YES, I know the South Coast of KwaZulu-Natal has an ocean and 120km of pristine shoreline. That kind of speaks for itself. But I forgot about the all the inland rivers and dams. What was I thinking? Clearly not much.
So I am tromping around again in the hinterland after seeing a rather strange abandoned silo looking construction on the side of the road, with a big fish painted on it and some dates. Always curious, I hunted down the Farmers’ Association to find out what was potting.
Turned out to be the annual Paddock fishing competition. How totally cool – 30 farmers open their respective dams to complete strangers called fishermen for two days of bass hunting. Next thing I am driving around and all I see are tiny, wannabe boats on top of cars (they look more like big rubber tractor tyre tubes), long fishing rods sticking out of windows and camping chairs and picnic baskets literally bursting the seams of the cars.
Number plates from all over. Lots of city slickers here to catch a dose of the fun stuff. The stage for the prize-giving is threatening to collapse under the weight of prizes – all sponsored by the local community and businesses. Now that’s how it’s done. Everyone coming together. Just love it.
Having hooked up with some locals, I was coerced into a rather early start which rattled my cage a bit, being so sleepy that I left the main ingredients behind. Like a chair, coffee, rusks and blanket. Otherwise I was totally on track. Long before the chickens started crowing.
And also long before the fish started biting. Hurry up and wait. Still trying to figure this dam fishing thing out, excuse the pun, but according to the impressive attendance and number of entries, it must be me who is ignorant and yet to discover why putting slimy worms on the end of a long pointy stick whilst sitting on the side of dam, staring blankly, is fun.
So in good spirit, I hung around to witness the great excitement when the fish did start biting and really only because I heard the prize-giving was so much fun. I couldn’t lose face. I am the adventurous tourist after all.
So eventually – sleep deprived, hungry and thirsty, we get back to the farmers’ hall. Straight for the boerewors rolls, then a few cold ales with the guys (again, one cannot lose face amongst these intrepid fishermen) and soon the festivities really kicked in. One of our mates won a facial and nail treatment. Of course he is still hearing about that today. Others won awesome fishing kit. Shame, I think they were picking on him for being the worst fisherman.
So next up – a real sea fishing competition. Now that’s a different kind of action all together. I thought watching boats going out to sea and sitting on the horizon would be kind of like watching submarine racing, which we all know is so intense.
Proven wrong again. Boy am I learning a lot of stuff down here in this place which is so full of surprises. Camaraderie with young and old alike participating. I thought 18 year olds would be in a pub, not outsmarting the rusty old sunburnt and wrinkly sixty-something fishermen, but alas, at weigh in it was evident that there are tons of youngsters heavily gung ho into fishing.
Healthy, strapping young lads. If only I was 20 years younger. Ok, you read that wrong. Just 20 years younger to learn the art of fishing and compete. That’s all.
This competition was called the Hibberdene Couta Classic, with boats launching from as far as Durban in the north and Port Edward in the south. Seems the couta were hanging in the south as just about all the big ones (and that’s not a fisherman’s tale) were caught down there. And what a hero prize – a boat worth nearly R500 000. Not shabby at all.
Now totally hooked on the vibes at all these fishing competitions, I couldn’t help myself but head to Port Edward the following weekend – the big Marlin Ski-boat Festival. But you can catch anything you like – apparently it’s called a species competition with tag and release rules.
That’s cool but who is going to believe you caught anything at all? Fish don’t speak English, Afrikaans or Zulu. Mostly on account of the fact that their mouths are full of water and that they don’t socialise with people much. So who gets to back up the story? Oh technology – cell phone pictures. It got a bit technical for me after that, but the weather was just too awesome for words, so I donned my bikini, hat, sarong and glasses, and went to shoot some photos whilst waiting for the boats to come in.
Speaking of languages, fishermen have their own dialect too. Have you heard them speak about their equipment? I mean their tackle? I mean the stuff they use to catch fish. I understood one word. Fish Finder. The rest I will leave up to them. Hearty good fun was had at prize-giving, lots of happy folks (imagine the bliss of being out on the stunning Indian ocean for three days, with the odd visit by friendly dolphins and seagulls circling your boat?), and great bands to see us dancing into the night.
So camera full of pics and off again… now to meet up with a producer who has secured a 13 part series for one of the big TV broadcasters. He has been enthralled by the diverse offerings down here and has now committed to filming six episodes for prime time TV – that’s a hefty amount of filming when you consider all the other provinces they could be filming in.
It’s pretty confidential at this stage, the only clue I can give you is that we have a date. How did I get involved? It’s because I am Tilley the Accidental Tourist who has explored so much of the South Coast (and never leaving remember?) that I helped them with their location scouting. Local is lekker, even more lekker than before.
So until the next boat launches and the film stars start arriving, I shall leave you in peace. And if you are feeling a little left out and a tad jealous, then perhaps you check out South Coast Tourism’s event calendar for the rest of the year. There are masses amounts of things happening, so make some time for yourself. www.tourismsouthcoast.co.za
See you in Paradise.
So until we meet again, get your people to call my people. 0800 FINDME. Erratum: marketing@tourismsouthcoast.co.za
Signing out,
Inspector Clueless WITH a map aka Tilley the Tourist.
