets that fit fly boxes; plus zippered handwarmer pockets, flap covers for back-of-hand comfort, an easily adjustable, vented hood and an integrated collar provide maximum protection in heavy weather and high winds. Xplorer Fly Fishing are now stocking new colours so if you fancy investing in one with the tidal blue or rock green colourways, you know where to go. patagonia.com, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

“THE MOST KICK-ASS WADING JACKET OUT THERE”

TFO - MOMENT ROD

In the mid-level price range, TFO have a sterling reputation based off of decades of design DNA from the likes of Lefty Kreh. With the Moment rod range, they are playing in the higher price bracket, and from what we have heard so far, it’s an absolute winner. Built with TFO’s patented Kevlar weave, which keeps tracking on point and prevents ovaling, plus graphene reinforcement for faster recovery, you can expect an extra-fast action finetuned for power and precision, allowing you to generate speed with minimal false casting. Whatever the task - throwing long leaders,

NAUTILUS - GTS REELS

heavy lines, or pushing into the wind - this rod is designed to handle it all. The stiff tip recovers quickly for tight, highspeed loops and clean tracking, giving you the control you need when the shot has to count. After all, fly fishing so often comes down to a critical moment (hence the name) and your ability to respond to it timeously. Available in 6–12 weights, every Moment rod sports premium full-wells grips, fighting butts, and corrosion-resistant hardware and is backed by TFO’s no-fault lifetime warranty. tforods.com, wildfly.co.za

Based off the outstanding performance of Nautilus’s iconic GTX series, the new, smaller GTS reels incorporates the best of that design DNA and more. Expect a sleek, modern design, lightweight construction and smooth and simple left-to-right hand conversion. Integrated backing markers are machined into the spool for precise line filling and a standard 24mm or 15/16” socket compatibility makes it easy to remove a stuck spool cap. But the standout feature is the tailored drag adjustment system. For example, where the GTX featured a single-turn drag adjustment, to cover 90% of fishing scenarios, the GTSdesigned for line classes 5 to 8 - offers a dual-turn drag system. The first turn is optimized for 5 and 6 weight setups, while the second turn provides enhanced performance for 7 and 8 weight conditions. nautilusreels.com, flyfishing.co.za

SIMMS - HEADWATERS SLING PACK

The thing that appeals most off an initial glance at the Simms Headwaters Sling is the lack of snag points. This ambidextrous pack looks like a smooth river boulder on your back and that’s a good thing because you are less likely to hook up your tippet, line or flies at a crucial money shot moment in your fishing day. Built with rugged 630-Denier, at 12L it has plenty of space for anything you need for a full day on the water. Features include a hardy compression-moulded workstation (with a magnetic closure drop-in pocket), convenient net storage and a magnetic easy-access closure for keeping fishing essentials at the ready. simmsfishing.com,frontierflyfishing.com

“PLENTY OF SPACE FOR ANYTHING YOU NEED FOR A FULL DAY ON THE WATER.”

C&F DESIGN - 12 GRAND SLAM GUIDE BOAT BOX

While you might think the gents over at Japanese fly clobber brand C&F Design only focus on the freshwater realm, you’d be wrong to discount what they have built for saltwater fly anglers. Take the 12 Grand Slam Guide Boat Box. Perfect for saltwater anglers carrying multiple fly patterns, in true C&F style it sports removable foam inserts that can be clipped out and used in a system fly case, offering quick box switching on the go as opposed to the ungainly handling required with a large box of flies. It holds 12 Large Grand Slam inserts. e.g. 6 Tarpon - Flat Foam, 3 Permit - 4 Row Foam and 3 Bonefish - 5 Row Foam. Less faffing means more time fishing and a better chance at taking your shots when you get them. c-and-f.co.jp, frontierflyfishing.com

C&F DESIGN - UNIVERSAL SYSTEM FLY PATCH

Looking to store frequently used flies within easy range while fishing? Take a gander at C&F Design’s Universal System Fly Patch. Compatible with all C&F’s system foams and system boxes so it’s easy to swop out a small stream patch on one day for a bigger river patch the next, it comes with a neck strap that can be hung from both 2-point and 1-point types. Like most things C&F Design touches, this is a great option for adding to your storage. c-and-f.co.jp, frontierflyfishing.com

KORKERS - GREENBACK WADING BOOT

Vibram are a vibe, but felt is super fine, gripping onto slippery river rocks like your clingy ex. If you are on the hunt for some felt boots, take a gander at Korkers’ Greenback model - a great feature-rich and wallet-friendly option. Made from hydrophobic materials to ensure faster drying times on multiday trips (and lessen the chance of spreading invasive species), they feature abrasion-resistant materials and strategic seam locations to minimize wear. Water flows through internal channels then out midsole ports, removing excess water and weight, while traction comes from the OmniTrax® Interchangeable Sole System so you can change things up should you need to (interchangeable Klingon soles are available separately). korkers.com, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

Photo: Will Graham

Rod

CORTLAND - BACKCOUNTRY FLOATING LINE

Looking for a new saltwater floating line for Seffrican estuary work and tropical flats fishing? Then you may just have come to the right paragraph in this fine rag as the Tropic Plus Backcountry is Cortland’s uber versatile category offering. Designed for a variety of fishing at close, mid, and long-range, the elongated rear taper is ideal for quick changes in line direction (“Leerie bust-up at 7 o’clock, 20 metres!”). Designed with tarpon, snook, redfish, and seatrout in mind, that species versatility will apply just the same to local grunts, leeries and kob as well as flats fish like bones, permit, triggers and GTs. cortlandline.com, wildfly.co.za

SMITH CREEK - BEVERAGE BOTTLE

Kiwi accessory makers Smith Creek’s water bottles feature rugged, stainless steel double-wall vacuum-insulated construction that will keep your drinks hot or cold for ages. The leakproof cap is BPA-free, dishwasher safe, and has an attached screwtop drinking spout with an integrated carry handle. Available in Light Olive and Matte Black. smithcreek.co, flyfishing.co.za

“KEEP YOUR DRINKS HOT OR COLD FOR AGES.”

LOON OUTDOORS - D-LOOP TWEEZER KIT

Whether it’s teasing Dobsonfly dick hairs out of dubbing loops, making micro-adjustments to ensure your baitfish eyes aren’t squint, or tackling your own troublesome monobrow, Loon’s D-Loop Tweezer Kit gives you three locking tweezers to cover pretty much any job. With smooth tips and powder-coated handles, you can pick up all sizes of beads and hooks while the self-locking Z-shape holds materials while resting. loonoutdoors.com, xplorerflyfishing.co.za

RIO - EURO NYMPH LEADERS 0X/2X

If you’ve fallen down the nymph rod and reel rabbit hole, you are also going to need some proper nymphing leaders. With their uniquely designed taper, highvis two-tone indicator tippet for maximum strike detection, plus a trout-sized tippet ring for fast rigging and both chartreuse or brown configurations for visibility - Rio’s

TFO - ELEVARE ROD

As fished by top Protea fly angler Amy Visser in comps, TFO’s Elevare nymphing rod’s name comes from the Italian for “to lift, raise or elevate,” as this premium series allows anglers to deliver and hook fish more effectively in leary, light line, and small fly environments. We challenge you not to fish it and sing “Elevare-ooooh-oh,” to the tune of “Volare”. Models range from a 10-foot, 2-weight, through to an 11-foot, 4-weight, but all come in well under 85gms (3.0 ounces). The two and three-weight, 10-foot models feature half-wells grips and down-locking reel seats. The 10’6 and 11-foot models feature tapered full wells grips and burl cork fighting butts, and down-locking reel seats for precise balance. tforods.com, wildfly.co.za

The difference between landing the fish of a lifetime or watching it slip away often comes down to one thing: your tippet.

RIVERMAN - LAINOS LEATHER BACKPACK

A company within a company like one of those Russian nesting dolls, Riverman is a Mavungana Flyfishing off-shoot and they make spiffy bovine leather goods like the Lainos backpack. Available in medium or large , it’s a classy carrier for both the office or weekends away. They can also be personalised with your name, but take note, “FIGJAM, King of Dullies” is already taken. flyfishing.co.za

“FOR BOTH THE OFFICE OR WEEKENDS AWAY.”

ORVIS - SUN DEFENSE NECK GAITER

Gaiters often feel like something you might not need, until the second day of a trip when your neck is burnt so badly, the slightest wind makes you wince. With a new, ultrabreathable, soft, moisture-wicking, recycled polyester/ spandex fabric that’s designed to keep you both cool and dry, Orvis’s Sun Defense Neck Gaiter gives your poor office worker skin the barrier it needs with UPF 50+ sun protection. Bonus, it also works when wet (you’re imagining the splash of a tarpon tail, we see you drenched in tropical sweat or soaked from a bum funnel). orvis.com, flyfishing.co.za

SIMMS - COLDWEATHER CAP

Not only will the Simms Coldweather Cap keep you warm while hunting ‘wabbits’ à la Elmer Fudd, but it will keep those old lugholes warm on the water too. That’s thanks to a polyester/wool blend outer shell and an interior polyester sherpa fleece giving you maximum pip warmth. If the sun comes out, the convertible ear flaps can be stowed using integrated snap buttons. simmsfishing.com, frontierflyfishing.com

PAY DAY

SIMMS - GRATEFUL DEAD COLLECTION

THE MISSION – MR FLOPPY KHAKI

Mr Floppy, our medium-wide brim, boonie-style hat with an adjustable drawstring is now available in a washed khaki colour. themissionflymag.com

While not the first fly fishing brand to do a Grateful Dead collab (we believe Abel Reels takes that plaudit), Montana-based Simms Fishing’s new collection is extra shweet for Deadheads. Featuring everything from G3 waders, SolarTech Hoodys, T-shirts and caps, you get regular Simms quality in a GD package (while stocks last). simmsfishing.com

BULLS IN A CHINA SHOP

REDFISH IN HONG KONG? WHAT NEXT, TIGERFISH IN THE BAYOU? LURED IN BY BULLS, BUT ALERT FOR BS, WE INVESTIGATES WHAT LOCAL ANGLER MARTIN CONNELL IS UP TO.

Photos. Martin Connell Interview. Matt Kennedy

Afew months back we were tagged in a video by a guy catching redfish. “Coolio, broseph!” we thought, making imaginary finger guns at what we initially assumed must be a fan in Louisiana or Texas. Except, when we paid closer attention, we saw that this was all happening in the environs of Asian financial-hub-megacity Hong Kong. Yes, that place, the home of Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee. And these weren’t some Fong Kong redfish raised in an aquarium but proper ones, you know, red drum, Sciaenops ocellatus, the real McCoy. Curiosity piqued, we asked the angler in question, Martin Connell, how he came to be catching redfish in Hong Kong waters.

First off, redfish, in Hong Kong? How did they arrive there? Fish farms, escaped pets, really lost tourists..? I know, right? It’s really wild when you think about it. When I first caught a redfish in Hong Kong many years ago, I was really surprised. I knew about redfish from US fishing magazines, but I had never seen one before and, when I landed it, I was confused about what I was seeing. I went home, checked online, and confirmed it was definitely a redfish. I’ve done a lot of research since then, and over the last 20 years, I’ve seen that they are here to stay. Let me give you a brief history of how they ended up here.

“PICKING THE RIGHT FLIES FOR HONG KONG REDFISH IS STILL VERY MUCH IN THE EXPERIMENTAL STAGE.”

Between 1980 and 1990, redfish were introduced to the fish farming industry in Taiwan and then in China. It didn’t take off as expected because redfish don’t steam well, which is how locals like to cook fish. Farming and eating redfish in China are still ongoing, but it’s not high on the menu. Some believe they escaped from fish farms here, but I think that percentage is very small. The main reason redfish are in Hong Kong waters is religious practices, particularly among Buddhists, who release fish and other animals into the wild to gain good karma. This practice is very damaging to the environment throughout Hong Kong, but there are no laws prohibiting it.

I’ve seen this practice many times while out fishing or travelling to and from beaches in the summer. Buddhists will hire a big boat, like a cruiser, with 30 to 40 people on board. They say prayers, and they have a large stainless steel slide into the water. Customers can say prayers and release the fish into the ocean. When organisers of these religious events go to China to purchase fish, they naturally buy the largest quantity of the cheapest fish available to maximise profit. For the last 20 years, that has been redfish. One boat over the course of a weekend could release up to 2 000 fish.

That said, over the last two years, I’ve noticed a decrease in redfish releases. Now the more popular fish being released are pomfret and pompano*, so we’ll likely see a huge increase in those species as well. Redfish are an invasive species here but I really can’t complain as it’s one of the top fly fishing sport fish. I’ve heard stories of them being in other places around Asia in the wild, but they may be just stories because I’ve never seen a photo.

Are they exactly the same species as the Louisiana/ Texas, Gulf of Mexico redfish that you get in the US? Yes, they are the same species you find in the US. There’s a photo of my son and me standing with an absolute bull of a redfish, with the Kowloon skyline in the background. After that went viral in the redfish community in the US, many hardcore redfish anglers reached out to find out what was going on. I got in contact with Andrew Brown from Drum Spots in Florida ( drumspots.com ), and he had a wealth of information on redfish. He was superstoked that we had redfish here and helped spread the word. I learned a lot about redfish as I communicated with them, and watching them catch redfish on the fly was so appealing. That’s the reason I picked up a fly rod again and got so hooked on it. Since then, I’ve been trying to put Hong Kong on the redfish map.

What sizes are we talking about? Do you get “bull” redfish? You can absolutely catch bulls here. The average redfish on any given day is around 60cm to 80cm, which is a really fun size for a fish. I’ve caught many around the one metre mark, and my largest on a lure was 112cm from the bank. I would say that anything at the one metre mark is considered a bull.

What’s the fly fishing scene like in Hong Kong?

The fly fishing scene in Hong Kong is very small. There are a handful of local fly fishers, but they don’t fish for redfish. They prefer targeting small freshwater fish, juvenile saltwater fish. Indo-Pacific tarpon also seems to be a favoured target. They are quite small in the northern canals. So, most of the time I have the entire fishery to myself. I only know of two other fly fishers who target redfish here, and I’ve only fished with one of them. Recently, there’s been a lot of interest after

I landed a few big redfish and shared them on Instagram. Some fly fishers from across the border in China want to come and try their luck and, of course, a number of fly fishers internationally want to come over and catch a Hong Kong redfish.

What’s your go-to method for fishing?

I really enjoy walking the bank and wading. In the summer it’s extremely hot and humid so wading in the water is the best option. I have a 5-metre open-deck fishing boat that gets me around the bay. For fly fishing, I usually anchor the boat and wade around until I see something. I also have a SUP and that has worked really well. It just shows how easy it is to access the fish.

“HONG KONG REDFISH BEHAVE THE SAME WAY AS THEY DO IN THE US, BUT THEY HAVE ADAPTED TO THE LOCAL ENVIRONMENT.”

Talk to us about the conditions and locations. Is it always in full saltwater or are there estuary conditions?

The best area in Hong Kong is the east side of the New Territories, an area called Sai Kung. It’s absolutely gorgeous and feels very tropical, with lots of beautiful beaches and small islands scattered around the bay. There are only two small estuaries there, but they’re very small, so the best place to target redfish is around the islands in shallow water. They behave the same way as they do in the US, but they have adapted to the local environment. You’ll find them in flat, sandy areas and on the corners of beaches and islands where a nice current flows past. They hang out in calm sections, aggressively smashing anything that comes by, and they’re almost always in packs. Early summer mornings on a high tide are the best time to target them, as they move up and down the island banks throughout the day feeding on shrimp, crabs, juvenile squid and bait fish. Sai Kung is only 30 minutes from the city, so it’s a very easy place to get to. There are loads of kayak rentals in Sai Kung which makes it easy to access the bay.

What’s your setup?

I use a very basic setup: a Redington Wrangler Salt 8-weight, floating line with a 10-foot 20lb tapered fluorocarbon leader. I’m really into saltwater fly fishing now, so I have a long shopping list of new gear I need to purchase. The flies, though, are where the magic happens. I get my flies from Biohazard Flies ( instagram. com/biohazardflies ), tied by a great friend of mine, Karl, who makes all my flies. I think he’s really the pioneer of trying to catch redfish in Hong Kong with a fly rod, which isn’t an easy feat to achieve. He’s pointed me in the right direction with technique, tackle and, with my previous conventional fishing redfish knowledge and experience, I have been quite successful. I give him a lot of credit. Picking the right flies for Hong Kong redfish is still very much in the experimental stage, but so far, we’ve had a lot of success with a variation of the Redfish Crack flies. As I said, it’s highly experimental, and we’re still trying to nail down what they really want to see. For example, they’ll absolutely smash a white 3-inch soft plastic paddle tail any day, but I tried a white fly consistently for a few months, and nothing happened. So, it’s very much trial and error.

Are the fish spooky? What’s your approach?

Redfish aren’t easily spooked here since they have no natural predators, so they’re very comfortable just feeding and cruising around. You can make several casts at them without giving yourself away. There are plenty of baitfish in the bay because there aren’t many predatory species around, allowing redfish to feed well. However, they’ll ignore your fly if you don’t present it well enough. They don’t want to work too hard, so a slow and steady retrieve always works for me.

“THE MAIN REASON REDFISH ARE IN HONG KONG WATERS IS RELIGIOUS PRACTICES, PARTICULARLY AMONG BUDDHISTS, WHO RELEASE FISH TO GAIN GOOD KARMA.”

Catching my first redfish on the fly was incredibly difficult and took a long time to achieve. I knew where they liked to hang out, so I started by blind casting into those areas, trying to retrieve the fly as I would a regular soft plastic. It took a while, but I finally hooked one. You know that first fish feeling? I got to live that all over again. Such a good feeling.

Now, with more experience casting into the right zones, I’ve found the best way to target redfish in Hong Kong is by walking the bank and sight-casting. Walk the flats or the bank, find a high vantage point, and wait. They’ll come past. They usually travel in packs, just like in the US. When they do, make a couple of false casts, put it into their path and use a nice, slow, steady strip-strip-strip retrieve. If they see it, they’ll almost certainly go for it. I recently landed my personal best on the fly, a one metre redfish and I’m still frothing about it!

Are there any other species you target in the area? I only target redfish on the fly, but there are many species around Hong Kong and some of them offer great fishing.

Giant trevally, queenfish, mangrove jacks, and ladyfish are just a few. Saltwater fishing in Hong Kong isn’t terrible, but it’s by no means easy. You have to put in the hours to reap the rewards.

Hong Kong seems to be highly policed. Does this spill over into the fishing?

Hong Kong is heavily focused on political policing, and I honestly don’t think they prioritise conservation at all. When you think of Hong Kong, you might only picture the megacity, but it’s surrounded by a coastline and has a vast countryside on Hong Kong Island and in the New Territories. The Sai Kung district is a great example of this, with its highly diverse natural environment. Currently, there are no conservation laws for saltwater fishing, no catch limits or size limits, absolutely nothing. You don’t need a permit to fish in saltwater. I’ve tried to get involved a few times to push for fishing regulations but, at public meetings, the Agriculture, Fisheries and Conservation Department (AFCD) stated that fishing laws are not a priority. As a result, the local fishery in Hong Kong is completely decimated. You can swim in any

body of water along the coastline without worrying about a shark. Hong Kong is actually a very beautiful place but it’s not protected by the AFCD at all.

How do you get to the fishery? Are you wadered-up on the buses and trains before patrolling the flats?

I’m lucky enough to live within walking distance of some amazing fishing spots inside the country park in one of Sai Kung’s many villages. Village life here is great and away from the hustle and bustle of the city. I mostly drive, and my boat is only five minutes away on a mooring. I hope in the future you all can come and try your luck and hook a Hong Kong redfish. I believe Hong Kong has the potential to be a redfish fly fishing destination, or at the very least, a great layover destination.

* Ed.: We stand to be corrected, but it appears that the farmed pompano in question is often golden pompano, aka Trachinotus blochii, aka the self-same IndoPacific permit saltwater fly anglers lose their collective minds over

HOW ABOUT INDIAN OCEAN REDFISH?

Weirdly, redfish have been more successfully farmed in countries where they were imported like China, Taiwan, Israel, Mauritius and Mayotte than they have been in their native US. While we are not encouraging you to break the laws of any sovereign nation (cough), if you find yourself heading to Mauritius on one of those resort-y family holidays, you may be interested to know that the island has a few fish farms located close to shore down along the south-eastern coast. Those farms have pens containing... you guessed it. Is there a chance that if someone were to cast a Kwan or Redfish Crack fly from a SUP in the vicinity of those pens that they might hook up with the Andy Dufresne escapee of a redfish? There’s always a chance. If you manage to pull it off, please mail any photos to info@themissionflymag.com

ROCK STAR

STILL CLIMBING MOUNTAINS AND CATCHING LEERIES AT 78, ZANDVLEI LOCAL AND RETIRED GEOLOGIST ANDY KILLICK MIGHT VERY WELL BE THE MUSE FOR TOBY KEITH’S COUNTRY HIT, “DON’T LET THE OLD MAN IN”.

Photos. Andy Killick, Gareth Reid

My dad was a keen rock-and-surf angler, and I can recall my first fish being a yellow belly rockcod caught on bait under his tutelage at Boulders (Simon’s Town) in my preteen years.

I have had a few jobs. Apart from short stints as a clerk in the Cape Town Traffic Department, as a handyman and an editor of foreign students’ theses, most of my career was as an exploration geologist, an applied researcher (geoscience), and finally as a geological consultant.

My career as an exploration geologist entailed living in too many places to mention them all. I spent most of my formative years in Cape Town and think of myself as Capetonian. My career took me away, but I returned soon after retiring. In between I have lived in a grass hut in the Viphya Mountains of northern Malawi; more than five years in Namibia in several memorable homes including a field camp in the area of the lower Orange and Fish rivers prior to the development of the Ai-Ais resort; a permanent camp in the desert close to the Kuiseb River in what would become the Namib-Naukluft National Park and, when I was in a more senior position, in Windhoek itself. Then I spent a wonderful year as a postgraduate student in London (England), where I met the young lady who would become my life-long partner, followed by another year in her hometown of Fredericton, New Brunswick (Canada). We also lived in Upington (banks of the Orange River, Northern Cape) for two years. We had two years in Salisbury/Harare in what was Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), which was notable in that it was where I made the permanent transition from

bait and lure angling to fly fishing. I spent a lot of time fly fishing for trout in the Eastern Highlands (Nyanga). Lastly, we lived in Johannesburg for 27 years and spent many family holidays in Mpumalanga fishing for trout. I have lived in Cape Town for the past 16 years, within walking distance of Zandvlei.

I am now retired and life is very leisurely. Many of my days start with a short fishing session around daybreak in Zandvlei. This is followed by attending to other issues such as house maintenance, correspondence and a little bit of research work. Being blessed with good health, I also spend about a day a week hiking or rock climbing in the mountains of the Cape Peninsula.

for a full day.

Proximity to my home is one of the most appealing aspects of Zandvlei. I can walk there and go home when the wind gets too strong. A decade and more ago it was only fished by a small number of fly fishers and we were a tight community. The sparse numbers meant that there was never any jostling for space! Sadly, being in an urban environment, water quality and litter are never-ending problems. It can be quite embarrassing to introduce a newcomer to fishing between plastic bottles, foil packets, car tyres and even used condoms! With the advent of social media, Zandvlei is now swamped by fishers every time a notable catch is posted.

“BEFORE I DIE, I HAVE A FEW SPECIES I WANT TO CATCH ON FLY –NOTABLY SKIPJACK, TARPON AND PERMIT. AT 78, I DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME LEFT BUT STILL MAINTAIN A BUCKET LIST!”

For fly anglers who have never experienced this fishery, Zandvlei is a managed estuary that is open to the sea during the winter months and is only opened artificially for a few days around spring tide in summer to ameliorate water quality and levels. The estuary is a protected area and so it is catch-and-release only for the indigenous species. The estuary is about three kilometres long and can vary in terms of salinity and water clarity.

My typical setup for Zandvlei is a 9-weight rod with a floating line and a 3m leader of 7kg monofilament as my basic rig. This enables me to cope with casting in the wind and keep the fight relatively short for the benefit of the fish. Flies I use include brush flies, Deceiver and Clouser patterns, along with surface flies in early summer. However, I have caught leeries on a great variety of flies (even small ones on trout flies) and continue to experiment.

The best advice I have ever been given is, “Stick with it!” Determination, tempered with an open and enquiring mind, can solve most problems.

I have personally caught leeries/garrick, elf/shad, carp, sharptooth catfish, Mozambique tilapia, largemouth bass, mullet and Cape stumpnose in Zandvlei. But leeries are by far my favourite and remain my main quarry because of their speed and aggressive takes. One gets many follows that end in refusals from leeries. I get a better hook-up rate fishing in low-light with a fast retrieve.

I am most proud of my family and my scientific endeavours.

I have a natural ability to solve problems, albeit slowly. But I have always been self-contained and have had to work at communication and the people aspect of management.

“A FOUR-MONTH TRIP … CULMINATED IN A THREE-MONTH SOJOURN IN HOSPITAL AFTER A 150M AVALANCHE-INDUCED FALL FROM A ROCK AND ICE PEAK IN THE ROCKIES WHERE I HAD SOLOED.”

The most satisfying fish I ever caught was my first leerie landed at Zandvlei after three months of experimentation and learning!

My go-to drink is red wine, only beaten by an ice-cold beer after a physical day in hot conditions.

One place, never again? Working in countries where alcohol is banned based on religious grounds (no beer), and in the Sahara (no fish) at temperatures around 50°C, are experiences I would happily forego repeating.

One place I have to return to is the Seychelles.

It is OK for an angler to lie when sharing information about fishing with those who are likely to be hard on the fish or the environment. This may demand being economical with the truth.

The handiest survival skills I have are adaptability, a sense of direction, and a sense of humour.

A skill I’d like to master is the full gamut of what constitutes fly fishing.

The biggest adventure I have ever been on was a fourmonth trip visiting a chain of parks and reserves from the east coast of Canada, down to southern California, then up to Alaska on logging roads with my girlfriend in her VW Beetle. It culminated in a three-month sojourn in the Banff (Alberta) hospital after a 150m avalanche-induced fall on the descent from a rock and ice peak in the Rockies where I had soloed.

The best way to face one’s fears is by understanding the source of the fear and then taking well-considered steps to mitigate any real danger.

“A SKILL I’D LIKE TO MASTER IS THE FULL GAMUT OF WHAT CONSTITUTES FLY FISHING.”

Before I die, I have a few species I want to catch on fly – notably skipjack, tarpon and permit. At 78, I don’t have much time left but still maintain a bucket list!

What I get out of fly fishing has changed over the years. Early in my fishing career it was all about numbers and size. Now it is much more about how the fish is caught and adding new species to my list. At the start of my fly fishing career flies were store-bought; now I am reluctant to use any fly I haven’t tied myself.

If I could change one thing in fly fishing, it would be its commonly perceived, and sometimes real, aloofness from other branches of fishing. Such a wonderful pastime should be made as accessible as possible to all.

Looking back, I have had a good life and there is not too much I would change. Perhaps I’d have started fly fishing at an earlier age and spent more quality time with my family. This would have enabled me to design trips that better integrate my joint passions of mountaineering and fly fishing.

Something I have changed my mind about is that although a satisfying career is important and requires commitment, I should have perhaps found a better balance between it and recreation.

The last fish I caught was a very fat stillwater trout.

A fly fishing family - Andy’s wife and both sons fly fish too. Here Andy and youngest son Mark celebrate a great largemouth yellowfish on a Mavungana Fly Fishing Orange River drift.

POP QUIZ

IS YOUR MIND A STEEL TRAP OR DO YOU FARM OUT ALL YOUR THINKING TO AI CRAP? TAKE OUR RAPID-FIRE QUIZ TO SEE IF THAT SOGGY SCROLLSPONGE YOU CALL A BRAIN RETAINED ANYTHING FROM THIS ISSUE.

1. What does guide Juan Rossouw refuse to consider doing (page 20)?

A. His and Hers side-by-side toilets for playing Battleshits.

B. Leaving home without his Swiftcurrent jacket and fishing pliers.

C. A combover like Ol’ Mad Mango Mussolini.

D. Being found dead wearing Crocs.

2. According to Matt Kennedy, how does “kapok” differ from normal snowflakes (page 26)?

A. It lacks unique hexagonal patterns, instead falling like clumps of fluffy ice.

B. It’s yellow and smells of asparagus.

C. It makes 000-weight snowballs.

D. It doesn’t make a whining sound like Charlie Kirk.

E. It doesn’t pretend to be victimised then try take the rights of minorities.

3. Hong Kong fly angler Martin Connell says redfish got to the area by... (page 84)?

A. Swimming. Duh.

B. Fighting their way out of an aquarium, Jackie Chanstyle.

C. Escaping a fish farm.

D. On a fin and a prayer, after being released by wellmeaning Buddhists.

4. SA’s top-ranked comp angler Dan Factor lives in Gauteng yet represents Western Province, because... (page 38)?

A. He wants to be closer to Helen Zille.

B. He wants to be pushed to be better within the dominant Western Province team.

C. Half of Joburg has already moved there.

D. He has always secretly supported the Stormers.

E. He feels a spiritual connection with Table Mountain.

5. What is thought to be responsible for breaking hooks and ripping apart long lines left overnight below waterfalls on northern Zambia’s Kalungwishi River (page 58)?

A. Colossal blue yellows.

B. The same numptys who cut the North Sea cables.

C. Hippos.

D. Goliath tigers.

E. The river god, Nyami Nyami.

6. Which of the following has our Lifer Andy Killick not ticked off his bucket list (page 94)?

A. Living on the Orange River.

B. Fly fishing for leervis daily in season.

C. Soloing rock and ice peaks in the Rockies.

D. Tarpon on fly.

E. A Seychelles trip.

“FIGHTING THEIR WAY OUT OF AN AQUARIUM, JACKIE CHAN-STYLE.”

Wooly-headed? Sheep-for-brains? One chop short of a rack? Take our quiz to see if you remember more than your last meal.