Wildfly ~ South Africa's home of Fly Fishing

"Scholars have long known that fishing eventually turns men into philosophers. Unfortunately, it is almost impossible to buy decent tackle on a philosopher's salary" Patrick McManus

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The Fishing Report

The Archive: Rio Azul, Imbabala Safari Lodge, Chile, New Zealand, Lake Tanganyika, Bassas da India, Des Roches Island, Farquar aboard the MV Illusions, Barotse Tiger Camp, Chawalo, Neptune Warrior - Trident Tested, Ngwezi Houseboat - Okavango,

Chawalo

We seem to be obsessed with size ……..with every catch we record now being reduced to dimensions

The fact that we express ourselves in pounds rather than kilos gives everyone an indication of the value of size amongst the proud angler and even in the new catch and release age, the yardstick of cm rather than inches gives us away.

The benchmark of 10 pounds in trout is where I first remember it being touted, the quest to bag a double digit specimen! Which was extended to a lot of other fresh water fish caught on fly…….until the Piranha’s cousin became the focus of any fly fisher in the African tropics. 15 initially set the standard, until the 20 pound mark was eclipsed, which had every convert seeking greener pastures on the banks of the Zambezi.

There is no debate about this majestic river containing the most prodigious

populations of tiger fish to be found on our planet, but finding areas that hold large quantities of mature females that match the weight criteria is a challenge. As everyone who has ever flogged any wild river will tell you…….you can either catch lots of fish or land a big fish but you can’t have lots of big fish………..or can you?

If it is trophies you seek, only a few destinations can guarantee a cast in the heavy weight division…….so it took only a hint of an offer from Carel to high tail it to Chawalo. Equipment was tested, provisions double checked, and the fly cupboards pillaged before we flew into the wilderness just above Cahorra Bassa.

The Zambezi forms a fascinating system in Mozambique. From it’s confluence of the Luangwa river it broadens out without losing too much depth, as the flow rates deposit new sediment, molding the river bed and creating a maze of channels and habitat ideally suited to our striped water dog.The delta meandering into the lake is as unique as it is daunting, there is just so much water and even more structure making the task of finding the fish seem impossible. Yet with the waters protected through a sustainable utilization program in the Chawalo concession area, we we’re assured of a shot at Tommy the trophy tiger.

Having fished a great deal of the course of this river, we’ve seen a wide variety of techniques employed to entice tigers to the fly, many contradicting each other…but all successful in their own area….so our approach is horses for courses……..but always listen to the trainer!In this neck of the woods it’s all about your drift and a slow strip that in any other circumstance would be beyond a tease

Arno Matte gave us a breakdown of the lay of the land beneath the boat, directing my efforts in terms of cast and by way of example put one of his SF minnows on the spot.
There’s nothing like seeing a first cast yield a behemoth to get your fly stripping through the water…….it converts a non believer quicker than seeing someone walk on water I can tell you.But then you tend to start casting a little too much, hauling your line too frantically

And to stop me in my tracks…Arno subtly placed his next cast along the seam of the channel, swinging it right into the zone. This was a term that was to be ingrained into my every waking cast……the strike zone is the be all and very often end all of fishing.

Two double digit specimens within moments is the start to a session that you dream about….and so the casting continued……..with entertaining results.

Protea fly fisher Tim Babich was relishing a break from his guiding regiment to throw his electric blue whistler at the waiting dogs. But it was the striped water puppy that got to the bone first………..unperturbed he threw another morsel underneath the reed beds…..and that’s when the hound came bounding out the kennel, resulting in him netting a beautiful 12 pound specimen.

Professional fly fishing guides are always fascinating characters as diverse as the species they target. So it was with a large degree of interest that we watched the guides demonstrate how to land these behemoths. Paul Boyers is a young man whose appearance belies his years on the water and he didn’t take long to notch up the target for his fellow guides, with a 13 pound specimen. This is guy who was borne to fish.

I had of course rashly thrown down the gauntlet but had wisely stacked my cards by appealing to Arno’s charitable side in having him be my guide for the duration. Always pay attention to what your guide is saying and showing you, is a lesson that you need to beat into yourself if necessary, as we all like to think that we know what we’re doing. Yet when you stop to study the direction and technique of a seasoned pro and witness him pluck 7 pounders from where he predicted, you start to hang on his every word.

And that’s when I got a taste of what the fleeing baitfish endure every day of their lives

There are instances in every anglers life where you question your fishing faith and ultimate fate…….and as a firm believer in….all good things come to he whose fly remains in the water……. I pondered the elements of chance and worried about which deities I had forgotten to pay my respects to.

But you should only dwell momentarily on what could have been and for once I wasn’t disappointed to have the setting sun drive us back to camp. The following morning, once more brimming with enthusiasm we took the time to get a closer look at the new patterns that were turning these fish on.

Paul set about the task in predictable fashion, having strapped up his own variation of the infallible whistler pattern. Which prompted Dereck Manson to reacquaint himself with a particularly viscous striped water dog …………which proved to be no walk in the park.

And I continued the struggle to keep anything on my leash.

Typically as I fiddled with my line, the Geezer had his ripped through his hands, sure to leave a scar or two to remember it by.I was torn between my frustration at blowing the opportunities presented and the privilege of seeing such a specimen released.

It’s not often that you come away from a trip having not caught a single fish but feeling a better angler for it.

Chawalo is undoubtedly home to legendary beasts.