This one’s for you kids - Drakensberg July 2006

“Dad lets go fishing”

Fishing. I have dangled a hook in all kinds of water, salt, fresh, running and still, from land and from boat but have yet to “fish”. My definition of which is to actually catch one. Of all fishing torture Fly fishing is the cruellest. How much slack line is required? Too much and it wraps around your feet, too little and the fly doesn’t reach the water. When does the rhythmic artistry of the cast become a frenzied staccato swatting, with the hook flying at its own volition past the nose of your companion before lodging itself in the back of your neck?

How can I get out of this one? Tristan, at seven, is a keen fisherman, yet to realise the hopelessness of fishing with his Dad. It’s for the kids, Alison reminds me, with an air of finality. She is right, of course, we had planned this holiday to Champagne Sports Resort in the ‘Berg’ specifically around the particular needs of a 14 year old girl and her annoying 7 year old brother.

So I find myself at the nearby Drakensberg Sun forking out R50 for a permit, R90 to hire a rod and R22 for 3 flies, essentially to row aimlessly around the dam.

As the metal oar holder on the boat is broken I grab a double-sided Kayak paddle and attempt to manhandle the rowing boat into the dam in the general direction of the river mouth, a good place for fish I am told. We get to a likely spot and I put the paddle down to thread the line through the eyes on the rod, tie on the fly and generally prepare. No sooner had I done so then I realise we are surrounded by reeds. The boat has drifted towards the bank. I grab the paddle and row into the dam again. I now realise I have a problem. I can’t put the paddle down to hold the rod or I quickly drift into the reeds. I look around to see what others are doing. The other boat in our vicinity is not moving. “Captain Ahab”, as I label him, is standing in the boat resplendent in fishing gear straight from a whiskey advert, while his wife, I assume, sits comfortably knitting. Over the side is an anchor rope holding them perfectly in place.

Hmm…anchor would have been useful. Feeling more inadequate than ever I hastily throw the rod down and pick up the paddle to perform some emergency manouevres and narrowly avoid colliding with their boat and knocking the captain overboard. (Which would have been quite a satisfactory outcome, actually).

I start preparing Tristan for the inevitable disappointment of not catching anything “as not many fish get caught here” when he yells “Look.! That man’s caught one”. Sure enough Captain Ahab grabs a net and scoops a generously sized Rainbow trout from the water.

OK time to put some distance between us and this fishing-god. I get Tristan to trail the fly in the water behind the boat (I later learn this is highly against the rules of the game) and head off into the middle of the dam where the current is not as strong. After a few minutes of paddling around the island Tristan gets bored and we can head back to shore. As we do so we catch sight of Captain Ahab, net in hand. “HEEEEEYYYYYYY…..’ exclaims Tristan “He’s caught another one”. This time I detect a slightly accusatory note in his voice and a small frown on his little face. Some serious bribery will be needed.