In the Thomas & Thomas Zone 10’2 2-weight, Gerald Penkler discovers a rod that excels at euronymphing, handles streamers and dries, and comes into its own at sneaky sight-fishing in Europe and South Africa. Photos by Leonard Flemming, Gerald Penkler, Suzanne Penkler. As featured in The Mission Issue 46 (Jul/Aug 2024).

Passed from hand to hand around the lounge, the Thomas & Thomas Zone was given the cursory wiggle, shiver and shake. There was general incredulity that something so long, slender and light could ever land a fish.  

I have fished several 2-weight fly rods. They were generally small stream specialists with gentle actions and short 7- to 8-foot lengths. The T&T Zone 10’2 2-weight follows a very different design path influenced by the rise in popularity of euronymphing styles. Long, light and sensitive. And, while the tip can easily flick out a weighted nymph, the mid and butt sections have plenty in reserve for casting a longer line and fighting larger fish. 

“The T&T Zone 10’2 has great control and excels in that close 2-3 rod lengths range.” 

The overall finish of the rod is one of simplistic elegance. The cork is excellent, and the wraps are simple and clean.  

Over the last season I have put it through its paces casting nymphs, dries and even some small streamers for various species finning about in rivers and lakes across two continents. I live in the Netherlands but frequently head home to South Africa. 

Did I mention wind? Cowls pulled tight and leaning forward into a cold howling wind, Leonard Flemming and I trudged up a valley in the Western Cape. We walked silently, as the breeze swept away any attempts at conversation. Clambering through the fynbos and down into a sheltered bend in the river we tackled up. The small stream was flowing strongly and clear, although with a light peaty stain. The wild rainbows would certainly be feeding although, in these conditions, I felt more confident in nymphing tactics than casting dries. Tackled up, the T&T 10’2 felt nicely balanced by the Hardy Ultralite featherweight reel and a Rio Technical Euro Nymph line.    

“Throughout the day, the rod clicked through the gears of high-sticking, short-line nymphing, reaching over bushy embankments and some medium-distance upstream casts.”

Long upstream casts directly into the wind were impossible, so we employed stealth and fished close in. After attaching a sighter and a nymph with a 2mm tungsten bead I was ready. Sneaking up the side of the bank, I started using short casts working up the tail and towards the head of the pool. The head of this particular pool has a deep seam and undercut bank which always holds at least one speckled rainbow. Sure enough, after a few attempts at the right drift, the sighter pinged, the line tightened, and a little wild rainbow bolted out of the water. Throughout the day, the rod clicked through the gears of high-sticking, short-line nymphing, reaching over bushy embankments and some medium-distance upstream casts. It certainly has great control and excels in that close 2-3 rod lengths range. 

I thought that the long rod would be a problem with some narrow and very bushed sections of river but, if anything, I found it very useful to keep the line above the riverside vegetation. A tactic I have employed in very tight overhead situations is to split the rod and cast with the top half. Throughout the course of the day, I did find myself fiddling with the grip. My hands are on the large side and there was almost no way to hold it without my palm or index finger being off the grip. An extra cork ring or two would be useful although after several sessions my hand found a position that I now find very comfortable and I no longer notice it.  

“Nymph, tick. Dry, tick. Dry dropper, tick. How about bigger fish?”

With the nymphing test complete, I went in search of indigenous witvis using dry fly and dry dropper combos. Instead of the euronymphing line, the reel was now loaded with a Hardy Premium WF 2-weight fly line. Witvis are renowned for lightning-fast takes and quick rejections. In clear waters we have watched them swim up to a nymph, eat and reject it, leaving your indicator perfectly still. Sitting in a huge traffic jam as a result of roadworks, I impatiently waited as my prime sight-fishing window ticked away. 

The best time to sight-fish witvis is with a high sun behind you and calm conditions. That day was breezy, but there was enough sun to see fish if they were active on the surface. Sitting down on the high bank, I rigged up while scanning the surface. A rise. Not the relaxed head and tail rise, but a darting blast to the surface and back into the depths. They were active. 

“Ide are not the strongest fighters, but get fat, heavy, and use the current to their advantage. The rod had no problem fighting them.” 

With a #18 black nymph dangling underneath a small Klinkhamer I started stalking fish in the margins. It was not long before a fish appeared tight along the bank. Quickly pushing out a 15m cast, the fly landed lightly in the zone and I watched as a small witvis rush over to inspect the dry and then decided to take the dropper. I missed this one but, time and time again, the T&T Zone handled delicate presentations and 10-15m casts really well despite the light breeze. I did not find the bigger fish but had great fun catching and honing my reflexes on the smaller fish. 

There were a couple of occasions when I saw fish cruising in the surface 20m out and I struggled to get the distance and accuracy. I would not blame the Zone, but rather the fact that, especially with wind, using a 2-weight is like trying to throw a feather. Great presentation, but distance is not its strength. 

Nymph, tick. Dry, tick. Dry dropper, tick. How about bigger fish?   

“ It was critical to place the fly within a cup-size zone in front of the fish.”

Back in Holland, the large river I was fishing seemed completely devoid of fish. Usually ide, or diamond orfe, would be cruising the banks. Today was empty, mile after mile. Working my way up the bank I tried some blind casting with a small #14 Woolly Bugger with a 2mm tungsten bead. The Zone handled this surprisingly well, especially considering that I was facing into a light breeze. It was not bombing out long casts, but fairly easily pushed out 15-20m. The weight of the nymph certainly helped turn over the leader. I am not suggesting this is a streamer rod, but there are always instances when a small streamer is the magic bullet. After a further mile of no success, I saw them. Not ide, but a large school of bream, tailing on a shallow, muddy flat.  

European bream is a peculiar species. They are abundant, grow big and can be sight-fished on flats. However, they have a dark side. Firstly, they fight worse than a wet sock. Secondly, they can be incredibly slimy and snot up your net, hands and leader. Given these qualities, I don’t often target them, but when they are tailing on the flats I find it irresistible. 

They are skittish and even a light plop can send them scurrying for deeper water. I’ve also had difficulty getting them to eat consistently, especially on the mud flats in calf-deep water. Sitting down, I replaced the streamer with a small black nymph under an indicator. After 30 minutes, I had nothing to show for it. They simply ignored everything although I was sure that they were seeing them. Rather than putting the fly on the bottom, I decided to try to get the fly suspended just above their noses.

“I had one more test for the Zone this time, casting big dries to cruising ide.”

On this shallow flat, it meant suspending the fly just 15cm below the indicator. The #16 red Atomic Worm landed directly in front of a cruising bream. The bream kept swimming without a change in pace or direction, but the indicator went down. Lifting, I was convinced that I had foul hooked it in the fin. However, after a wet sock waffle it came into the net, and there, in the corner of its mouth, was the Atomic Worm. One, two, three bream fell to the same approach in quick succession. Code cracked, at least on this occasion. It was critical to place the fly within a cup-size zone in front of the fish. The Zone provided excellent accuracy and precision. Again, in the 2-3 rod lengths range.    

I had one more test for the Zone this time, casting big dries to cruising ide. These fish become very active in warm sunny weather, and today the plan was simple. Stalk along the riverbank, keep a low profile and cast big dries to large fat ide. Ide are spooky, have excellent eyesight, and do not move far for a dry. So it’s the delicate balance of casting close but gently enough so they do not spook. With the Zone now armed with a 12-foot leader and a big Balbyter ant pattern, I peered over some bushes into water.

Two ide were slowly finning diagonally away from me about 15m out. The perfect scenario as they were unlikely to see me and I could easily get a fly in front of them without the risk of lining them. The fly fluttered down about a metre in front of them and I waited as they slowly approached. One broke away from its partner. After an age of inspection, the ide gently rose and slurped it in. It thrashed about, in the typical headbanging fashion, and after I’d shot a few photos, it swam off strongly. 

Read the rest of Gerald’s review in The Mission Issue 46 below. It’s free and always will be.

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