The Catfish Chronicles – The First Canoe Catfish Safari

As the news of the big trophy-size catfish that could be caught in the lower Orange River filtered into the local angling fraternity, it also attracted the interest of commercial ecotourism operators. One such company was the “River Runners”** operation out of Johannesburg that offered guided canoe safaris for adventurous individuals who wanted to run the rapids in the river. The three biggest catfish of this, the very first catfish canoe safari ever, were landed within hours of each other in a very “unfishy –looking” spot in the lower Orange River. L to R: Robbie Gilbertson with his fish of 18,25kg, Frank Lottering with his fish of 24,25kg, the biggest of the trip, and fishing safari guide, the late Frits Beumer with one of 18,0kg. It was therefore inevitable that River Runners would want to tap into this new opportunity and so contact was made with the the anglers who had set the new national catfish record (see Catfish Chronicles, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4 – Ed), which resulted in the first ever canoe catfish safari taking place as a joint venture between the Hengel/Angling magazine and River Runners in April 1992. Twenty anglers signed up and it was featured in the magazine. Frits Beumer and I were the guides, and so successful was it that other safari companies and guiding operations soon entered the sector. This is what happened on our second last day and night on the river: Encamped on the bank of the lower Orange River at one of the most ‘unfishy’ spots we had encountered since launching our Indian canoes on the river a few days ago, Frits and I stared at the water and shook our heads. Too shallow, we agreed; too many rocks, we agreed again; too far from the main channel, we agreed yet again. All in all, we concluded emphatically, this was a great overnight spot but just not right for really big catfish! The campsite lay opposite a series of huge boulders in the river, with shallow, rocky bottoms on either side. On the bank, a wide, flat rock the size of a largish room made an excellent dining and kitchen area. Grassy banks on either side of it and river sand to the rear made it a great camping spot, but for fishing? But okay, we shrugged, the river guides liked this spot and reckoned we could all do with one night without any fishing. Well, within two hours Frits and I – the two supposed veterans of the river and its catfish - were proved wrong – and how! One of our safari guests, Robbie Gilbertson from Springs, reckoned he’d not come this far and rowed all week just to go camping, he wanted to fish! So despite our negative comments, he proceeded to hook a fish cutlet on a # 8/0 van der Merwe *¹ hook and with a deft cast sent it into a small section of open water below the boulders. “Watch out for those rocks!” he was warned. “If you hook into a big one you’ll battle to get it out!” But not ten minutes passed before Frits and I and just about everyone else in the party was surprised when the drag on his reel sent screeches into the silence of the gorge and we saw line peeling off his reel. Robbie did a grand job of playing the fish away from the boulders and after five or so minutes he had it near the bank where Frits stood ready, gaff in hand. From experience he knew that the big catfish of the Orange River had scant regard for a landing net. A gaff was the answer, hooked into the small slit at the bottom of the fish’s gaping mouth. The scenery in the lower Orange River valley conjures up descriptions such as majestic, magnificent and spectacular - but its population of big catfish is the real attraction! Robbie’s fish was small, by Orange River standards that is, maybe 10kg, which is why he could control it so easily and why nobody aimed a camera at it, so it was soon unhooked and back into the river it went. “Whoever would have thought that this particular piece of water would hold a fish?” Frits exclaimed. “Yah, well, never too old to…” Only minutes later Frits had a line rigged and into the water it went – a whole fish with just the tail chopped off, impaled on an 8/0 hook. The line had hardly been in the water for ten minutes when the ratchet started to scream. Then it lay still. “Only the big ones do that,” Frits muttered, taking the rod in his hands. “I’ll let it take some more line to give it time to swallow the bait,” he answered the enquiring looks of the others who had gathered around him. The reel ticked over again, and again, and then the fish started to really take line. Frits let it run, then struck hard, three times. “It feels big!” he gasped, holding the rod high to put strain on the fish. He had to play it very carefully, feeling the line rasp over submerged rocks. “Oh-oh, it’s stuck!” he groaned. All he could do was maintain a steady pressure in the hope that the fish would swim off and that the line would come free again. We all held our breath, and heaved a sigh of relief when suddenly Frits started to reel in again, pulling the fish nearer with the rod, then dipping the tip and reeling furiously. “It’s coming, it’s coming!” he sang out, and not two metres from the bank the big fish broke the surface. Quickly Robbie was at hand with the gaff and there it lay on the bank. “Never seen such a big one!” said one. “That’s why I came along!” said another. It was indeed a great catch - on the scale it weighed in at 18kg – the biggest for the trip so far. Getting that fish in over all those rocks was quite some feat. Frits sank onto the grass, “Well, I’d have preferred it if one of our gusts had caught it, but I’m sure there are more of that size. I’m taking a break,” Frits said, “let the others have a go.” “Going to be difficult to top that, but who would have thought that such an unlikely spot would produce such big fish, or ANY fish for that matter!” Meanwhile all the guests had their lines in, and then Robbie’s reel ran again, the ratchet whirring into the silence. “Let it run, let it run…looks like another big one!” Frits yelled. Robbie did listen, stopped trying to wind in line and looked questionably at Frits as the line lay still. “Just leave it!” Frits said firmly. “Its going to do that again, but you must wait until it takes off.” Then another twitch and the line tightened and pulled maybe a metre, and I could see Robbie was finding it mighty difficult to restrain himself from lifting the rod and striking. Then the line took off like a steam train, slicing through the water. “I reckon it’s time to strike!” Robbie exclaimed, picking up the rod and taking off the clicker. He fed the fish some more line, then tightened down and struck – once, twice, three times he heaved back on the rod, hand on the drum of his centrepin reel. The fish ran, peeling off line. “Go for it now, now..!” Frits yelled, as Robbie, now on his feet, was already leaning into the fish with his rod fully bent. “Man, it feels big!” he grunted. “Got to get it away from those rocks,” he said through clenched teeth. He gained a few metres of line, then lost it again. The fish surged out towards the middle of the river, forcing Robbie to loosen his pressure on the spool. The second he felt it stop, he immediately pulled back on the rod, and lowered it while frantically reeling in. The rest of the group were also on their feet, shouting encouragement into the gathering dusk as the sun started dipping below the gorge peaks. He was winning the battle however, and he started gaining line with every pump of the rod until we could see the fish’s great head breaking the surface a few metres from shore. “Wow! It’s a big one!” everyone shouted. “Bring the gaff, bring the gaff!” Robbie played the fish nearer the shore. “Give him room, give him room!” Frits yelled as the rest of us crowded in on Robbie who was by now praying that the line would hold against the rocks. “I can feel the line against the rocks – I hope it holds!” Then the fish broke water a metre or so from Frits’ feet, and he deftly heaved the fish ashore, while the rest clapped and cheered. The great fish lay, exhausted, on the bank. The scale was brought out, and the group fell silent as the pointer hovered around the 18kg mark, then rested on 18,25 kg – another trip record! Handshakes and smiles all round, and a very pleased Robbie! In went the lines again as we were called for dinner, but Frank Lottering from Ermelo, whose wife had given him the trip as an anniversary present, had put his line out to the right of the dining and kitchen area. He’d caught a couple of yellows and now had his catfish rig out. We were still milling around the delicious food on the table when his Phoenix*⁴ forward casting centrepin reel screamed…and again and again. He’d obviously been listening to all the advice given freely by Frits as he expertly fed the fish more and more line before tightening down and striking. The fish was on! The rod bent, and the drag smoothly released line. Another big one! Frank saw the fish kiting towards the left, where all those big boulders were and applied side strain. We watched and shouted encouragement, but Frank was concentrating only on that spot where his line entered the water. Then he started to lift and drop the rod, using the reel’s fast-retrieve to win line as fast as he could. But the fish surged off again, stripping line against the drag. Fortunately the drag held while the rest of us saw the line bump, bump over rocks and heaved sighs of relief as Frank again used the reel’s fast retrieve to gain line over them. Then we saw it – a great, grey slab with a long body and tail emerging on the surface, diving again and then splashing spray over us. Frits was again ready on the bank as Frank maneuvered the fish closer and within seconds Frits heaved the big fish out. Cries of delight, smiles and laughter and Frank, who could still not believe what he was seeing, grinning from ear to ear. The great catfish was lying on the bank, its head as wide as a man’s chest. Typical of these Orange River catfish, It had a big, wide head but a slim, tapering body. Its colour also was different to those of the catfish found in the Vaal River in Gauteng and Free State – a pale, slate grey, almost white in parts. “Almost an albino,” someone remarked. We fetched the scales again, the third time within an hour. Again two guys were needed to hold the scale steady – 24,25 kg! Another trip record - Frank was overjoyed, and even more so when he saw how happy everyone else was for his part. It took some time for him to find his voice. The biggest fish he had ever caught! “Man, it was great!” was all he could get out. That’s the type of angling action that can be expected when casting a line in the lower Orange River. OBSERVATIONS OF THE FRIENDLY KIND Our safari had started at the River Runners’* base camp some kilometers below the Aughrabies Falls at a spot known as “Blouputz”,and just to give us a taste of what to expect during our week on the river, the guides had prepared a sheep on the spit and served wines from the local Orange River Cellars. Head guide Goran Stromberg, all the way from Sweden had arrived in South Africa as a tourist two years ago but had liked the country so much that he stayed on; he delivered an introductory lecture on how to pack the canoes and the route we would be following. Everything needed was carried in 25 liter plastic buckets, all marked with their contents, stowed fore and aft, with personal valuables left behind in a secure safe at base camp. On our first day we paddled about fifteen kilometres under the watchful eyes of the three guides, Goran and his assistants, Danny Shevel and Bradley Downing. Typical of the kind of person the River Runner safari operation employed, they were friendly, helpful and experts on the water. When a canoe lagged behind, there would be a guide alongside to keep an eye on them. Above the rapids head guide Goran would stop the flotilla and explain what was required. The two assistants would take up stations in the rapids and point out the way to go, or they would be positioned at the start or below the rapids making sure everyone emerged unhurt from them – exciting stuff, especially with rods sticking out of the canoes! The guides also did most of the actual camp work – chopping firewood, setting up and breaking camp, providing clean drinking water and so on. Danny had the unenviable task of setting up the field toilet at every campsite. He had to find suitable spots, which turned out to be smack bang in the middle of the worst devil’s thorn patches every time! Shoes were a prerequisite when answering nature’s call! When we quizzed him about this, Danny was laconic – we still don’t know the reason! The first time visitors to this part of the country were amazed at the number of fish seemingly just waiting to take our baits. On our first day and night, with most still fishing the way they did it back home, catches were small, consisting of yellowfish and small catfish, but it was enough to whet the appetites for what, Frits and I informed our enthusiastic guests, would certainly be bigger. On the second afternoon, after another good 20 or so kilometre stint, the anglers followed our advice and started using the recommended tackle - big hooks and big baits and the catfish catches were on the up and up. Robbie Gilbertson landed one of 14.46 kg, Frits one of 13.46kg and there were many others in the 8 to 12 kilogram class. Small by Orange River standards, but large enough to provide good fishing sport for anglers used to catching catfish up to only five kilograms. Having been very active throughout the day, after dinner some just wanted to fall into their sleeping bags and snore; others a little more energetic watched their lines, others told jokes, all under the cool, silvery sheen that the moon cast over the campsite from a cloudless, black sky, the stars twinkling like diamonds around the Milky Way. I did hear some comment that the trip was well worth it, if just to experience such nights in the outdoors next to the country’s greatest river! “So here we are!” head guide Goran would sing out as he guided us onto a grassy bank to set up camp for the night. After paddling the twenty or so kilometres during the day, we all felt the strain, so what a pleasure it was to climb out of the canoe and flop down on the grass. But not for long, as the rods were quickly set up and fishing began, continuing to well after dusk. Dinner was taken care of by the guides and the safari guests according to a duty roster for kitchen duty, which was a fair arrangement. So while the others cast their lines the on duty guys would get out grill, firewood was collected, and tables were put up - complete with tablecloths. Each day’s dinner centred on one or other meat dish cooked over hot coals, with the accompanying side dishes precisely listed in the guide’s handbook, together with precise directions on how to prepare everything. One night we enjoyed peri-peri chicken quarters, salads and beer bread, other nights featured prime steaks, boerewors and mutton chops. The second night out we had ice cream and chocolate sauce after some of the most succulent steaks ever eaten accompanied by “pufadders”*³. Every late afternoon snacks were served – patês and crackers, cocktail onions, cheeses and crisps. All this was followed by after dinner choc mints and coffee. Everything was organised and in its own place with no fuss and bother. Used plates were first of all rinsed in soapy water, then in buckets of clean water. Breakfasts were simple but wholesome – fruit juice, cereal, eggs, sausages, creamed mushrooms on toast, cheese, marmalade and jams, tea or coffee, plus fresh fruit. More than enough! Mid-morning breaks featured biscuits, chocolate bars and and energy drinks. There was also fruit – oranges and apples. Other nights featured spareribs, sosaties, pufadders and desserts that were amazing given the circumstances: fruits such as leechies and cherries with custard, trifle and canned fruit and cream..! Bradley made the banana flambé and Goran the beer bread. Throughout the safari there was indeed enough food for all - and it was five star – culminating on our final night with mutton potjie complete with a beer bread on top of it. There was really no need to take any sort of supplementary food along – the food was good, and more than sufficient, with seconds if anyone wanted more. All three guides were absolute stars on the river. And, we were happy to be told, they did consider our group to be of the best paddlers they had ever guided. Of course our fishing exploits grabbed their interest, to such an extent that they all wanted to be on the next fishing safari. “No man, I never expected something like this!” said ex-Springbok bank angler Chris Kruger after hooking , landing and releasing his first ten pounder. It was a typical reaction of the guest anglers when tangling with their first Orange River catfish. “My tackle is far too small and light,” he admitted “here I have to fish much heavier!” Exactly! All the guests quickly realised that their fishing techniques and tackle used back home just don’t cut it in the lower Orange. On our first session Frits and I at first kept a low profile, but made sure the guests could see what our tackle looked like, in particular the hookbait. Fishing for the abundant smallmouths that were used for bait, our set ups were much like what was used at home, such as smaller hooks, lighter outfits with Dutch Floats and small pieces of chicken liver on the hooks - nothing out of the ordinary. But everything changed when we tackled up for catfish. More than once someone would jokingly cry out: “Hey guys, you after sharks with that whole fish on the hook?” The joke would soon be on the guest however when we landed catfish of 10kg to 15kg. That’s when more than one guest would sheepishly admit that they had not believed our tackle advisory and we would have to help them out with the big stuff. Fortunately we had expected this so had sufficient spares to do so. The hookbaits necessary for big catfish were also a big surprise for the first timers. Used to paste baits and earthworms they found it hard to believe that we used whole fish for bait – the tails were cut off and several slices made in the body, with a few blows on the head to help release the oils into the water, and then hooked through the mouth, using hooks nothing smaller than 7/0 or 8/0, namely the wide gape and ever dependable Van der Merwe pattern. And then, as a final touch, a touch up on the hook point with a hook sharpening stone. All the anglers reported catching their personal bests on the trip. Elize de Villiers from Vanderbijlpark and a member of the OAC*², also landed a 0,75 kg yellow to establish a ladies OAC record. Her fishing friend Penny Smith also landed her fair share. Tony Gatzke of Springs took a smallmouth yellow of about 1,8 kg, which was the largest smallmouth of the trip, while other anglers such as Danie Weyers of Kempton Park and Chris Kruger also took yellows in this class, but targeting the yellows was just for catching bait when it was needed. After landing two catfish of 18kg-plus and one of over 24kg, anything smaller seems insignificant, but fact of the matter is that for pure fishing fun this river cannot be beaten. Anglers certainly display a character trait - namely a love and passion for fishing - that very quickly enables them to change from being just a group of strangers into a harmonious band of outdoor enthusiasts. As Frank Lottering , the man who caught the heaviest catfish of the safari commented when he was handed a prize for doing so, “It was of course great to land the biggest fish, but what made it so much more enjoyable was that it seemed as if all my new friends were even more pleased by my success!” Of course there are those a little more subdued, and those quite outgoing, but with a shared love of fishing no one ever felt out. Fish stories were aplenty, help was always on hand and freely given, and of course the jokes flowed freely. Tom Parkes of Pretoria even established what he jokingly referred to as the “reverse turtles club” – namely those who carried the shell on their stomachs! And Tony Gatzke, the self-styled captain of a group of miners who called themselves the ‘Booze Cruise Team’ - after two days their beer supplies were very low so he called a meeting and instituted a ration system, but when he noticed that a beer or two would “disappear”, he called a meeting and they decided to demolish the entire supply, which they did one night – with no more booze, the name also died a sudden death! All the way from Gaberone came Giuliano Signorelli and his two sons, Giulio and Axel. Axel said he wanted to also catch a record fish, while Giulio said he was ‘forced’ on the tip - evidently not an outdoor type! They never caught a record, but certainly caught their fair share of fish and had loads of fun. It’s amazing how such a fishing safari out in the wilds, far away from any telephone connections and the trappings of city life, quickly forges a group of strangers into a cohesive group! Time seemed to stand still – who knew, or cared, whether it was Monday or Tuesday. Or what the time was. On the river you lived according to sun-up and sun-set. And what the fish were doing! While the main attraction was a great big catfish, catching the bait, the abundant Smallmouth-yellowfish was also great fun and an exciting bonus. Here is Tony Gatske with his first smallmouth yellowfish he had caught in his life, and Elize de Villiers, one of the two ladies on the safari, with her fish of 0,75kg that set an OAC ladies record. It was also a perfect-sized bait! ** The “River Runners” operation no longer exists, but there are several other operators of canoe safaris on the river. *¹ One of the most popular hook designs of the time, ‘Van der Merwe’ hooks with their extremely wide gape and relatively short shank had to be sharpened every time you tied one on, but with the advent of the modern J-hook design, chemically sharpened hookpoints and now also circle hooks, it has largely fallen into disuse. *² The “OAC” – Open Angling Club was established by the Hengel/Angling magazine to accommodate otherwise unaffiliated anglers the opportunity to register national records. *³ Pufadder is an African equivalent of the Scottish haggis – an aromatic, spiced mixture of sheep’s liver, onions, herbs and spices wrapped in sheep’s net fat and braaied over medium hot coals.