27 December 2014
In the summer months, I often have occasion to fish some tiny streams. I really enjoy those waters. Delicate strands of water, in which any trout that you do succeed in catching, is a miracle of nature. Delicate strands of water Sure, the words “miracle of nature” are over-used, cliched, and bordering on corny, but consider this: We have just come through a spring drought, both in KZN, and the NE Cape. You just have to drive through the Kamberg valley, as I did yesterday, to see that despite all the green grass, the dams are still not full. That
I tidied my tying desk this evening, as I do once in a while. The maid normally remarks favourably when I do this, since she is not allowed to touch. I think the abandon with which I toss around dead birds and animals gets to her. Thing is, when the desk is tidy, I can actually lock the thing, as my brother intended when he made it for me. I have to say though, that I was a little worried. I was worried that it would not close. This anxiety stemmed from the fact that I have been on
When I was a child, my bedroom lead off a small study in our rather strangely designed house. That study was like a staging post between two long passages. One passage lead to the rest of the bedrooms, and the other to the lounge , dining room and kitchen. In that study was a great big desk, at which my mother sat, with her “Facit” adding machine and did the farm accounts. She wound the handle vigorously, ran the lever across with gusto, and punched in numbers until the machine obliged with a delightful little ping, and she could write
It really is a terrible thing to have problems that keep you up at night. Just last week I sat down to tie up a few halo hackle, Klinkhamer style things with grizzly hackle. No I don’t have a name for them. This whole halo hackle concept is a wonderfully South African idea bank, that has been brewing for a while, with several variants around. I seldom tie a batch of flies the same as the last, and each time I fiddle with the pattern, so don’t ask me to name them. Suffice it to say they have a cute
In his book “Fly fishing outside the box”, Peter Hayes says that one needs watchable fish in order to study their behavior. That sounds like an obvious thing to say, but let’s consider it in the South African context: In the Western Cape we have generally clear streams emanating from a rocky landscape. The streambed is often pale, even whitish in colour, and although the slightly brackish water gives the streambed a yellow tinge, you still commonly have many pale areas against which trout spotting opportunities abound. In the Eastern Cape the streams are a bit more inclined to dirty