After a quick coffee stop we were soon descending into the Umkomaas valley. It was a chilly 10 degrees when my car started pulling to the left and I was forced to pull over. As I feared my front left tyre was flat and so began my first ever tyre change in the Fortuner.

Apparently you’re meant to lower the tyre using a meter long tool which you insert into a slot in the boot. Problem 1 – the tool is stored in sections which require a screwdriver to assemble and the tool kit provided doesn’t contain a screwdriver. Fail! Anyway, after trying to thumb tighten these screws and nearly losing section of the tool into the innards of my car, I remembered that my  fishing Gerber has a screw driver on it.

Rather than getting us moving this just introduced a new problem – how do you align a meter long tool, through a tiny slot (no giggling or comments boys), with a tiny groove, completely blind? A fiddly few minutes later, having used several phones as torches, I finally connected and managed to lower the tyre.

Jacking up the car ran smoothly and soon I had the flat tyre off the vehicle. Surely this was the end of it and we’d be fishing soon? Sadly not! Having got the flat tyre off the vehicle we quickly realised that the car was not jacked high enough off the ground to put on the fully inflated tyre. Problem number 3; after further cranking the jack to it’s maximum height the tyre still didn’t fit on. Realising this was since the car was parked on a steep downhill, and that the weight of the car was therefore on the front tyres, we needed to move the car to flatter ground. This meant putting the flat tyre back on and driving down the hill to a more level section.

Problem 4; with the flat wheel back on I started to lower the car only to discover that the jack was now stuck in position. I was physically unable to lower the car. It seemed the jack had been extended too far and had come off it’s thread. Now we were truly stuck and I was left wondering what my options were. My first idea was to dig a hole under the wheel so that I could get the spare tyre on. This however wouldn’t help with lowering the vehicle. Plan 2 was to push the car off the jack. This could however cause damage and the car and as it was still on 3 wheels would be tough.

Finally I remembered the other car and we fetched Keegan’s jack. The plan was to lift the car higher using his jack, thus allowing us to remove my jack. It seemed like a good plan until we discovered that his jack was far smaller and couldn’t extend high enough to even touch the chassis. After a little pondering we found a large rock and mounted the jack on top of it. This allowed us to jack the car up higher, and to get my jack out. It also meant the car was now high enough to get the spare wheel on. The only problem was that the rock was cracking under the weight so we were forced to work under time pressure. None the  less we got the job done and were finally back on the road.

Five minutes later we arrived at Hella Hella, paid the rod fee, and headed for the river. Paul and Tom had waited patiently and were busy brewing fresh espressos when we arrived. We kitted up our rods and cleaned the oil off our hands while they sipped lazily on their coffee. And then we finally headed down to the river.

A nice view of the Umkomaas

Knowing the beat better this time we headed further downstream before beginning the fishing. The water was lower and clearer than the month before, and it clearly made fishing more difficult. All the usual spots were dead, with no signs of fish. In fact an hour in none of us had had so much as a bump. I was beginning to think that perhaps the tyre incident was going to be the most excitement we had all day.

Eventually we decided to regroup and sat down to a small snack and more freshly brewed espressos (well, Paul and Tom did anyway). With the river being lower than before the new plan was to go in search of bigger and deeper pools. This led us further downstream and we soon found ourselves on new water and, better yet, deeper water.

Keegan was the first to reach the new water and got into a few nice scallies fishing off the cliffs of the deeper pool. Soon the rest of us were in on the action and within 30 minutes we’d all landed multiple fish. Well, everyone except for poor Tom who was battling away with no luck.

My first fish came midway down the pool where I leaned out over the edge and the cliff and somehow manage to cast around a corner and into a pocket of water protected by reeds. Almost instantly I saw the tip of my line pull slowly underwater and I struck, sadly too late as I lost the fish. I put in a second perfect cast and thankfully landed a beauty of a fish seconds later.

Paul and I then decided to rest the pool and headed further downstream where we found even more pristine water, and picked up a handful more fish. The rest of the boys sat at the main pool where I assume they made pigs of themselves.

An hour later we rejoined the group who were still targeting the pool, although things had slowed substantially. Sadly Tom was still without a fish as we sat down for lunch. He enjoyed yet another cup of coffee (yes, I’m jealous) and then started flicking his fly in front of us as we relaxed on the banks. Thankfully he connected with a fish and was on the board, It was his first ever Natal scaly.

I then decided to call it a day and headed home, leaving the rest of the boys plugged away for more fish (I believe successfully).

Releasing a Natal scaly

I’d wondered the whole drive about the water level after a season of low rainfall. When I got to the water’s edge it was immediately obvious just how low the river was. My mind rushed back to a session on the Umzimkulu earlier in the season where I hadn’t even seen a fish, and my concerns that the drought had hit the rivers hard grew. On the up-side I immediately spotted two fish cruising in a pool and was quickly distracted from my negative thoughts. I decided to let the fish relax for a while longer and continued on downstream, making note of the their position for later when I’d approach from a better position downstream.

For the first hour I didn’t manage to raise any fish to the fly, although I did spook a fish or two from unexpected lies in extremely shallow water. When I reached the 2 fish I had spotted earlier I put in a few perfect, drift free casts, none of which produced the slightest interest. I even downsized to 7x tippet and smaller flies in the hope of improving my luck. It did not.

Warren enjoying views of the Bushman’s River

The fish appeared to be more skittish than usual, perhaps due to the low water levels throughout what should have been the rainy season. I quietly questioned myself on how many fish had died due to the low levels, heat, or even the limited shelter the fish currently had from predators. The fry especially must’ve taken a big knock.

Thankfully, as the sun lowered in the sky, I managed to pick up a few small fish in one of the larger pools. They rose to a small elk hair caddis drifted under the shelter of overhanging bushes. Their small size didn’t matter in the  least as each of them felt like a major victory over the harsh conditions. It was a trip worth having made.

It’s worth noting that we spent the weekend in the mountain view chalets at Giant’s Castle, which were a tad disappointing. We generally do at least one visit to the park a year and it’s therefore sad to note that its seen a steady decline over the years. The thatch on the chalets was aging and falling out in places. The table and chairs were faded and needed a coat of varnish to protect them from the elements. The sliding door was sticking and nearly impossible to open. Although not major issues they did have a sting since we were charged R45 for a rock shandy, and R25 for a can of beer. At those prices I’d expect the maintenance to be far better.

That said they were working on one or two chalets, and the staff at both the check in counter and in the restaurant were exceptional with massive smiles on their faces and jokes in hand. I can only hope that they plough some of the money back into the venue so that it returns to it’s former glory. It’s far from down and out, but now’s the time to act.

We had a little hiccup getting there as we made use of Google Maps rather than following the sign I’d seen on so many occasions. This saw us taking the second Coleford road rather than the first and then left us guessing when we crossed the Umzimkulu with no lodge in sight. After driving backwards and forwards for ten minutes with no cellphone signal to be rescue us, we headed back to the main road and called the lodge for help. They apologised profusely, explaining that someone had incorrectly marked their location on Google Maps and that they’d been unable to change it. After giving us the correct directions we swiftly found the lodge and were greeted warmly upon arrival.

As the name suggests the lodge is located on the Umzimkulu River (which is what I was most excited about) with enough luxury for the ladies and adventure for the men. There are 8 cottages on site (named after the various Kingfisher species) ranging in size from the small Pied and Pigmy cottages, to the large Giant Cabin overlooking Thrombosis Gorge.

The Umzimkulu River Lodge

When we saw the activities which were on offer we were sad to have left Emma at home. There was a petting zoo for the kids, along with a good selection on jungle gyms, and a games room. There was also a small plunge pool complete with a tame duck enjoying the cool water in the midday heat. For the bigger kids there was a small putt-putt course and tubing down the river. And finally for the even bigger kids there was a driving range, hiking to the gorge, fly fishing, a restaurant overlooking the river, and a bar complete large screen TVs. We were truly spoiled for choice.

Our unit, Pied A, was a beautiful little cottage which consisted of two floors. The ground floor consisted of a small kitchenette, an open plan dinning room and a couch in front of a small fireplace. While upstairs there was a bedroom with a large double bed, a shower, and a large bath that overlooked the river. There was of course also a small garden, filled with sunbirds, and a braai place to suite all South African’s needs.

There were only 2 downsides to our cottage. Firstly the stairs were so steep that I’d consider them a ladder (it certainly wouldn’t have been suitable for Emma or granny). And secondly the walls were paper thin and our neighbours for the weekend were anything but quiet.

We spent the midday heat sharing the pool with a duck and chatting to the manager and owner who were extremely down to earth and welcoming. I then headed out with my fly rod for what I was hoping to be my first session in the river. I walked downstream to the start of Thrombosis Gorge and then climbed into the river and started fishing back towards the lodge. The water level was good which was surprising amidst the ongoing drought. That said there had been some recent rains which had raised the level, but which had also left the water murky and off colour.

Fishing was tough and I hadn’t so much as seen a fish as I approached the lodge an hour later. What I had however managed to do was to dunk myself neck deep in water when I stepped off a ledge into a hole without noticing it. Thankfully my phone, which was in the upper pock of my fly vest, seemed to survive the ordeal and so I continued on happily. I bypassed the section in front of the lodge and finally called it a day at the bridge as darkness fell. Sadly I hadn’t had so much as a touch, but the section looked magnificent and is certainly worth another fish.

Relaxing with Puddles

That evening, while braaiing, I heard a scream from our bedroom. Sharon had gone to fetch something from upstairs only to discover a bat circling the room. I may not have been able to catch a trout, but my trusty net came to my aid and soon I’d landed my first ever bat which as safely released on the lawn. My phone meanwhile decided that the water was too much for it and gave up the ghost, thus ruining an otherwise great day.

The next morning I tried to change my luck by heading for Lake Ringstead with Sharon. She relaxed on the bank reading while I took out my new Xplorer Journey Deluxe. It was a hot day, and the water was low, warm and off colour. That said I felt confident I’d manage to produce at least one trout to end my weekend’s dry spell. I fished hard for two hours, circling the dam and trying everything from the deep, cooler water to the weedy shallows. Sadly neither of these strategies produced fish and I eventually called it a day as the sun rose high into the sky.

With neither the river nor the dam producing trout, Sharon and I headed into Himeville and had a much needed lunch at a small coffee shop. The tough fishing, as well as the onset of flu, had clearly gotten the better of me and I gave up on my healthy eating plan for long enough to enjoy a fantastic scone. We then headed back to the lodge where we decided to try a few of the other activities on offer.

The plan was to “hike” into Thrombosis Gorge. Having done a fair stretch of this walk the previous day while fishing, and knowing there was a concrete path, neither Sharon nor I decided to put on shoes. Big mistake! Firstly an afternoon storm meant that every ant in the world had left it’s nest and had gathered on the path. So what started as a relaxing walk fast became an agonising jog as we were eaten from the ankles up. We then reached the gorge, which meant climbing over a stile before starting a tough rocky section sans path. The slops once again came into play as I slipped off the top and cut my arm open as I tumbled to the ground. The swearing that followed was made somewhat more awkward when a crowd of fellow hikers popped up from behind a rock.

Thrombosis Gorge

Now in the gorge we made use of the well laid out ladders and ropes to navigate to a large flat rock where we relaxed amidst waterfalls and took photos. Despite my bleeding arm and itching ankles it was well worth the walk.

The next day, as we drove back to Durban, I was left thinking that perhaps the fisherman’s honeymoon curse also applies Valentine’s Day. I’d caught no fish, broken a phone, been attacked by bats, and had gashed open my arm. On the flip side I’d had eat fun doing it, and would do it again.

Considering everything on offer, both at the lodge and nearby, I’d certainly recommend this venue to everyone from fisherman to photographer, and even those just looking for a place to relax. Take the kids, or leave them at home; either way you’re going to love your stay.

As it turned out Andrew and Richard weren’t doing too much better, and we all arrived at Turner’s Cottage at around 11am. Being close to midday I wasn’t expecting much from the fishing, but it was great to finally be on the water. I started my assault close to the wall thinking the fish would be holding deep with the sun overhead. This proved to be unsuccessful and I eventually decided on a strategy change and kicked to the shallows at around 12pm. Strangely this seemed to be the answer and I landed 4 good fish within 10 casts, with 3 of them weighing in at over 2kgs.

From Turner’s Cottage we headed to our usual accommodation, Twin Springs, where we unpacked our bags and grabbed a quick bite to eat. We then climbed back into the cars and headed for Trelevans 2 for a short afternoon session. Fishing was tough but I managed to land a few small trout in my usual corner. Neill also got a few fish but sadly the Thompson brothers struggled. As I said, going was tough.

That evening we had a quick beer at the Himeville Arms before heading back to our cottage for the usual braai. Amazingly we managed to behave ourselves – well, more than usual – perhaps due to the looming committee meeting early the next morning.

Sunrise at Twin Springs

The following morning Neill and I met up with Alan, Spurge, and the rest of the UHTFC committee at the Himeville Arms. It was a short, informal meeting over breakfast but was great to be involved. The food was good, the meeting was valuable, and the banter was lively. That said we didn’t hang around for too long as there was fishing to be done.

From the Himeville Arms we headed to Finelands where I was glad to see that the weed had died back over the winter months. In summer this water is often only fishable directly in front of the launch site, while we were lucky enough to have the entire dam available to us. Fishing was again tough with only a few small rainbows coming to hand amongst the 4 of us. The water quality was great and the temperatures were right, so perhaps we just had an off morning. Either that or the fish outfoxed us again.

After a quick lunch we decided to try an afternoon session at North End. Neill always sells this water as one of his favourites, while I’m yet to pluck a good fish from it. That said I do love it thanks mainly to the beautiful thatch lapa on the water’s edge. Again fishing was slow and we only produced 4 or 5 fish between us before being blown off the water by a strong westerly.

Up until this point it had been another great boys weekend, but sadly Andrew was still fish-less. We therefore spent the last evening enjoying a few beers around the fire and carefully deciding on our final water. Where could we go to ensure we all walked away from the weekend with at least one fish?

Richard with a nice trout

Alan shot to the rescue by offering us his dam for our final morning session. I walked up to the water’s edge upon arrival and was immediately amazed by the clarity. There was a pipe pumping water in close to the launch site and it was immediately obvious that the fish were enjoying the man made inlet. We were all set!

Neill was first into the water and picked up a lovely bow on just his second cast. Richard and I were close behind and had soon picked up a few fish of our own. Andrew however continued to struggle as the day rolled on. And then, just as we were readying ourselves to kick to the shore, Andrew connected with a fish. He played it skillfully for a few minutes before landing what was definitely the fish of the day.

With everyone smiling from ear to ear we called it a day, packed up the cars, and headed for home.

Andrew with the fish of the day

With Nick, a key Baha Boy and team member, having left SA for Australia I was forced to relook at Team Baha for the 2015 event. Neill and Bruce had both secured their places after dominating the 2014 festival, which meant there was just 1 space left to full. Coxy’s mom might have prevented him from coming and Alan was down at Hole In The Wall. This saw me approaching Dave from the South Coast, who is a solid salt water fly fisherman.

I only managed to get away from the office late on Friday which meant that the other three had already arrived and registered by the time I entered the Boston Club, just after 8pm. The beers were flowing, but it did seem a tad quieter than previous years. Perhaps this was just due to Nick’s absence, which also accounted for the smaller fire. We were given our usual measuring stick (for the fish you fools), as well as a jacket, a few flies, and our water allocations.

Star Dam, Boston

Sadly we weren’t lucky enough to secure a spot on McKenzies 1, but we did manager to land McKenzies 2 which was apparently fished less and showed good promise. We also drew Star Dam and Rivendell, both of which we had fished in previous years and had done us well. Our fourth water was Meadow Farm which was new to us and we knew very little about. All in all it looked to be a promising mix of old and new.

That night we were well controlled in the bar and, after a fantastic meal cooked by the farmers wives, made it back to our cottage just after 10pm. I’ll again reiterate what I’ve said every year. This festival is something special thanks entirely to the Boston locals. The farmers selflessly open their homes for the anglers to sleep in, and their wives work tirelessly to feed the masses through fantastic home cooked dinners, and breakfast and lunch packs. The vibe is relaxed, and the fishing is good. What more could you ask for?

The next morning we headed for our first water, Star Dam, at around 6:30am. We were sharing it with another team but were the first to arrive. Rather than rush onto the water we kitted up slowly and dished out a few home tied flies among the team. The other group arrived just in time to see us kicking onto the water, and getting into fish almost immediately. It had begun!

Star Dam fished well with all of us picking up a good bag of trout. The majority were stockies in the 35 – 40cm range, but we did get a few nice fish of 50cm+, with Dave making a pig of himself just before climbing out. It was a good start to the festival and I was left wondering if it was due to the slightly warmer temperatures. In fact, that morning I’d seen only a sprinkling of frost in one of the valley’s, whereas in the previous year’s session on Star Dam the reeds were frozen.

Dave landing a nice rainbow trout at Star Dam

After enjoying our lunch on the waters edge (while our tubes dried) we packed up the cars and headed for Rivendell. This is when the real fun started. As we pulled up to the gate Dave was quick to inform us that it was locked. Flashbacks of the 2014 festival sprung to mind as I remembered how we were locked into this same water and were forced to knock over the fence to get out.

On this occasion however, being midday, Bruce and Neill headed to a group of nearby houses where they found a staff member to help us out. He didn’t have a key but instead showed us a section of the fence which we could detach and drive though. Although we were now in, this was somewhat frustrating as we’d wasted close to an hour of fishing time. I guess the golden lining was that it was at least during the midday “heat”.

Once inside we quickly made our way onto the water with most of the gents heading for the deep wall section, while I kicked for the inlet. Fishing was tough and by the time I reached the inlet, which is a long stretch that took me close to an hour, I’d not had so much as a touch. Thankfully the inlet changed that and after a short battle with a stockie I was on the board. I then fished my way along the far bank, which was steeper and deeper, to my teammates up at the wall. Again this produced not even a bump.

The boys at the wall had also been struggling with just a stockie or two coming to hand. Amazingly things then changed, either when I put on a red fly, or when the sun began to dip. None the less the water suddenly came alive and we all landed multiple good fish in the 40 – 55cm range. One of them gave me such a good run I was convinced it was at least 10lbs, and worthy of the fish of the trip. It ran me well into backing multiple times, forcing me to yell out with joy. Sadly I didn’t get the last laugh as, when I finally got the fish to hand with Neill close-by to photograph the beast, I discovered it was merely a 50cm rainbow which I’d foul hooked in the tail.

Warren landing a trout at Star Dam

After enjoying a solid last hour we headed back to the shore and polished off a cold beer or two while packing away our kit. Darkness was fast approaching and we knew we had to wangle our way through the fence, so we didn’t linger for too long. Fence one proved little challenge having done it earlier, but then we hit an unexpected surprise – the next farm gate was locked, and this fence was as solid as a rock.

Sadly none of us had cell reception, and we were a long way from the club, so it was time to make a plan. On paper our first idea seemed good. Put a tyre iron through the lock, and twist it until the lock snaps. Unfortunately my ropey arms didn’t have the strength, nor did Neill’s, Dave’s or Bruce’s. So we moved onto plan two, and began cutting through the lock with the file on a trusty Leatherman. Much to my amazement this proved to be successful (albeit slow) and 10 minutes later we’d cut through the lock and were on our way.

After a quick shower we made it to the club, just in time to log our catches. Once again a fantastic meal was put on by the locals, and we then enjoyed the standard tales of the day from the other fishermen. On a whole it sounded like everyone had done well, although no monster fish had been produced. Again we slinked off relatively early and enjoyed a few sherries around a roaring fire in our cottage, before heading off to bed.

Escaping the waters after being locked in

Early the next morning we headed for Meadow Farm, a water than none of us knew anything about. It was a small water to say the least, beautifully located against a forest of pines. Sadly it was heavily weeded, although it did have some nice channels which had good potential to hold fish. Despite being a beautiful water, it was perhaps a little too small for a team of four fisherman. In fact sitting in the middle I could cast to all 4 banks with relative ease.

Bruce and Dave elected to fish off the banks, while Neill and I got onto the water in our tubes. I was lucky enough to get into a small fish on about my 10th cast, while the rest of the boys struggled until well after 10am when everyone finally got into a fish or two. It was actually an amazing dam to fish as you could see the bottom the entire way across. This meant, by paying a little attention, you could spot fish and direct the boys on the water as to where to cast.

From Meadow Farm we headed to what we were hoping to be our best water of the weekend – McKenzies 2. McKenzies 1 had done well for us in the past with all anglers picking up 10+ fish per session. Dam 2 was apparently even better as it was fished far less frequently, but stocked equally as well. Word on the street was that while it generally produced fewer fish, it produced bigger fish.

It took a little 4x4ing but the view that awaited us was well worth the effort. McKenzies 2 is a large water, located in a valley with a sunken forest near the inlet. It has good structure, deep and shallow water, and more than enough space for 4 anglers to enjoy. The Maclear team were busy packing away and spoke of good catches in the 50 – 60cm range.

Bruce with a nice rainbow trout

Excited after a tough morning session we got quickly onto the water. Sadly the fishing was tougher than expected and at 3pm we all gathered on the bank fishless. We had a quick snack, refueled and regrouped, and then got back onto the water.

Thankfully the late afternoon session was more productive with Bruce, Neill and Dave all getting into fish. I on the other hand was less lucky and struggled until 5pm without a touch. The wind had picked up and just staying in one spot was difficult, but I was determined not to blank. As is often the case, I amazingly got into a fish just as I was kicking back to the shore. It took a fly deep and slow and headed for the horizon at great speed. It certainly felt like my fish of the trip but, after a long fight, it slipped off  my barbless hook as I lost concentration netting it.

I sadly met the rest of the boys on the bank and we packed up for the last time. As darkness fell we headed for our cottage to freshen up prior to prize giving. And then the unexpected happened – we discovered that we’d been locked in again. While I saw the funny side, some of my team members were less than excited. Thankfully we had cellphone reception on this occasion and managed to get hold of the organisers to come open the gate. Since they were roughly half an hour away we relaxed under the stars, and shared some much needed whiskey from a hip flask. Getting locked in wasn’t bad at all.

Warren Prior with a good rainbow trout

Having lost a lot of time we weren’t able to head home for a shower, and were instead forced to shoot straight to the club in our wet gear. Thankfully we arrived just in time to have a quick drink before sitting down to dinner and prize giving.

Prize giving was short and painless as is the norm with this festival, and I was lucky enough to come away with an Xplorer peak. Sadly, for the first time in 3 years, we didn’t place. But then it’s not a festival that’s about the prizes; it really is about the vibe and spirit, which were once again spectacular.

Amazingly the pub was at its rowdiest that night, perhaps at the peril of a few fishermen who’d brought their girlfriends with to join in the festivities. Shots flowed a plenty and there was dancing on the bar, as well as a few activities I simply can’t mention here. All in all it was a great end to yet another amazing event. As I say every time, we’ll be definitely be back next year!

I took the Friday off with the plan of heading to the Berg after my wife had left for the office. It was a good plan on paper, but fell apart when I tried to get my fly rods out of the garage after my wife had left for work. I soon discovered that she’d taken both garage door remotes with her. FAIL! Thirty frustrating minutes later I manager to work out how to override the automatic door and finally freed my rods. Then came the next piece of bad news, Andrew’s car had broken down and Neill had had to go and fetch him. They would therefore only get to Underberg closer to lunch time.

On the up side, Dave was already on the road so we both set our sights on the Grange and ventured forth. I arrived shortly after 9am and started kitting up my rods. This was when I experienced my third (and thankfully final) piece of bad luck; while putting on a new fly line (after my Bend disaster) I somehow managed to create a knot that took me close to 45 minutes to untangle. The water was already warm and the heat of the day was fast approaching. My frustration was quickly growing and I was itching to get onto the water before it was too late.

Our first water, the Grange

Finally ready, I kicked out onto the glassy water just after 10am. The air temperature was close to 30 degrees and the water was probably at around 22 degrees – far too warm for trout. Amazingly I got into a fish (of just over 1kg) on just my fourth or fifth cast. Perhaps I wasn’t too late onto the water after all?!

Dave then arrived and quickly joined me on the water. Sadly my first fish was not the sign I was hoping for and we fished hard for the next two hours without so much as a knock. At around 1pm I was lucky enough to pick up a second fish, just before Neill and Andrew arrived. We kicked to the edge to greet them, had a quick beer, and then decided to do our shopping and head to the cottage. I was meanwhile lambasted for not tying my 5 flies for the weekend (that we’d apparently all agreed to do). This was accompanied by threats of severe fines consisting of flavoured tequila later in the evening.

After a quick shop we unloaded our gear at Twin Springs and then planned for the afternoon session. We opted to fish Trelevans 2 which had produced some good fish for us in the past, and is always worthy of a visit while in Underberg.

We arrived at the dam at roughly 3:30pm and got straight onto the water. It was slightly murky but not so much that I was worried. I was however once again concerned with the temperature which was far too warm. Fishing was slow and I was extremely lucky to hook into a lovely 2.5kg rainbow hen just as the sun was setting. She was exceptionally strong and quickly took me into backing before I managed to net her. The rest of the boys battled and sadly all left the water empty handed. I guess I therefore rubbed some salt into the wounds when I hooked another fish just meters from the shore on my last cast of the day.

Warren with a nice fish from Trelevans 2

That evening got a little out of hand as is expected on the first night. It all began with Alan pilling a weeks worth of wood onto the braai, which meant that the fire was only ready to cook on at close to 11pm. We therefore filled the time with glasses (yes, glasses, not shots) of tequilla. One thing led to another and, although we braaied the meat, nobody ate any dinner before we collapsed into bed in the early hours of the morning.

The next day everyone was feeling a little ropey. Neill and I had a committee meeting at 9am so I climbed into my car and headed off alone to get in a few hours fishing before the meeting. By 7am I was on the water (Lake Ringstead) and managed to land one small fish. The rest of the boys arrived just before 9am, which meant that Neill only fished for around 10 minutes before we climbed out and headed to the Himeville Arms.

The informal committee meeting went well, although the best part of it was perhaps the greasy egg and bacon breakfast after the night before. With all club matters resolved Neill and I headed back to the cottage to wait for the afternoon session. We were joined shortly by Andrew and Dave who had sadly blanked once again. Clearly the conditions and high water temperatures were making fishing tough.

I think Dave was starting to lose hope after hours of flogging the water for no fish. He therefore decided to give the afternoon session a skip while the rest of us headed to Turner’s 5.

As we kitted up on the water’s edge we could see a large storm brewing in the distance. Wind and rain I can handle, but lightning is not something to mess with while holding a fly rod. We therefore climbed back into the cars and sat in the pouring rain as the beast passed overhead.

Dave fishing Turner’s Cottage

Thankfully it didn’t last more than 10 minutes and before we knew it we were throwing our kit over the fence and readying ourselves for another tough session.

There was a single strand of electric wire on the fence, but Alan had assured us it was off. I decided to test his word and touched it quickly with a sharp jab. Having not been shocked on this first attempt I touched it again, this time a bit more bravely, and got the shock of my life.  While doing my “I’ve just been electrocuted” dance I slowly became aware of the raucous laughter around me. Suddenly I felt less guilty about being the only person to catch fish on the trip.

Finally in the water, albeit a little tingly, we got down to our fourth session. The water was again murky and perhaps felt even warmer (although this could have been due to cold weather overhead).

The session was relatively quite and again I was the only person to produce a fish, although this time it was a small stockie which I worked exceptionally hard for.

As the sun set we climbed out of the water and headed back to Twin Springs for another evening around the fire. This time we were more careful and even managed to enjoy some of the chicken we bought from the local Spar. The beers went down that little bit slower and we were all in bed shortly after 10pm.

Sunday morning was to be the last session of the trip and we therefore thought long and hard about which water to fish. Neill, Andrew and Dave were yet to produce and time was fast running out. We eventually settled on Turner’s Cottage as it had never let us down in the past.

Andrew and I headed across as early as possible, while Neill buggered around in the house as per usual. We were on the water and fishing by 7am, but had not even had a knock when Dave and Neill arrived an hour later. I targeted all the usual spots but continued to battle until I eventually got into a trout at around 10am. Shortly after that I lost another fish to a short battle. Again the other boys toiled and were left empty handed when we climbed out of the water just before lunch.

It was a tough trip with just 7 fish coming to hand from our 3 days of “hard work”. The water temps were a bit high and most of the waters were murky. Are these excuses? Perhaps. Are they valid? I don’t know. What I do know is that it was the toughest fishing I’ve ever experienced in Underberg. That said I’ll soon be back to put things right.