AT THE BEACH | Hunt for the big one continues on Wild Coast

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“Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.” — Henry David Thoreau.

The allusion is that it is the church of the blue open sky, fresh air, sea breeze, rock pools, adventure, friendships, tackle, challenge, a mermaid perhaps, or just a break from the daily grind that is the real reward.

The allied events rather than the fish is the real take home. But not for my friend Stuart Bright. He honestly is after the fish. One in particular.

I have the spectacular privilege of being mates with Stuart Bright. I say spectacular because right now as I write to you I am sitting in the Jacobsen Cottage, Cebe, on the Wild Coast.

It is dark outside. The sun has not come up yet and the gquma of the ocean (sound of the crash and rumble of the waves) is my companion while the rest of the house sleeps.

I write best at the beginning of the day when my mind is freshly awake with brand new thoughts, uncluttered by the thorns and the thistles that occur in the ordinary run of many a day.

Bright is haunted by a fish. Caught from the rocks in this area. Its profile is on the cottage wall. “J M Evatt 73lb Black 20/7/61 6.05pm.”

The tradition of the house starting with Evatt’s impossible monster is that momentous fish from time to time are outline-traced on cardboard, cut out and then transferred onto the lounge wall.

No surprise then that the Evatt giant black steenbras is of excellent proportions. It should be. It was traced.

Part of the big deal is the art of the picture: The brush work deserves respect.

Down to the scales, the art skill is impressive and I wonder what paint was used that it has held up so well.

The impressive rendition is 64 years old. It must have taken Evatt forever to capture both with rod and line and then especially so with pencil and paint.

“Hunting is the noblest sport yet devised by man. There were mighty hunters in the bible, and all the caves where the cavemen lived are full of carvings of assorted game ...” — Robert Ruark.

Evatt’s black is a noble beast if ever there was one, and along with friends Sean Nass, Steve Scheepers, Warren Seymour and myself, we are in Bright’s posse in pursuit of a similar mighty fish.

I was last here about five years ago and Stuart was also chasing his monster then.

I don’t know how long he has been chasing this dream but it might almost be unfortunate if he does catch his leviathan. What will he do after that?

It may be better if the prehistoric Cymatoceps Nasutus Poenskop is left to roam, but still we are in the hunt.

JLB Smith documents Black Steenbras, Saqomolo (native) by many names and Poenskop (Afrikaans) means bald head.

“Found only in SA and nowhere abundant,” this is the go big or go home fish.

Bright, Nass and Seymour have landed and released many Poensies under target size, sometimes returning without a bite and more than a couple of times coming home shaking with adrenaline and with smashed up tackle.

Big Poensies are sheer brutes and the Evatt fish off the rocks is just phenomenal.

A 33kg (73lb converted) black in deep sea fishing is possible but trying to repeat this catch by rock and surf angling is a wild dream.

More than 10 to 12kg fishing from the side, the ability of a Poensie to destroy the strongest of tackle and angler is legendary.

I prefer “scratching”. This refers to light tackle and panfish. Kind of like fishing for those with ADHD.

You are always busy with something, even if it is small, and very often get something to eat.

Bright did get one legal black and along with some blues it became our seafood supper.

Included last night was Bright’s party trick, deep fried battered oysters, a dash of mayo, a drop of Tabasco, on a salty cracker and down the hatch. Both a culinary adventure and a privilege.

Also on the wall in the house among the painted pisces is a Bronze Bream, 8lb, caught by Les Jacobsen.

Again I am stunned by the sheer art and I wonder at the paint and technique used because the golden bronze, blue, grey, yellow and brown depicted are staggeringly close to what I see when I catch a bluefish on the rocks.

I am grateful to accompany Bright and friends on our breathtaking Eastern Cape Wild coast in pursuit of conquest.

Even if the beast does not arrive, the trip is worth the trouble and let me tell you those roads are trouble — do not venture in an ordinary sedan.

In a place where a bundle of chain is welded in rust, the ship’s anchor locker came to rest. The wreck is of unknown name to this writer.

The remnant of the boiler remains visible and defines a favourite fishing hole.

A swathe of forest is permanently denuded from a meteorite that came crashing through who knows how many years ago?

Goodness gracious we live on a fantastic coast.

North of Wavecrest and south of Mazeppa, down to the sea from Tafalofefe Hospital, the hunt for the big one continues.