Yellowfish on a hand line

Catching a yellowfish on a traditional fly pattern on a hand line? Sounds impossible but let me explain.

Clan Campbell descended upon us. Rob Campbell and his daughter Hannah invited Hannah’s friend Tayla, Rob’s cousin Sarah Stevens and her family – Richard, Robert & Charles – and Rob’s parents, Auntie Anne and Uncle Des, who also happens to be my (Alan’s) godfather, for the weekend.

After enjoying horse riding and an evening rise at Mountain dam on Saturday, much hype was built up regarding yellowfish.

On Sunday, the anticipation as crisp as the morning air, we departed to the Little Fish River, where we have private access to many kilometers of river. We followed a game path through the thickets towards the river. Just when you’ve had enough of mountaineering, you burst through the bush onto a raised sandy beach with the river unfolding between columns of reeds either side of you. The water we fish originates from the Vaal River, which flows into the Orange River, and is then pumped into the Great Fish River, tunneled through the mountains and canalled into the Little Fish River. The canal was still closed for maintenance, so the water was only just flowing and allowed the usual dirty brown water to settle, offering good visibility.

The people not fishing eased into chairs on the beach, while we set up to target yellowfish. We waded into the river, now much shallower, and positioned all three Stevens men on a sand bank across the width of the river. Robert boasted to Charles that he was the lucky one, producing the first fish, albeit a small one. Charles also enjoyed success. I was reminding the clan to remain still and not to advance up the sand bank, as true to form, the fish kept rising just out of casting distance. “Stand still, as the fish move right up to you foraging on the sand bank”, I said. I was standing next to Richard and was adjusting the position of his strike indicator. Unbeknown to me, the emerger pattern, a march brown silver (the dropper fly), and the flashback bead head pheasant tail nymph (the point fly), were both dangling in the water. Having felt a solid tug, I pulled back and low and behold, a nice yellow of about 1kg had engulfed the march brown silver! With the leader moving frantically from side to side, I let go and Richard landed the fish. “I told you that the fish come right up to you”, I exclaimed, to which the Clan nodded in belief.

Rob also managed to land a beauty in the quicker water downstream. It was a successful day on all accounts.

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