And the "Fishman" title goes to...

me.

More on the trip to Kosi Bay at a later stage, but I just had to put this up. Fishman admitted when we got home last night that I had the right to take the name from his blog. Well, I'm not going to do that, but I will claim the trophy for Fishman of the Year seeing as I was the only one (not for the lack of trying by everyone else) to catch something on our fishing expedition...

Here's why...or, at least, the two reasons why...

Brown Skate - estimated 18 to 20kg - released
Stingray - estimated 10kg - released (caught on the last cast of the trip)


As I say, over the next few days in Hermanus I'll draw up a full account of the trip and stick it up here with some of the other photos...stay tuned...

Old Jacob...

Trevor the farmer was in the fertilised egg business. He had several hundred young layers (hens), called 'pullets' and eight or ten roosters, whose job was to fertilise the eggs.

The farmer kept records and any rooster that didn't perform went into the soup pot and was replaced. That took an awful lot of his time so he bought a set of tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell had a different tone so Trevor could tell from a distance, which rooster was performing. Now he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency report simply by listening to the bells.

The farmer's favourite rooster was old Jacob, and a very fine specimen he was too. But on this particular morning Trevor noticed old Jacob's bell hadn't rung at all! Trevor went to investigate. The other roosters were chasing pullets, bells-a-ringing. The pullets, hearing the roosters coming, would run for cover. But to farmer Trevor's amazement, Jacob had his bell in his beak, so it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to the next one.

Trevor was so proud of Jacob, he entered him in the Durban Country Fair and Jacob became an overnight sensation among the judges. The result.was the judges not only awarded Jacob the No Bell Piece Prize but they also awarded him the Pullet Surprise as well.

Clearly Jacob was a politician in the making: Who else but a politician could figure out how to win two of the most highly coveted awards on our planet by being the best at sneaking up on the populace and screwing them when they weren't paying attention.

Do you know a politician called Jacob?

Fishman phoned me on Saturday afternoon...

to brag about having serviced and packed all his fishing gear for the upcoming Kosi Bay trip, but guess what? I'd been out shopping that morning, bought the tackle to replenish my stock, cleaned all the gear and packed it in the study waiting to be put into the bakkie as well. All the rock and surf stuff, as well as the dropshot rods and reels are ready to go and land some big'uns. Hell, if we're lucky, we may land more than we did last year, which was......well...fuckall.

I even had the time to make (yes, I sewed them on Steph's machine as well) four little denim cloth bags for my saltwater reels as I don't want them getting bashed about in my tackle bag. I even made the bags with drawstrings so that I can hang them on the reels while the line is in the water so that the salt spray does not cover the reels. Salt water is, as you may know, acidic, and can cause some nasty markings on equipment and machinery. When you pay ZAR2,000 for a fishing reel you make sure you look after it. Now I won't even have to wash them at the end of the day.

Now all I need to do is buy some booze and put together the bits and pieces for camping and I'm ready to go. And, as Fishman put it, all we need is for someone to make the next week go away so that we can go fishing...

Now that the Lemmings are back from holiday, it's time for me to take some vacation...

and this year, I'm doing the fishing trip thing again with Fishman and a couple of drinking mates, for four days at the same venue as last time...Kosi Bay. That means heat, humidity, mozzies and lots of drinking...ah well, someone has to do it and it may as well be us.

After that, I'm back in Shit Towne for a day, then Steph and I go down to Hermanus for ten days. We were going to drag the caravan down, but I found a great-looking little place call Eirene Cottage, right on Hermanus beach, for only ZAR350 per day. I shit you not...dirt cheap, so I took it.

For now though, I'm in Shit Towne, battling to get through the work week until the holiday starts...

I must have been a good boy last year...

cos Santa Steph bought me my very own "boat", or float-tube to be more exact for Christmas.

The boat is used to get into all those difficult spots on a fly fishing lake, and I've lusted after one for a while now.

I had a suspicion of what was in the rather large box in the back of the bakkie, once she'd wrapped it in traditional wrapping paper and laboured to carry it from the house to the car (before you think "how chauvinistic", I was expressly told I was not allowed to touch it, or even help carry it). She also gave me a hint as to the contents while we were driving down to my folks ("Did you bring your waders with you?), but it was still a very pleasant surprise when I ripped the paper off on Christmas morning.

Needless to say, I didn't want to blow it up (no, not suicide bomber style) but left it until we got home a few days later. Then I hauled it out to the pool, got out the new pump, and the instructions, and sent the inflated boat into the pool with an "I christen thee Catchalot", minus the broken champagne bottle cos that would have shredded the boat and sent it straight to the bottom of the pool.

Naturally, I had to get a couple of pictures to let you know what the boat looks like...




Now, I'm really looking foward to our next trip out to Dullstroom so that I can get out and catch some fish instead of just using it as a drinks tray as I was above...