Sudesh Pursad, hot from the Frontpage of Sexyloops:
I was fishing 2005 National Championships and had drawn a guy by the name of Jacques Marais as my boat partner. Now Jacques is an amazing angler who had incredible skill and mental toughness, so I was lucky to draw him as I could “steal with my eyes” as we fished. [...]
So Jacques and I set out on a pontoon boat. After fishing the first one hour hard, we still had not a take between us. Really hard going, even though we knew up front that Lakenvlei is a tough beat. The water was dead calm and the serenity of the valley that we were in must have got to Jacques. He just lay across the pontoons facing the sky, and then tilted his head backwards until it was just above the water surface. Puzzled and completely fishing focused, I thought that this was rather strange behaviour – in the midst of a fishing session as well. “Try this”, he suggested. Not intending to miss something, I did…
I cannot accurately describe the view and the feeling; suffice to say that it was nothing like anything that I had ever experienced. The upside down world, with mountainous cliffs, the stillness of the water, the sweet sounds of a few birds, a very gentle breeze all reflecting off the smooth water surface just seemed to be amplified by it many times over. I was awestruck. In those moments of peace and tranquillity in an upside down world, calmness drained away the tension created by the stage. WOW!! We savoured every moment for at least ten minutes, lying there on our backs with our heads just above the water.
Where’s my boat? I need some perspective.
With winter coming up, pike season is upon us. This guy — who is clearly too good to be true — reminds us what a delicate business it is to tie a fly. A pike fly. Manly flies.
Actually, the result looks quite fishy to me. But the style, O the style…
I think I just found the anti-Weilenmann. That’s even better than Higgs’ Boson. If these two ever were to shake hands, they would probably disintegrate, releasing an amount of energy approximating the sum of their masses by the celerity of light squared.
Same stuff probably happened a 6500 years ago in the Crab nebula. I guess pike season is over up there.
This is Noam, my elder.
I told him: focus on your stop, and let the loop happen. Then I returned to the big boys’ business (there was a shootout going on). Happily, someone with her priorities better sorted than mine took a couple of pictures (let Isabelle be wholeheartedly thanked here).
He was doing really good on his own, boy I’m so proud.
I’m building a sweet 6’6 3wt that will be a better match to his arm.
Carp and mullet on the fly are definitely high in my bucket list. I know where I could get perfect conditions and even first class friendly advice, but alas none of it closer than a good 10 hours drive. I guess I’ll have to make it happen by myself.
Meanwhile, I dream about carp on the flats. And flats I can actually drive to, mind you. Boy, I need to do that.
Some dude who probably did not have to sell a kidney to get to this fish
Who needs the Caribbean sea?
flycarpin’ with attitude
Pete on Sexyloops posted today a page from Pratchett’s Reaper Man, that’s waaaaaay too good not to share it with you. Here is goes, thanks Pete!
The sun was near the horizon.
The shortest-lived creatures on the Disc were mayflies, which barely make it through twenty-four hours. Two of the oldest zigzagged aimlessly over the waters of a trout stream, discussing history with some younger members of the evening hatch.
“You don’t get the kind of sun now that you used to get,” said one of them.
“You’re right there. We had proper sun in the good old hours. It were all yellow. None of this red stuff.”
“It were higher, too,”
“It was. You’re right.”
“And nymphs and larvae showed you a bit of respect.”
“They did. They did,” said the other mayfly vehemently.
“I reckon, if mayflies these hours behaved a bit better, we‘d still be having proper sun.”
The younger mayflies listened politely.
“I remember,” said one of the oldest mayflies, “when all this was fields, as far as you could see.”
The younger mayflies looked around.
“It’s still fields,” one of them ventured, after a polite interval,
“I remember when it was better fields,” said the old mayfly sharply.
“Yeah,” said his colleague. “And there was a cow.”
“’That’s right! You’re right! I remember that cow! Stood right over there for, oh, forty, fifty minutes. It was brown, as I recall.”
“You don’t get cows like that these hours.”
“You don’t get cows at all.”
“What’s a cow?” said one of the hatchlings.
“See‘?” said the oldest mayfly triumphantly. “That’s modern Ephemeroptera for you.” It paused. “What were we doing before we were talking about the sun‘?”
“Zigzagging aimlessly over the water,” said one of the young flies. This was a fair bet in any case.
“No, before that.”
“Er ….you were telling us about the Great Trout.”
“Ah. yes, Right. The Trout. Well, you see, if you’ve been a good mayfly, zigzagging up and down properly – ”
“ – taking heed of your elders and betters – “
“ – yes, and taking heed of your elders and betters, then eventually the Great Trout – ”
“Yes?” said one of the younger mayflies.
There was no reply.
“The Great Trout what?” said another mayfly, nervously,
They looked down at a series of expanding concentric rings on the water.
“The holy sign!” said a mayfly. “I remember being told about that! A Great Circle in the water! Thus shall be the sign of the Great Trout!”
The oldest of the young mayflies watched the water thoughtfully. It was beginning to realise that, as the most senior fly present, it now had the privilege of hovering closest to the surface.
“They say,” said the mayfly at the top of the zigzagging crowd, “that when the Great Trout comes for you, you go to a land flowing with…., Flowing with…..” Mayflies don’t eat. It was at a loss.
“Flowing with water,” it finished lamely.
“I wonder,” said the oldest mayfly.
“It must be really good there,” said the youngest,
“’Cos no one ever wants to come back.
that’s what you’ll pay for absolutely first class casting tuition if you go shopping for that in Sexyloop’s Auctions. It’s for a cause and here’s what you can do to help. Helping is good for your karma, and my honey bunny — who holds a doctorate in Indian Studies — assures me that karma enhancement translates immediately in tighter loops. A known fact at least since the ninth century.
Casting gods. You want to be like them.
The best guys in the world commit to works their ass off in order to tidy up a little our crappy casting. It’s too good to be true, and it’s happening there, there, there, there, there, and there. That’s right, no less than six different opportunities to take the next step on the soteriological stair that leads to the casting gods.
The reader familiar with Every Day in May’s prompts will have noticed how astutely I covered both the More Fish and the Greenery themes in just one masterful picture. If that’s not virtuosity, I don’t know what that is.
No, thanks, you don’t need to tell me.
As bugs go, everything you want to know about their private life, and some more, is documented in this awesome animated series. It’s French, but it doesn’t matter since bugs don’t talk. Its hilarious, poetic, and very beautiful. Show this to your kids!
What I did on Thursday
2 pounds of very angry rainbow putting some bend in my rod. I think I need more of that.
I’ve been searching for a line when I completed my 6wt. Since I was a regular at Marc’s Limp, I hadn’t failed to notice the new Barrio logo, a line brand he had mentioned already in some posts. So I asked him, and, not very surprisingly, he told me Barrio lines were really good.
And they are.
42.67m of super delicious orange polymer
I’m not (yet) what you would call a distance caster, not after 7 months, but that’s the way I’m headed. I like to fling a line, a lot. And I like to send it as far as I can. I suspect some testosterone is at play. Barrio does a distance line, the GT140S. That’s the one I picked up. Distance line here means three things:
- It’s long. 140′. So I’m not going to see that backing anytime soon. That means also it takes a lot of space in the reel.
- The belly is really long. This is not one of those things where all the mass is concentrated forward, in order to give you a good shoot with only a couple of yards in the air. On the contrary. The taper is designed so that the line behavior is stable, predictable, when you lengthen the amount you carry. I hate the former, and feel the later extremely comfortable. You feel really well what’s going one.
- It’s very visible. Mine is bright orange. Which is brilliant in order to get what Mike Heritage would call the sixth essential: to see what’s going on when you cast, especially with the backcast.
It sometimes splashes awfully, but I’m positive I’m the only one to blame. I’m sure in Marc’s hands it’s a whisper. And the best part (for cheap bastards like me)? It’s £24 incl. shipping.
I hate to admit it, but even if this one sounds like a commercial, it’s not. I’m not getting paid. I just love the line. Hey, Mike! If you read this, just send me a GT140 in 5wt, and I may also say that my sex life got much better since I’m using your lines.