An adventure to the Transkei use to be a must for all fishermen.
It was a place of beauty, unspoilt, unfished and wild. Nature in control; time measured by the sun; if it is up its day, and if it is down it is night. Dates were lost into yesterdays, todays and tomorrows. You forgot about the rest of the world for two weeks. There use to be no cell phone signal and no help around if needed. You were at the mercy of the land and its people. You felt alive, free, blessed…
We were fortunate enough to visit an area called Labanzi on more than one occasion. It is nestled smack bang in the middle of Hole-in-the-wall and Mbolompo point (can you ask for better fishable waters?).
On the first visit I accompanied 4 mates, my dad and one of his friends to explore what that stretch of coastline had to offer.
A drive through the Eastern Cape is always spectacular, but once you head out of Queenstown towards Umtata it starts to become an adventure. Dodging livestock, potholes, the odd drunkard on foot and oncoming traffic serves for plenty of excitement.
Eventually you reach beyond civilisation. Your arrival is greeted by rolling green hills, kids running after the vehicles screaming “SWEETS!” “SWEETS!” at the top of their lungs and then, finally, an ocean ready to be explored.
Our accommodation would be nothing more than a broken down building and a small shed. The sleeping quarters would be the rooms where the roof offered protection from the rain. Bathroom facilities were a long-drop and a cold shower from a tank filled with rain water. Roughing it, but who cares…
Our neighbours were the cows just chilling on the beach, leaving for the kraal each evening and returning the following day. Like clockwork they would be on the move. I suppose they were just as amused by us as we were by them.
The first couple of days we managed to catch our fill on elf. They were feeding on the surface and were predominately caught on drift baits and silver spoons. The novices in the party went from being apprehensive about this whole fishing thing to being the first at the water and the last to leave. Elf are fun and easy to catch if they are actively feeding. Be careful of those sharp teeth when handling them, many an angler have learned the hard way when trying to remove a hook. You can read a bit more about the specie here.
We visited Mbolompo point a few times during the trip and once again caught plenty of elf and one or two garrick. You needed a 4×4 vehicle to get to the point, the drive was pretty hair-raising, especially after a day of rain. Our main gillie, Lucks managed to hook into a couple of yellowtail that had his reel screaming. We fish without a gaff which makes landing these fish very difficult… he was unable to land any of them successfully…
At hole in the wall we did more sight-seeing than fishing. None the less, the hike there was spectacular and more than made up for the lack of fish.
It was the middle of the day and the only fish on the bite was the odd sandshark.
The kob were around in few numbers, but we managed a few of them, as well as a nice bellman that was kept for the braai; accompanied by a few crayfish… a feast fit for a king.
Many of the locals make a living by plundering the coastline in search of these delicacies. They gotta eat, so we get to eat…
The original pioneer of the Ninja-pose, Tex tries to make his kob look a little bigger. Not to worry mate, it is the perfect size for the braai.
The trip involves a lot of climbing down cliffs and back up them again. It is pretty tiring after a hard day of fishing…
but it helps when you get to reach places like this.
You get to experience some of the most beautiful sunrises, we were left in awe everytime.
I ended off the trip with pretty much the highlight of my then fishing career. We headed to a little cove on the southern side of Queens and Hole-in-the-wall. The tide was nearly high and the water looked great. We had been catching a lot of small kob in the shallows; cast for cast we were on. I decided to put some elbow into the following cast and sent it in a bit deeper than usual.
Standing around making small talk to the other guys I paid little attention to the initial enquiry on my line; writing it off as another small kob being a nuisance. The thought had hardly been processed when I had an almighty pull at the end of my line; yup that was definitely no juvenile kob. As I lifted my rod to set the hooks, line started to peel off my reel.
Never before had I felt line being stripped at such speed!
Once I composed myself, the guessing game started; what could it be? I was using a 6/0 hook baited with a thin sliver of chokka and sardine. Shark perhaps, but the take was at such speed, surely not. Musselcracker? probably. The fish headed straight for the rocks at the point, yip definitely musselcracker I thought.
In order to give myself a better angle to turn the fish and avoid being cut off on the point I waded to about shoulder deep where there was a slight step up to waist deep. I managed to get there with the fish still on my line.
I was now not only battling a brute on the end of my line but also the surging waves crashing into me, while I tried desperately to keep my footing on the ledge. Can fishing get more exciting!
I managed to turn the fish and gain back some line, but everytime I thought I was winning the battle, the fish would dart off again, taking most of the line I had just sweated for. These crazy bursts of speed had me pondering on another specie or two, a big spotted grunter or maybe a pignose grunter (steenbras). They are well known for their runs at high speed.
Once I had the fish into the bay I could make my way back to the beach. Now it was just a matter of patience and hoping the hook-set was good. I would wait for the push of a wave and use all the assistance on offer. In the last wave I caught a flash of silver, not a shark, Excited!
I was twinkle-toeing around trying my best to nurse the fish closer and keep its head turned. A good wave pushed the fish onto the side, just as I had hoped for. The next wave was all I needed and the huge silver shape lay defeated on the side.
My mouth hung open, I had no words… A bus of a white steenbras!
The biggest I had ever seen or let alone heard of. Surely my eyes were deceiving me.
It was the days before we used tape measures and we weighed the big fish. It pulled the scale flat onto the 10kg mark, hmm, so I would never know the true weight, but I didn’t care, it was a donkey!
Dad managed to take some photos of my prized catch, an hour I will remember forever.
The awesome Transkei, never disappointing, a true Rush of Blue adventure!
