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BUFFALO RIVER 2019-07-06


Every time we have met the Border Fishing Buddies had been regaling me with tales of a pretty little river they regularly fish for KZN Yellowfish aka Scalies, so when Dèhan posted some pictures of a quick but successful excursion to the Buffalo River I just couldn’t resist the temptation any more.

Some quick plans were made and the wheels were set in motion, this time for me to visit Jarryd and Dèhan on their home water in search of those pretty scalies. The excitement built up as I counted the days down and then even before the alarm clock went off the Saturday morning I jumped out of bed, got dressed and made myself a quick cup of coffee before the hour and a half’s drive that lay ahead of me. As I pulled the already packed Hilux out of the garage the cold hit me, but nothing was going to stop me from a visit with good friends and maybe even a bent rod as a bonus.

It was still dark as the kilometers rolled out beneath me and before the sun was up I stopped to get another cup of coffee in Volksrust and off again for the last bit, as I rolled through the Amjuba pass, I tried to imagine how it must have been for the English forces entrenched on the sides of the mountain when the sun also rose on them, the morning when the Boer Commando started their assault on them in 1881.

Just as the sun came up over the horizon I arrived at the arranged meeting place and is wasn’t long before Dèhan and Jarryd stopped there too, the formalities aside I followed through billowing winter dust clouds on a relatively decent gravel road to where they had arranged for us to fish. After stopping the bakkies and walking closer to look at the pretty little stream that flowed in front of us we then with shivering fingers threaded fly lines through rod eyes and tippets were tied on and attached to flies, while Jarryd tended to the coffee as a cold wind blew down the valley from the frosty sides of Majuba Hill.

After a few casts in the winter shade of the wattle trees on our side of the river, but the cold started creeping through our jackets and the three of us then launched a small dinghy and proceeded to precariously cross the river in it to fish a bit in the early morning sun. It seemed that it wasn’t just us who were suffering from the cold as the Yellows were still hunkered down. We crossed the river again for more coffee and to inflate the pontoon boat that I had brought along for Dèhan to give a test run.

After Dèhan set off I crossed the river again only after a few minutes to hear Dèhan calling to us that we should come downstream with the dinghy as he has already released his third fish, what is it with these guys as soon as you split them one starts to fish it happened on the Assegai and here again.

Downstream we row making a cast every now and then until we find a nice spot effectively cutting in front of Dèhan and making sure he doesn’t catch another. It wasn’t long before Jarryd and myself started getting the indicators to dip and dive but the wind was making it difficult. Eventually we both managed to land a fish. The action seemed to die down a bit and we made a call to try and push through a thick patch of hyacinth to a pool further down that looked very promising. With some serious effort and worse cussing we got through praying that it wasn’t for nothing.

Knowing your home water is always a great advantage and before long buddy was on to his third fish from this pool, showing me how it’s done. After a few fish the action died down again so we decided to garden our way through the cabbage back to where the others were in the hope of sustenance and refreshments. A cold one and some friendly banter lifts weary spirits and soon the guys had a small fire going for some proper flame grilled “boerrie” rolls. Since my time was short I excused myself and rod in hand headed to the spot that I had first tried on our arrival. It wasn’t long and I struck gold in a handsome, decently sized KZN Yellow. A quick photo and back it went. It didn’t take long and I was tuned into their station and another one came to the net. After a fourth one I decided to go grab a bite.

Done wolfing down some food and making the required amount of small talk I grabbed my rod and set off to make those fabled last casts, fortunately the river and its inhabitants liked me and another few fish were fooled by feathers and fluff. Eventually and regrettably I had to call it quits since I didn’t want to have to negotiate two mountain passes in the dark on my way home.

With a heavy heart I started packing my kit and soon the place looked like we were never even there. We said our farewells and made plans to get together soon again and I headed home happy to know there are good friends in life great places to fish and plans in the cooker for another get together on another water.

A final shout out goes to Bjorn who made it possible and went out of his way to make the place accessible for us.

Warmwater Bends

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