The Battle of Lonehill
“Sometimes, thesardine.co.za has to venture inland. Even as far inland as The Big Smoke – Johannesburg. But it’s not all traffic and trouble…the fishing is actually loads of fun, as this papgooi showdown played out at the Lonehill Dam demonstrates.”
The Lonehill Koppie in Gauteng stands tall as a significant and historical landmark. It is one of the finest archeological sites in Africa being the custodian of artefacts and evidence of communities living there as far back as the 1600’s and earlier. Presumably the San or Bushmen occupied the site on which there is a large furnace below ground. It was most likely used to make cement from the ferricrete found all over the area. The koppies is made up of Tor rocks, which are weathered out veins that leave these huge rocks stacked up against one another.
During the Anglo-Boer war, it is reported, that a Dutch Squadron were trapped on Lonehill by the British. As the siege waged on, the Dutchmen’s bullets were running low, so they ingeniously started dislodging the huge rocks and raining them down over the Redcoats. It was a good tactic, typical of the guerilla warfare style the Dutch invented in that struggle, but it was not enough. With numbers, the British won over Lonehill Koppie.
To today. Just north of Lonehill Koppie, is Lonehill Loch…the scene of yet another epic battle.
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History seemed to be repeating herself, as we nestled into the dawn, under the magnificent landmark that is Lonehill Koppie, on the wall of the Lonehill Loch.
We were second on the battlefield. J.P. LeRoux, decked out in fighting regalia – a Lions T-shirt, was already setting up his encampment.
Dressed in Blue came in Mike Vorster, our team captain. Carrying boxes of bullets and stacks of rifles…he set up 20 metres north on the same bank as the Lion’s, whose team was growing. J.P.’s Dad was on the scene now.
Then came the straggling WP ous. Who setup south of the Lion’s camp, in the corner of the damn – a good spot. The dam layout consists of a serpentine like channel, that weaves around the floating islands, under the storks roosting spots, and back towards the bridge and wier. Between our positions, we had the damn completely covered.
J.P.’s earliness paid off and with some commotion, he was into a fish. Papgooi is just that. You get a trace with two hooks, one up and one down of a plastic goody that you encase (with your hands) in pre-prepared pap mixture, impregnated with the secret formula every papgooier holds so close to his heart. The hooks are tiny but strong and overall you are fishing between 6 and 10kg outfits – so when J.P.’s fish started ducking and diving and making strong repeated runs, dragging the fight out into minutes – it had to be something big. But, alas, we were never to know. The big presumed barbel was wily enough to have swam J.P.’s trace around one of the sharp rocks down there, and cut him off. It’s about three metres deep at the bank we were fishing. And the bottom is littered with structure. There are also chains anchoring the floating islands in place to avoid. And the very many lines that were now dotting baits all over the dam. Each man fishes with at least 2 rods. J.P. and Mike had 3 and 4 and 5 lines out sometimes.
I was helping Johnny van Biljon make the polisie koffie in the early morning light of the city, when it happened. I nearly jumped out of my skin as a reel screamed like a ‘couta was on and Mike scrambled for his rod. Vas! Mike fishes with scarborough 1:1 reels that cast like an Alvey (side cast reels) and it took quite some time to haul the beautiful little carp across the whole dam. Papgooier outfits can cast a hundred metres, and Mike reckons that the gymnasium in the shopping centre, built looming over his once deserted and pristine fishing hole, somehow leaks steroids and supplements into the water. So the fish in this pond fight harder than any others!
We released the little fish easily albeit we forgot our net, when J.P. went away again. I ran across and filmed J.P. and his Dad expertly subdue the first decent fish of the day. Carp are actually beautiful – these were common carp…not those ugly big things you see in the magazines. Maybe when I finally encounter one of them I will change my perspective, as I now did, with these common carp.
Photos and a quick release and the game was on. Mike started to get very serious and drink more coffee. It paid off and he got a sharp-toothed catfish next, the self same one we catch in the Umzimkulu and all over KZN.
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Then J.P. went one up again and the Bulls team of which I was part, were looking decidedly in second place.
In amongst all the action and the sun rising spectacularly over the city, there was a huge commotion as the W.P. squads rocket launcher launched straight into the damn! Someone forgot to set his drag! The guy flew into action – diving down the bank onto his rigs. He got hold of the firing one and rescued his others as the fish just kept charging away. He still had the fish on, an important one as their team wasn’t even featuring in the Battle of Lonehill this time. We all wondered how W.P. were going to perform in the Curry Cup final that same afternoon. The Battle of Lonehill all over again, for the umpteenth time in history. Die Engelse. The Boere. It’s always on pal! Damn that dam though and after a huge struggle, the hook finally pulled – it was straightened from that first immense pull! Mombakkies!
Then it was J.P. again…this time with a huge barbel that kept us all busy for 10 minutes.
The fishing was then just great. The fish bite real slowly, they first have to clean the ball of pap away – which makes the luminous polisieman float on the line bob like a seagull. Then the fish finds one of the two hooks, baited with ‘bolletjies’. Little candy like flavoured sweeties with a hard shell. You stick two of them onto each hook. We were using banana and vanilla, separately fished so we could tell what the fish were feeling like eating that day. When they swim off with the bait and feel something is up, they have the same instinct as a tuna or any other gamefish and just tear away from the scene, hooking themselves on the tiny and very sharp hooks. You fish with no drag, only the ratchet, so you have to set the hook manually, make sure, and then set the drag, to about a kilogram.
We were surrounded by people now. Early birds out. Fitness fanatics. Runner. 1000’s of them! But the action went on. It was neck and neck with the Bulls and the Lions all the way – just like a really good game of rugby, with third wheel W.P. just nowhere. But their revenge was in the pipeline of course.e had just been through this flurry of activity when my rod finally screamed. But it was another barbel, a decent size, that gave us the game we thought. I really wanted a carp – they fight on the surface and are really pretty in the early morning sun, but at least we were number one.
The Bulls were now ahead on numbers, but the Lions player J.P. had some serious weight as you can see from the photos. J.P. then stepped right up to the plate…and got this really good fish out…propelling the Lion’s way back into the lead, on weight, even though we had more fish.
The Lonehill Koppie begged climbing so we packed up very slowly, as J.P. just stared out at his multitude of baits. Mike was returning from the car with a load of ammunition, when J.P. went away again. These fish really are committed fighters and steering the heavy fish carefully around the island proved to be a real challenge. But not too much for J.P. LeRoux as his Dad once again expertly netted the biggest carp of the session. We were beat. Mike was barely containing himself, but it was a great catch and we were all actually stoked, although firmly in second place.
So, up the Lonehill Koppie we climbed. Through caves and tunnels. Around trees and up ladders. Until finally we were back on top. After soaking in the majesty of the world’s largest man made forest that is Gautengaleng – in a way making up for all the development, we couldn’t help but notice another sortie going on down at the damn.
J.P. was vas again!
