OF FLY FISHING, DROUGHT AND FLOODS by Miles Divett
The 2010/11fly fishing season, at least up until the end of the first week in February, has been hard on those of us who ply our passion for trout on the rivers of the Southern Bergs (the term Southern Bergs here encompassing both the KwaZulu Southern Berg and the “real” Southern Berg of the North Eastern Cape). Minimal winter snowfalls and an horrific early season drought left the rivers seemingly bereft of life, well into December. And then, once the rains finally arrived in December, they did so with a vengeance, swelling the rivers over their banks, causing major floods and pouring tons of topsoil into the river systems and turning them into churning brown torrents, unfishable for weeks on end.
There have been moments of respite, and especially on the larger rivers with enough holding water to protect the trout in the worst of the drought months – rivers such as the uMzimkhulu in KZN and the Lower Bell/Kraai system around Rhodes – but then the rains came, and in January in particular with a consistency and relentlessness that was monsoon-like. We fly fisherman were again left contemplating our navels, for weeks on end.
The effects of the drought seem to have been worse in KZN than in the Eastern Cape, and the smaller rivers in KZN seem to have lost their better fish. Fortunately, there was a reasonable winter spawn, and small fish were apparent until the onset of the monsoons, since when they gone into hiding. They will reappear, and hopefully provide a base for next year’s fishing, but the population of better fish seems to have largely decimated in these smaller rivers. The situation in the rivers around Rhodes is much better. Not only was there a good winter spawn in many of the rivers, but against all odds decent populations of the better fish managed to survive the drought. This became evident in early February, when the rivers finally cleared and dropped sufficiently to enable us fly fisherfolk to venture forth once again. And as I speak, many of the Rhodes’ rivers are offering wonderful fishing, in rivers which have been scoured clean by all the rain. There is now light at the end of a long and dark tunnel.
So how have we, the river fly fisherfolk, coped in the face of all this adversity? What have we done to fill what would normally have been avid fishing time? What effect has there been on our individual psyches? Have we been permanently scarred, or is the damage simply a temporary thing?
What follows is a light-hearted examination of these and related questions. It should not be taken too seriously (even though some of it may be true) because, if taken too seriously, certain aspects may offend some people. Of course, if any offence is taken, the problem rests with the person concerned, not with me, a mere observer and scribe. But it would be far better to keep everything light and thereby avoid such problems at first instance.
To consider such issues, one needs to understand something of the animal that is the river fly fisher. In my experience, this animal is at best fanatical regarding his or her pastime; more troublingly perhaps, many are obsessive; and at worst (this not necessarily being a rare thing), this obsession moves into the terrain of full-blown obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Now I’m no psychologist, but the dividing line between all of these is a fine one, and in times of stress such as we have had to endure for the past 5 months, these lines can be (and I’m sure have been) crossed. How have we coped?
Well, I’m pretty certain that we all started off in the early season, drought notwithstanding, going fishing as if things were entirely normal. Only, they weren’t – we were faced with rivers pared to their bones, a paucity of fish, deoxygenated waters, rampant algae and a host of other horrible things. I know it depressed me big-time, and I’m sure others were similarly affected. We love our rivers because they are things of joy and life and energy, and we are saddened when they are under severe strain. In the face of such conditions, many of us take to our fly tying vices, and start churning out copious nymphs and dry flies “for when things get better”. Drought conditions tend to lead us more towards tying dry flies than nymphs, I would think, given the low and clear state of the rivers. So we tie flies, because that seems to be the next best thing to actually fishing. But please, most of us (not all, so apologies to you Ed) can only tie so many flies before we become afflicted by other things – severe lower back aches from sitting at non-Posturepedic chairs; eye strain from tying ever more minute dries; repetitive strain disorder form doing repetitive things; dare I say it, boredom, because fly tying is not fishing and we want to fish, and so on.
Then, when drought turns to floods and we are faced with monsoon-like rains, we do the same thing again, but with a difference. We turn away from tying dries and buy in copious quantities of large balls of tungsten, and we tie nymphs with enough tungsten weighting to knock ourselves out if our casting goes awry. And if we can actually find a clean stretch of river, we Czech nymph madly, clumsily lobbing these weighty creations into the rivers while trying to avoid serious injury. But then the rains return, the rivers turn brown, and we are back to looking for alternatives. By this stage, of course, our fly boxes are full both of dries and weighted nymphs, and the imperative and urge to tie more has waned. Alternative Activity No 1 has by then become a drag.
Many river fly fisherfolk will then turn to fishing literature, seeking solace for their enforced confinement in the pages of books and magazines, reading of the past fishing glories of other folk in other parts of the world, poring over photographs and articles of huge trout caught in New Zealand or Alaska or Argentina or Alberta or Montana, all the while wishing, wishing, wishing. Before long, however, this too starts to pall. The major reason, for most of us, is that this just reinforces the need and desire to fish, and we can’t. The other reason is that these destinations are simply unaffordable for the vast majority of folk, and ultimately represent nothing more than an unattainable wishlist, which causes its own stresses and frustrations. Alternative Activity No 2 has then also become a drag.
The same considerations apply to Alternative Activity No 3, watching fishing programmes on TV. Firstly, the fishing coverage on our TV channels does not provide overmuch solace for the river trout fiends that we are. They tend to focus on saltwater stuff or tiger fishing, and again in locations and through outfitters which necessitate spending BIG bucks. They’re good to watch for a while, but for most of us it’s the stuff of pipedreams, which just adds to our ever-building depression.
By this stage, many of us are emotional wrecks, deprived of our much-needed regular river fixes and bored or frustrated by the related alternatives. This is where things start to get dangerous! And this is also where I’m going to disavow any personal experience or knowledge of the things whereof I will speak, put it all down to conjecture and plead the 5th Amendment.
The reason why we now enter dangerous territory is that we are in a state of emotional deprivation, starved of our river solace and accordingly losing touch with our souls. We are vulnerable and, in this deprived and vulnerable state, minor obsessions begin to replace our major obsession (fishing our rivers for trout). And these minor obsessions have nothing to do with fishing..........
What may these minor obsessions be, you ask. Well, sex is an obvious one. Since the whole world is obsessed with sex nowadays, it stands to reason that good, healthy, outdoorsy fisherfolk would have no less an interest in sex than the rest of the world. So, here we are, bored and deprived and confined indoors having exhausted the practical river fishing-related alternatives, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realise that our minds will start to turn to things like sex to keep us occupied. The trouble is, we are in a state of depression, and depression (according to my information) doesn’t necessarily make for good sex. And the mind boggles as to what happens when one’s spouse or partner is also a river fly fisher (as in my case) and both of you are battling through the same emotional wreckage .... Oh my.... But sex (safely and between consenting adults) is a Good Thing and works to counter the depression brought on by enforced river abstinence. And one has things like Viagra and Cialis nowadays to counter the deleterious effects of depression on sexual activity. So, whether armed with such chemicals or not, my guess is that we fly fisherfolk turn to a minor obsession like sex to a greater extent in times of drought and floods and no fishing than we would were we able to be out on the rivers all day as we would like to be. And this is all very good for our relationships with our spice and partners, even if it’s not as good as being out on a river catching trout. It’s way better than watching fishing programmes on TV which is largely an exercise in futility, pretty though it may be. So, I surmise that in these awful times, sex takes on a larger role in our lives than it would if we were able to spend all day on the rivers, and this is not a Bad Thing. To the contrary, this is something to be encouraged.
In my experience, there is also a close correlation between the appreciation of fine music and fly fishing capability. The best fly fisherfolk I know certainly count music amongst their minor obsessions. So another theory is that, in these bad times, we listen to a lot of fine music. And let’s stay with the “Easy Rider” theme for a moment, and conjecture that a lot of fine Rock ‘n Roll is prominent in our music playlists. This is also a Good Thing, because listening to good Rock ‘n Roll is a wonderful way of releasing endorphins and serotonin and dopamine and all the things which make us feel good, and of dealing with our fragile emotional states. So, rock on ... and enjoy! And, having said that, Beethoven does it for me, and many of us, almost as much as Pink Floyd does, so the choice of musical gendre is entirely a personal thing.
Being on an “Easy Rider” theme, this brings us to drugs. And let me say at once that, in my book, alcohol is no less a drug than anything else. It’s just Government-approved, bringing in billions for the Fiscus in excise duties, and socially accepted to a greater extent than other drugs. The same applies to cigarettes. Now this is where I state unequivocally that I would never advocate the use of drugs (which include alcohol and cigarettes, remember) as an activity to fill what would normally be time on the rivers. But the fact is that many, many people do use some form of drugs, whether recreationally or as a minor obsession (indeed for many, it’s a major obsession). And though I don’t know with any certainty, my guess is that not all of us fly fisherfolk are as clean drugs-wise (including alcohol and cigarettes) as we would like our riverine environments to be. So do we, in these times of stress, turn to our drugs of choice to fill our time or alter our consciousness to help us cope. Do we drink more, smoke more (whatever it is that we may be smoking) or pop more pills? Do we seek to escape our confinement in this way? My very, very tentative guess is that, whatever form it takes, the answer may be a “Yes”. This is a sad indicator of how low we really feel, not being able to fish, and is not a Good Thing. Unlike sex and music, it is not to be encouraged. But my guess is that it happens.....
So, here we are, longing to get onto the rivers, unable to do so, and having to manage on sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll. Oy vay ......
At the beginning of all of this, I pointed out that there is light appearing at the end of this long, dark tunnel. Rhodes, over the last week, has been fishing superbly. The rivers have in the main cleared – the upper and middle reaches of most of the rivers are clear and bouncing and sparkling and, most importantly, full of good fish. The fish are taking both dry flies and nymphs, reasonably hungrily. It’s time to go fishing again! So, let’s shake ourselves out of our introspective reveries, push back our depression and the minor obsessions which may have taken a hold on us, and get out there. Long days spent on the rivers are again a reality, at least in and around Rhodes, and life may be coming back to normal.
Earlier, I questioned whether these bad times would or might leave us permanently damaged and scarred. Having at last spent time on the rivers again, having enjoyed some superb waters and fishing, the answer in my case is “No” – a resounding No. I hope that applies equally to everyone else. Go fishing and have fun – oh, and keep at the sex and the music while you’re at it. They actually go well with fishing.
And hey, remember, this is just a light-hearted bit of amateur psychoanalysis!
Walkerbouts car park 25/7/2016 by Mike Wade. This was the last
reasonable snowfall we’ve had since then. Hoping for a dump at some time in the future!