Lakenvlei: Roughing it with the Fly fisher in the Rye

By Chris Clemes

It all started on the morning of Friday the 13^th, I woke early already on fishing time excited to get under way with preparations for the weekends fishing. There was food to buy, gas to fill up, permits to organize, last minute tackle inspections (which had already been conducted a week before but needed to be done again) and the necessary rallying of the troops. The headless chicken act paid off and our convoy was able to depart at 4.30 pm just half an hour shy of our 4 pm target. I was melancholic even though we were heading on our merry way to Lakenvlei for the weekend I felt somewhat anxious, would we make it in time to fish the evening rise? My sixth sense was to prove correct. As we headed through the toll and up the pass to the Hugenot tunnel we were greeted by a long stream of stationary cars, we were to hear on the radio shortly thereafter that a truck had broken down in our lane of the tunnel bringing traffic to a standstill, eventually after a 35 minute delay we were allowed to pass through, ever hopeful I proceeded at a slightly quicker pace towards our fishing grounds. Having raced the setting sun through the town of Ceres and into the mountains we arrived at the gate, being a very optimistic person I could still picture myself rushing down to the nearest shallows at break rod speed in order get a cast in before total darkness set in, yet again I was to be disappointed, for some reason try as we might the padlock had seized, as arguments broke out over whose turn it was to have a try at un-sticking it and whether to “tap” it with a rock or not, I watched the dam fade into darkness, SO CLOSE!! Finally Phil managed to get the lock unstuck which decided not to give us problems again that weekend of course, possibly it sensed our urgency levels were never again high enough to warrant sticking or it was due to the curse of Friday the 13^th.

Having resigned myself to the fact that my fly would not be joining the real deals at the evening rise I settled for the next best thing and which I enjoy almost as much as fishing, cooking, we proceeded to prepare a delicious supper, I had brought along 3 kilograms of tiger prawns and whilst Jonty a chef friend of mine prepared them to perfection on the braai with a Mozambican peri peri baste and lemon butter, the rest of our group proceeded to prepare themselves some drinks and observe the proceedings in the warmth of the fire. That evening before bed I had the impulse to prepare my float tube and rods for the morning knowing that without this tedious delay before the mornings fishing on my mind I would sleep peacefully.

(Prawn feast, Our happy chef in the background)

(Twilight over Lakenvlei)

As it turned out a little too peacefully in fact, I awoke to the sun shining into my eyes and in shock jumped from the bed grabbed my float tube and equipment and almost sprinted to the dam. The conditions although beautiful to behold were not ideal, a flat calm covered the entire dam speckled with the odd rise yet I proceeded to patrol the drop off from the shallows in my float tube, the water was pristine with a visibility of at least 4 meters, the dam level had risen substantially since my previous visit, as I observed that a large flat concrete slab which had been some 50 meters from the dams edge previously was now about 3 meters deep under the water and clearly visible. I patrolled the drop off with a small zaks nymph for the first half an hour and was about to try a change in fly pattern and technique when suddenly a light breeze began to blow in from the direction of the hut and on my next cast I was rewarded with a spirited rainbow of 16 inches which I decided to keep for breakfast. The rest of the morning was unexciting yet truly relaxing, after paddling to an inlet to the right of the hut which is bordered by deep cliffs I managed to catch another trout of the same size whilst fishing the zaks nymph with a very long leader on a floating line. I wish to mention that I fish with my 2 weight rod under all conditions apart from a veritable tornado and enjoy the added fight and excitement which is to be had from using this light rod as well as the ability to use lighter tippets due to the extra “give” the 2 weight has when compared to heavier rods which means more takes and less snaps especially in these crystal clear conditions.

(The shallows in front of the hut with the cliffs to the right, the dam level has since risen considerably flooding the field in left of the picture)

At around 11 my stomach told me that it was time to head back for brunch and was pleasantly surprised to find that Tanya had been cooking up a storm. I quickly cleaned the trout and smoked it on the fire, it proved to be a delicious accompaniment to our feast of fried bacon, eggs, mushrooms, tomato, pork sausages and flap jacks. We enjoyed our meal on the balcony and commented sarcastically on how tough it was to be roughing it whilst we drank orange juice and coffee; I personally think that I always eat better when I am camping than when I am at home. During brunch I complained to friends that I was fed up with catching the same class of trout I really wanted a “big” one, when I summed it up after all my trips to Lakenvlei I had only ever had around a 1 lb variance in weight between my largest and smallest trout and I thought that it was about time that that all changed in fact I could feel it. Whilst I observed the trout rising in the dam from the balcony with my binoculars I discussed a theory of mine with my friends, I suggested that the majority of rises which we observe are totally random or due to wandering fish but that a few rises if you observe for long enough occur in exactly the same place or pattern as they did before, the period between rises can be as much as half an hour, these I believed to be large trout who had over their lifetime developed some sort of feeding pattern to suit the various conditions of the day. I had observed these patterns before when I used to be a day manager at the Jonkershoek trout farm, from my “office” or the side of the dam I had the opportunity to observe the feeding patterns of a trophy cock fish which lived in the main dam, I would watch this trout circle the dam pausing and rising like clockwork in its various lies, I happened to catch this fish by “accident” one night when I casually threw my fly into the water at my feet whilst observing the dam in front of me to see whether anymore trout were rising, suddenly there was a terrific splash and my line was pulled out of my hand and my rod buckled, I was on, the fish had literally taken the fly from the grass not 20 cm from my feet, I later released this fish but it was then that I realised another aspect of my theory which is that monster trout enter extremely shallow waters to feed.

(Brunch, always a most welcome sight to behold)

After brunch as is customary for my friends and I we had a cold beer on the balcony and discussed the afternoons fishing strategy, I was aware that my friends were keen to go into Ceres to watch the Currie cup final, yet I decided to stay and fish partly because I was not willing to miss another evening rise and because I am a Western Province supporter whose team unfortunately had already been relegated. At around 4.30 my friends headed off to town and I made my way to the inlet to the left of the hut, I decided to continue fishing the zaks nymph and was rewarded on my third cast with another “regular” trout followed by a take on my next cast which I unfortunately missed. I moved to the other side of the inlet and using the same technique caught another “regular” trout, don’t get me wrong I am always happy to catch any trout especially the hard fighting Lakenvlei trout, but I had my heart set on the “big” one today. I proceeded to fish my way along the bank towards the main inlet and observed various rises occurring in the deep water but as far as I was concerned these were “regular” fish I had my eyes set on the shallow grass beds further along the bank near the main inlet where I believed the monsters lurked.

I was standing in knee deep water in the first bay of grass shallows casting over the grass into the main channel when suddenly not one meter away from where I stood there was a huge boil in the water I immediately back peddled out the water and began to fish my way along the bank towards the inlet casting parallel to the bank in this shallow water. As I mentioned before the dam level had risen substantially and had flooded the fields of grass which surrounded the dam, these newly flooded fields serve as shelter to a multitude of trout fingerlings, tadpoles, frogs, dragonfly and damselfly nymphs, the trout patrol the channels in these fields and lie in ambush for unsuspecting prey. I decided to change my fly to a large green woolly worm as I knew this fly would sink slower and allow me to fish just above this thick cover and avoid my having a heart attack every time I got hooked on a piece of grass. I decided my tactic would be to catch the trout as they move out of the grass into the channels therefore retrieving my fly along the edges of the grass beds, as I approached a very small inlet into the dam I noticed a rise in the shallows right next to the far bank, my heart raced, I had a good feeling about this, I proceeded to false cast cursing myself for possibly overdoing it and spooking the fish yet the cast flew true and the woolly worm landed and floated precisely where the rise had occurred, I waited whilst the world seemed to stop spinning, nothing happened suddenly some strange ripples appeared around the fly as if the fish were circling it, I gave the fly a twitch, it rippled the surface and began to sink, suddenly from the shallows to my left a “monster” trout came shoulders out the water and smashed into the fly, what ensued was chaos, in a desperate attempt to free itself of my hook the fish weaved its way in and out of the thick grass beds this led to my line dredging the channel, I would see my line disappearing in the grass in front of me whilst the fish would be leaping 20 meters to my right, what made it more exciting was that I was fishing my 2 weight rod!!! After a tremendous fight I landed a beautiful fat hen fish of 22 inches definitely my largest to date in Lakenvlei.

The sky began to darken and I began to fish my way back to the hut, as I approached the spot where I had earlier seen the boil in the shallows I noticed that there was an incredible amount of activity going on, the frogs were chirping loudly and there were smashing takes happening in the shallows as well as out just beyond the grass beds I frantically began to probe the water with my woolly worm resorting to a fast retrieve to gain the attention of the excited fish in the fading light, this worked and I had two follows with the fish chasing the fly right up to the bank, suddenly I noticed a bow wave making its way along the back of the grass bed towards me I cast just in front of it, saw a swirl struck, nothing, but all was not lost, about 30 seconds later another bow wave made its way towards me from the other direction along the edge of the grass bed, I cast just in front and gave a short strip there was another swirl I struck, the fish was on, it turned and sped out into the dam taking me into my backing, I could feel this fish was large, this time the fight occurred in the channel and I could land the fish on the channel side of the grass bed much to my relief, this fish was a healthy hook jawed cock fish of 22 inches although leaner than the hen it gave a better account of itself, I let him go to fight again another day.

(Large hen in the shallows)

(Large cock fish patrolling the shallows at tnight)

(notice slightly worn lower fin tips, possibly due to foraging in the shallows?)

In a very jovial mood I began to make my way back to the hut, the others had not arrived yet and I was keen to show them the proof of my theory, I was also hoping that they would have been back by now as the hut was unlit and I was hoping there would have been a fire going by now for supper. But as luck would have it as I rounded the last bend I heard their car coming and they caught me and my fish in their headlights as they came round the corner, I was most happy to be greeted by loud shouts and compliments although this was probably due to a combination of the Currie cup final and draught on tap.

That night whilst my friends prepared a lovely lamb and waterblommetjie potjie, I cleaned my fish, it was interesting to note that it still had a few eggs which I considered to be rather late for the season and that its stomach contents contained small fry of around 4 centimetres and more eggs. Over supper and more whisky we discussed our tactics for the following morning, it was decided that we would wake up early and fish the same shallows where I had had my success, we would use woolly buggers to try to imitate the fingerlings and possibly experiment with egg flies in the deeper channels.

The next morning I was awake at 5.30 the sun was beginning to glow in the mountains

(The main inlet)

(Phil, Pieter and Myself after the mornings fishing)

(Beautiful sunset as the action picked up in the shallows)

(The distant inlet prior to the rains)