Stepping onto a beach you know like the back of your hand is similar to cracking a beer when lighting a braai fire, it just feels right.
It was low tide and the best time for the reconnaissance mission. We walked the beach we intend to fish, trying to identify any new formations. Around the first bend it was evident that a lot of sand had washed into the beach. Changing structures and human interference, even hundreds of kilometers away can have a significant impact on the currents and how the water naturally flows. I am sure the developments towards the PE side had caused the beach layout to change a bit over the past years.
Dad was setting the pace and even though there was a howling westerly we were not deterred from our objective. Each potential spot was remembered with an identifiable landmark. In “no time” we reached Dias Cross Memorial view point. The Portuguese explorer Bartolomeu Dias erected the original stone cross back in 1488. This was one of the earliest recorded events in our country’s history. The sandstone cross has subsequently been replaced with a replica; the original has been restored and is now kept in some museum. I wonder what their encounter with the Khoi or maybe Xhosa was like? I am sure it wasn’t to discuss lures and secret spots. Fishing must have been good in those days…
Jays arrived a day or two later and the gang was finally back together. Sitting around the fire that night we had discussions about leeries smashing our lures, kob bumping on every twitch and elf tail walking across the surface. Plans were to be up and out at 4am and return only when our arms couldn’t take it anymore.
I was soon led to “realise” that this was a family holiday and not a fishing trip. You know like when you “realise” that staying out after a round of golf is limited to 7pm…
The tides also caused a bit of a challenge as low was in the middle of the day and ideally we wanted it to be early morning for the fishing off the beach. The water was a very warm 24 degrees and crystal clear due to the westerly that had been blowing for days now. The clear water forces you to work a little harder to find spots that hold fish, especially ambush predators like kob. A fisherman always has an excuse when the fish aren’t biting, trying to justify that “blank”… Dad seemed less bothered and managed a small kob and an elf in the first couple of days. I had to settle for a few shy-sharks and a sand-shark or two.
Unpacking his tackle bag, Jays showed us a few of his new goodies. To be honest, they resembled a smarty box; bucktail-jigs in every colour you can imagine. One in particular stood out, the “Darth Vader” by a brand called Boom-Vas. Darth Vader maybe, but reminded me of those black and red grasshoppers you get, ugly buggers. “Die ding gaan die visse bang maak” I thought to myself, but dare not say it out loud. If you are still on a “mombakkie”, then you are not allowed to have an opinion…
After trekking around the next bend and the next, I identified a really good looking section. The water was still very clear and the wind had died down. You might have mistaken our beach to be one in Mozambique or some tropical island. Huge mullet were cruising the shallows, almost had me sight casting at them; “bonefish”!
I pointed at a spot just within casting distance, and told Jays to put his lure right in the middle of it. Darth Vader, may the force be with you. Jays whipped the lure into hyperdrive and it dropped smack bang in the spot I mentioned; kid’s got some skills. I kept an eye on him as he started with that familiar retrieve. Twitch, twitch, BOOM! missed, AH! twitch twitch, Boom-Vas! Goldenboy does it again, the shimi screaming and those lovely headshakes visible on the new 11ft rod. Like a pro he played the kob, and in no time he had the fish on the side. I didn’t even have time to get the fight on film, and had to settle for a post-match summary. After a couple of snaps, Jays put the beauty back into the water to fight another day. Some questions were thrown our way from spectators that enjoyed watching the fight. Jays explained the importance of releasing some fish as well and the necessary care that needs to be taken; the force is strong in this one.
The quick post match presentation
We fished hard the next couple of days, trying to make the most of every moment we had and every spot we thought held potential, but we were unsuccessful on the bucktail-jigs.
One morning after breakfast, on one of those humid, hot and windless mornings, we decided to give the snorkeling a skip and take the paddletails for a wiggle. Walking down the beach, I gestured to Dad and Jays that we always pass by this spot, let’s fix our rig and start here. Wading neck deep into the clear water, trying not to submerge our reels we found footing on a shallower bank a bit out. This enabled us to get our the paddletails into deeper water.
Dad persisted while Jays and I moved to the following spots down the beach. Trying to keep my footing in the churning sand I happened to glance back at Dad who had assumed the battle-stance, what? I struggled through the water to get to the beach and raced to Dad’s aid and maybe take few photos. I reached him just as he gently slid the kob into the shallows. Not a huge fish but he was super stoked nonetheless. The paddletails he bought especially for these clear conditions had worked, great when a plan comes together.
We continued to throw paddletails during low tide, making our way along the beach. Other than catching a tan, we didn’t get as much as a bite. On the push we returned to our initial starting point where Dad managed to land his kob.
I was first to cast and quickly covered all the water I thought would maybe produce a bite. Jays leisurely strolled into the water and took in a position next to me. He put his lure right onto a spot I had sent three casts into already. Pulling his lure through the channel he suddenly looked up at me with that I think that was a bump face. No sooner had he open his mouth to mention the fact, I think that was a b…. he shouted On! and the lure started to scream off in the opposite direction. Pure elation as he fought the kob over the banks and into the shallows. We managed a few photos before releasing the fish again. Confounded by my lack of success, using the same lure, putting it on the same spot, using the same retrieve, I acknowledged defeat…
On the walk home Dad and Jays were particularly chirpy, having been successful in challenging conditions for lure fishing. I must say that the couple of jabs that flew my way had me stumbling for answers on where my catch was… As Jays explained in an earlier post, you get times where you can’t even buy a bite. Yes, it sucks, but catching is only the cherry on top of a lure fishing outing. Spending time with family, enjoying a sport that we love, together, I accept my “mombakkie“, gracefully…
