Fly-fishing and meeting the kings of Maputaland

There are few things as entertaining (and unbelievable) as a fisherman telling fishing tales, except maybe when two fishermen get together. Jazz Kuschke had a couple of cold ones with Clive the Camper and his fly-fishing buddy, Cobus van Vee, and landed in the middle of a memory session of their recent Maputaland mission.

Maputaland’s waters are revered among fly-fishers, but you have to know where to drop that cast. Two mates found some great camping spots … and a fish or two.

Kosi Bay lakes system
Clive the Camper: Cobus, remember that trip we almost did to southern Mozam, but didn’t ‘cos some hijacking and other dodgy, dangerous stuff went down there? So we ended-up fishing Kosi and around the St Lucia area.

Cobus van Vee: Ah man, I’ll never forget that. Every time I see a glassy piece of water, I think of that morning when we were sight-casting flies to kingies in mirror-like Second Lake at Kosi Bay.

Clive: (sigh) Sherbet, that Kosi lakes system is something else. Never mind the fishing – the scenery and vibe of the place just made it.

Cobus: ‘Never mind the fishing!’ Clivo, spoken like a true angler; I’m a fisherman I actually catch fish. But aai, it’s special, part of the Greater St Lucia Wetland Park – a World Heritage Site nogal. [See Getaway March 2007].

Clive: (laughs) Ha, ja, but how ’bout those lakes? Hippos and crocs and all – four full-of-fish lakes with swamp forest on one side and the sea just other side a vegetated dune. The place is bubbling with potential fly targets: green-spot, blue-fin and giant kingies, rock salmon, spotted grunter; even the stumpnoses up there are frisky enough to take flies.

Cobus: Bubbling like those clever kingies, feeding on the surface. Just as we got within casting distance, they would vanish.

Clive: That’s just ‘cos you were hacking with your bloomin’ casting.

Cobus: Hacking! You kept starting the motor and scaring them off.

Clive: Whatever! You usually have only one chance at them anyway, especially if they’re giant kingfish (Caranx ignoblis). Reckon I’m going to write a book called ‘The wisdom of the kings’ one day. Make royalties from royalty! Ah, but forget that. You remember those monster mullet?

Cobus: In the channel? Sardines on steroids, those things!

Clive: On clever pills, more like it. They got so big ‘cos they were hanging out in the safety of the channel between Second and Third lakes. It’s like a four-kay long mini Zambezi – tight S-bend corners, reed fringes and plenty of birds.

Cobus: Just like a Zambezi or Okavango side-stream. I reckon Uncle Alex would do his nut in there with that cast net of his.

Clive: He’d nail a couple of bull mullet in one cast and go home to cook them on the braai for brekkie.

Cobus: He’d be smiling! Telling us we’re shoddy fishers ‘cos we don’t bring home any chow.

Clive: No doubt, but the real experts in those lakes are the fish-trap guys.

Cobus: For bringing home the chow, for sure. But I wouldn’t really call them fishers; they’re more like farmers, endlessly tending their famous fish kraals: mending, harvesting what’s needed. It’s really something to see.

Clive: And they know the water.

Cobus: Oh, they know those waters all right. I reckon Rob Kyle and his boet Ewan know those lakes almost as well.

Clive: Yip, sons of Dr Robert Kyle, the Fisheries research officer in the area. Lucky boys grew up there, fishing nearly every day. I read a story ’bout how they were hauling fish after fish on dropshot lures.

Cobus: Clivo, you can read?

Clive: Shut up! I heard they’d caught more than 25 species on those soft plastic lures with the lead-head hooks.

Cobus: Kosi was awesome, we were kicking it at Kosi Bay Lodge: wooden rustic comfort and watching World Cup Cricket in the bar.

Clive: Bloody Aussies!

Cobus: They have really cool boats and great guides too. Even if you don’t want to fish.

Clive: Yip, the guide, Mike Ngubane, grew up in the area and knows where the fish are.

Cobus: But then the southerly picked up, brought the rain and wind, and we couldn’t really fish anymore.

Clive: Nah, we could, you were just scared of getting wet. But ‘cos of that we got to go to Willie’s bush camp, and we probably never would’ve if the weather’d kept smiling.

Maputaland Bush Camp and Horse Trails, Black Rock
Cobus: The drive to Willie’s Maputaland Bush Camp was a bit like southern Mozam, with a delta of sand tracks – you’ve got to be pretty confident you know where you’re heading.

Clive: But what a winner: no fences, no locks. Hell, the cabins don’t even have back walls. It’s real relaxed, earthy and easy on the eyes.

Cobus: And those horses. It would be cool to go back there and do a four-night horse trail through the area with Willie and his wife, Isabel. Or a canoe trip on the river off Fourth Lake and look for palm-nut vultures and Pel’s fishing owls.

Clive: Or just go hang out there so that we can fish Black Rock beach again. Man that was some fine surf fly-fishing.

Cobus: Pompano de luxe!

Clive: It’s there that I really learnt the value of a stripping basket.

Cobus: Aren’t you stoked – I told you to take one along.

Clive: For once you were right bru. Once, I’ll give you that. There’s no way you can wade knee-deep into the shorebreak and cast properly without it. Your line will be washed around, so when you want to cast it out, there’s way too much friction off the water to get any good distance. You’ll never get to where the kings are and all the sand and salt off the line will get into your reel.

Cobus: Remember, we almost didn’t get to fish the second day at Black Rock ‘cos we were too stubborn to stick the mobile in 4×4 or deflate the tyres. So we got a little stuck.

Clive: Yip, we were a bit harregat and almost missed the tide. Driving sand tracks like that, it’s always better to be in high range with slightly gummy tyres. Even if the roads look passable.

Maphelana, St Lucia and Cape Vidal
Cobus: It also helps to be in 4×4 when you’re driving that road to Maphelana.

Clive: No kidding: 46 kays of potholed madness, that stretch! Took us like an hour. And I was driving. If you were behind the wheel, would’ve been double that.
Cobus: Noooit! I was on pothole spotting duty. How’s that road: tar, dirt, tar, dirt, pothole, pothole, pothole…

Clive: True, but you know, if they had to fix that track, it would no longer keep the clowns out.

Cobus: Right you are, at the moment it’s just the people that really want to be there – and know the fishing potential – who go.

Clive: And they get there. How’s that crazy couple we saw dodging craters in their little Peugeot 206?

Cobus: Hectic.

Clive: But not as hectic as the crowd at St Lucia mouth. We got there after it had been washed open by that huge cyclone swell and equinox tide [19 March 2007]. And the fishing was A-grade.

Cobus: Those fishers were like a pack of sharks attacking a shoal of baitfish. All over and under each other to get the best casting spot off the bank.

Clive: We couldn’t even fish. You’d hook five different ous’ rods if you had to try fly-casting there.

Cobus: That wouldn’t have been pretty.

Clive: Yip. It would make for a massive tangle-up kraaines.

Cobus: Not the tangle dumbass, you would get into some real trouble from them hands holding those fishing poles. I’d rather take my chances with the crocs on the sandbank drop-offs than those fellas.

Clive: You’d have to buy endless brandies in the pub to make up for it. Or hide in the bushes somewhere in Sugarloaf Camp Site so they wouldn’t find you. Sugarloaf’s good that way, all forest and stuff.

Cobus: There was one mellow character on the sand bank.

Clive: Oh ja, that rasta. We lent him some bait and he proceeded to catch two beautiful grunter with it.

Cobus: He must’ve been in touch with nature. He gave us one of those spotties [spotted grunter] to say thank you for the bait and said, “One love brudda.”

Clive: Yeah, he was cool.

Cobus: Remember, we bailed to Cape Vidal after that, in search of peace and some casting space and those kingies.

Clive: And lucked into seeing some game on the beautiful drive in.

Cobus: Lucked! That was my bush skills. Side-striped jackal, bush pig, hippo, elephant and plenty of kudus. And samango monkeys in camp.

Clive: Plenty pesky monkeys. You must’ve felt right at home.

Cobus: At casting a big clouser minnow into the surf at Vidal, yes. Dusting you with my tally of kings and pompanos.

Clive: There are some huge kings at Vidal. I’m actually glad we never hooked one of those 30-plus kilo freight trains – they would’ve stripped our fly reels clean, for sure, backing and all.

Cobus: You’re just saying that because you caught nothing but a cold up there. But you’re right – we didn’t have the right tackle to target those monsters. But it wasn’t really what we were after.

Clive: Vidal’s a nice spot though. A best-of-the-two-worlds-love kind of place: good for swimming, rock and beach walking, great fishing. You can launch your boat there. And game viewing.

Cobus: The camp site’s really nice too. And surf-ski fishing – those guys were nailing it, trolling lures behind their skis.

Clive: Ah Vidal, I could go there twice a year, six months at a time. Catch fish, spend some time looking for leopards in the park. Trying to get a good photo of those damn ghost crabs on the beach.

Cobus: Thinking of that has sommer made me thirsty. Let’s get another lager.

Clive: No, stuff that idea. No more rounds, save your cash. We’re going back to visit the kings of Maputaland..

The lowdown
Maputaland lies in north-eastern South Africa between Swaziland, Mozambique and the Indian Ocean. Most of it is accessible only with a 4×4 and so remains fairly wild.

Many areas way in the north don’t have running water or electricity. According to traditional definitions, Maputaland lies from Sodwana Bay in the south, including Lake Sibayi, Mabibi, Lalanek, Rocktail Bay, Black Rock, Dog Point and Bhanga Nek, with the Kosi Lakes system as the most northern point, but we included St Lucia, Cape Vidal and Maphelana in our trip.

In the north, the main town is KwaNgwanase (Kosi Bay), but it’s nowhere near a bay and still 30km from the coast. Buy your supplies and petrol there. Further south, St Lucia town is a fully-fledged holiday centre, so you’ll find everything you need – even a bait shop.