A fishy fairy tale

Details

Created on Friday, 30 December 2011 14:56

This could start with, once upon a time, but for the sake of originality I will use, a long time ago, just kidding. It was a dark stormy night and …., bugger, wrong story, screw it, I will tell it backwards, th82 yadrutaS, yad toh a saw ti. Ok ok, it really was a beautiful day and a day I will recall for a very long time. Saturday 28th January 2006 ended just as incredibly as it had begun and while all days at Infanta are special this particular day had a magical quality.

I arrived on the Monday and was leaving on Sunday so this was my last day, the entire week we had warm weather, windy at times but very pleasant none the less. The easterly wind had been blowing heavily for a day or so and this rendered the bay fairly lumpy with warm murky water. Perfect for fishing. The wind dropped in the morning allowing the swell to flatten slightly and a glorious day was about to get better. As is customary we were sitting on the stoep carefully analyzing the best fishing spots, sure, in truth I was barely awake as is normal for me early in the morning, it was barely 11. What was interesting though was the school of Mullet swimming virtually on the beach, not their presence as they are invariably there, but their behaviour, drinking, smoking, swearing, unlike any other fish I have ever seen. Or at least that is what it looked like, one massive sokkie jol for fish going round and round on an imaginary dance floor, and we all know what goes on at those parties. As fascinating as this was something rather more important was about to happen, an unmissable event of paramount importance. Breakfast.

There is nothing quite as nice as food especially if it’s prepared by someone else. Satiated and ready for some strenuous reading, it’s hell on the eyes, left-right-left-right, I get tired thinking about it, went back to the stoep and lo and behold the sakkie is still on. At this stage my ever alert intelligence starts recognizing a pattern, it’s not a sokkie but a political rally. Amongst the white mullet there are black fish and everyone knows that a black fish will never dance with a white one for fun, rhythm is rhythm be it people or fish and whiteys just don’t have it. Just to prove the point the cops arrive in what looked like a tank on speed. Instantly the little fish start toy-toying, shimmering on the surface in what looked amazingly similar to a bait ball trying to get away from a larger predator. Imagine that, oh, bait ball, fish, big fish, crap, what am I doing sitting on the stoep. At this stage I would like to say that I was a blur of activity, running down the hills to catch that fish, that would be lie, I still had to finish my coffee.

Eventually, after another 5 minutes of oohing and aahing, I decided it was worth a try so I went to my tackle box, pulled out my trustworthy popper, I had used it once before for 15 minutes and not lost it, miraculous. Tied it on a hurtled down the hill or ambled, either way I got to the bottom with my trusty spotter, Suzi, my fishing partner, I fish and she moans about it. I think she came down to laugh at my ineptitude, as it turns out I would have been stuffed without her and not only on this day. Once there I crossed the beach and headed for the rocks on the far side and after much scrambling arrived at my chosen spot to nail the sea monster. Whoosh, out flies the popper in a glorious arc of deadly precision, hey it hit the water and that is where the fish are, so what does it matter if I missed my target by a nautical mile. Graceful I am not while casting, more like a giraffe drinking, it gets the job done but it aint pretty. Anyway, one, two, three casts, hold on what is that following my popper? A silver flash, could it be a fish? Reel in, cast, crap, overwind, reel in, fix it, re cast, nothing and again, nothing, 7,8,9 times, nothing. Oh well, what did I expect, Jonah? Couple more casts and I will call it quits. Popper bouncing on the water and another silver flash, stop reeling, start again, BANG!! Fish on the line, help. The next moments felt like an instant, loosen the drag, let it run. No, it’s swimming towards the reef, if it keeps going that way I am screwed, thankfully it comes back into the bay. Close call, stuff playing the monster I am going to winch it, drag on and reel hard. Here it comes, by now my fish handler is on hand, down one rock, into waist deep water Suzi goes, grab the popper out comes the most beautiful fish I have ever seen. My God it is splendid, a Leervis of approximately one metre and 5 or 6 kilos. The joy of holding such a fish is indescribable, the idea of killing it? Keep it or let it go and I can safely say that I did not have the heart to terminate it. Back in the water and for a couple of moments I thought it was not going to make it, slowly though it starts swimming and as I open my hands it glides back into the murky depths and its freedom. Now as soon as I stop shaking I can go back and have a cold beer.

The rest of the day I had an idiotic grin on my face that still resurfaces every time I think about it. I should not mention that I caught 4 elf that afternoon and then Suzi spotted a genet in the veld because people might think I am lying, but I have witnesses and while their recollection of these events might differ the gist is the same. I cannot wait to do it all again.

Francesco Migliore