The One that Got Away
The Kara's of Wolmaranstad have been fishing the Vaal river for generations. They have mastered the art of river fishing and I try to learn something new on each trip. On my last trip to Wollies as it is affectionately known we ended up as usual planning the weekends fishing trip. The days trip was planned and carried out with military efficiency. The only point of debate was whether to begin with the Shrimp fly pattern or the woolly bugger. Both Mohammad and Suleiman are ardent fly fisherman and practice catch and release. Some days as many as a fifty fish are caught and released. Only the largest fish goes home to the pot.
The early morning saw us arrive after a short half hour drive with a 5 minute stop for cool drinks and munchies at one of the rural towns on the way. We arrived at the gates with only a few hundred meters of gravel road to the waters edge and were welcomed with a gentle westerly breeze and the soothing sound of water passing over the rocks. The water was cool, clean, low and sparsely littered with hyacinth. Yellowfish jumped every few minutes all around us.
Base Camp was set up silently, each using the time to speculate their ideal spot. Suleiman went straight to the deep pools and Muhammad was off to the shallows. I am from Pietermaritzburg in KwaZulu-Natal and my fishing experience is mainly off the Durban coastline. Certainly, the style and methods are different on the river and this being only my fourth trip to the river, all I had to go on was what I learned from the previous trips and from discussions with Muhammad and Suleiman coupled with fisherman’s instinct.
Muhammad advised me on how to tie a trace suitable for the rocky river bed and offered me a net that I refused . A decision I soon regretted. I headed for the water and decided on the stretch between the deep pool upstream and the shallow rocks downstream. The river was about 40 meters wide at this point and I made my way slowly and carefully negotiating the slippery rocky river bed. About 15 meters later I arrived at the boulder shaped as a table top I could use for the extra tackle, bait and cigarettes.
Muhammad was downstream at the shallows while Suleiman was at the deeper pools upstream. I cast between the water-lillies as they left the deeper pools and watched the line drift slowly downstream to the faster flowing shallows. Both Muhammad and Suleiman were into their first fish after only a few minutes. Soon afterwards I also joined in the action and to my surprise, after an energetic fight the landed fish was just and average sized small mouth yellow that was released.
The rest of the morning was quiet. The cool water passed on slowly and so did the time. An hour passed with nothing. I decided to change my strategy a bit and casted deeper upstream,nothing. I watched the line drift slowly passed me. After a few seconds I felt an explosive shock run from my fingers through my arms to my chest. I looked up and saw the tail end of a splash a few meters in front of me. I lifted the rod to set the hook and was only allowed a few turns of the reel. I was on. In a split second the line was moving upstream with the rod tip facing the deep pools. The strain was great and I was afraid the it would break and had to release the ratchet. The fish was soon well into the deep pool which meant I lost over 40 meters to the bugger. As he slowed, I managed to reel in a few meters and he leaped out of the water. This 360 degree turn saw him swim passed me and I noticed he was probably going to the security of the rocky area about 30 meters down stream. This was my chance. I reeled in as fast as I could and the line strained again. Before I knew it and cursing myself for not reeling in faster he was among in the rocks. I released some line coaxing him into running again to no avail. The energy levels brought on by the adrenalin rush subsided instantly into despair but jolted back up after just 10 seconds. He took a short break and was on the move again. I reeled in as fast as I could and made up another 20 meters. He was now just en meters away. He swam away from me to the right and then to the left. For every meter I was allowed to reel in I had to let go two. The muscles in my left forearm were now beginning to pull but I could not give up just yet. Over ten minutes had already passed and it felt like an eternity. I was oblivious to anything else and savoured every second of the fight.
I was already planning his extraction when I realised I refused the net offered to my by Muhammad before entering the water. I wondered if I could make it to the bank without falling, definitely not. Muhammad remembered that I refused the net and instructed somebody at base camp to rush to my aid. This was reassuring. All I had to do now was to get the fish out of the water and hold on to it while I waited for the net.
The fish was just two meters away and I could see his shadow as he tried to make his final run. The tired fish finally gave up and was soon out of the water. I had to hold my hand outstretched above me. The rod was bent with the tip just above the reel. I was afraid the rod might shatter and had to get the fish closer to me to hold onto it while I waited for the net. I looked around and Ebie already at the waters edge. As I took my eyes of the fish and to the reel to release the ratchet so I could let out line to get the fish close to me I heard a splash. In what felt like slow motion I looked up to a dangling empty hook and then looked down to the tired fish lying on a rock. I reached through the surface of the water. As I touched his slippery head and body he darted away with blistering speed. GONE
The early morning saw us arrive after a short half hour drive with a 5 minute stop for cool drinks and munchies at one of the rural towns on the way. We arrived at the gates with only a few hundred meters of gravel road to the waters edge and were welcomed with a gentle westerly breeze and the soothing sound of water passing over the rocks. The water was cool, clean, low and sparsely littered with hyacinth. Yellowfish jumped every few minutes all around us.
Base Camp was set up silently, each using the time to speculate their ideal spot. Suleiman went straight to the deep pools and Muhammad was off to the shallows. I am from Pietermaritzburg in KwaZulu-Natal and my fishing experience is mainly off the Durban coastline. Certainly, the style and methods are different on the river and this being only my fourth trip to the river, all I had to go on was what I learned from the previous trips and from discussions with Muhammad and Suleiman coupled with fisherman’s instinct.
Muhammad advised me on how to tie a trace suitable for the rocky river bed and offered me a net that I refused . A decision I soon regretted. I headed for the water and decided on the stretch between the deep pool upstream and the shallow rocks downstream. The river was about 40 meters wide at this point and I made my way slowly and carefully negotiating the slippery rocky river bed. About 15 meters later I arrived at the boulder shaped as a table top I could use for the extra tackle, bait and cigarettes.
Muhammad was downstream at the shallows while Suleiman was at the deeper pools upstream. I cast between the water-lillies as they left the deeper pools and watched the line drift slowly downstream to the faster flowing shallows. Both Muhammad and Suleiman were into their first fish after only a few minutes. Soon afterwards I also joined in the action and to my surprise, after an energetic fight the landed fish was just and average sized small mouth yellow that was released.
The rest of the morning was quiet. The cool water passed on slowly and so did the time. An hour passed with nothing. I decided to change my strategy a bit and casted deeper upstream,nothing. I watched the line drift slowly passed me. After a few seconds I felt an explosive shock run from my fingers through my arms to my chest. I looked up and saw the tail end of a splash a few meters in front of me. I lifted the rod to set the hook and was only allowed a few turns of the reel. I was on. In a split second the line was moving upstream with the rod tip facing the deep pools. The strain was great and I was afraid the it would break and had to release the ratchet. The fish was soon well into the deep pool which meant I lost over 40 meters to the bugger. As he slowed, I managed to reel in a few meters and he leaped out of the water. This 360 degree turn saw him swim passed me and I noticed he was probably going to the security of the rocky area about 30 meters down stream. This was my chance. I reeled in as fast as I could and the line strained again. Before I knew it and cursing myself for not reeling in faster he was among in the rocks. I released some line coaxing him into running again to no avail. The energy levels brought on by the adrenalin rush subsided instantly into despair but jolted back up after just 10 seconds. He took a short break and was on the move again. I reeled in as fast as I could and made up another 20 meters. He was now just en meters away. He swam away from me to the right and then to the left. For every meter I was allowed to reel in I had to let go two. The muscles in my left forearm were now beginning to pull but I could not give up just yet. Over ten minutes had already passed and it felt like an eternity. I was oblivious to anything else and savoured every second of the fight.
I was already planning his extraction when I realised I refused the net offered to my by Muhammad before entering the water. I wondered if I could make it to the bank without falling, definitely not. Muhammad remembered that I refused the net and instructed somebody at base camp to rush to my aid. This was reassuring. All I had to do now was to get the fish out of the water and hold on to it while I waited for the net.
The fish was just two meters away and I could see his shadow as he tried to make his final run. The tired fish finally gave up and was soon out of the water. I had to hold my hand outstretched above me. The rod was bent with the tip just above the reel. I was afraid the rod might shatter and had to get the fish closer to me to hold onto it while I waited for the net. I looked around and Ebie already at the waters edge. As I took my eyes of the fish and to the reel to release the ratchet so I could let out line to get the fish close to me I heard a splash. In what felt like slow motion I looked up to a dangling empty hook and then looked down to the tired fish lying on a rock. I reached through the surface of the water. As I touched his slippery head and body he darted away with blistering speed. GONE
posted by Muhammad | 10:24 AM
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