Few people know South Africa’s premier dry fly destination, Sterkfontein Dam, as well as David Weaver, aka Dawiegras, Brave Dave. But his fly fishing savvy extends way further, to the salt and beyond, except for spotted grunter. He can’t help you there.  

I was lucky enough to grow up in a Hooks + Bullets family, three elder brothers and a dad who were all keen hunter-fisher folk. We had many traditions in our family regarding fishing. One of them was the Redrod. It was loaded with a push-button close-faced reel. This rig had been handed down and used by the youngest in the family for years. It was an honour when I was considered old enough to use the Redrod on my own. While my older brothers and dad were casting Penn 49s and big spoons for yellowtail off the front of Whale Rock in False Bay, I would fish in the gully behind the rock for Hottentots, blacktail and, if lucky, a galjoen. So, besides a klipvis on a handline, where I used a smashed periwinkle for bait, the first fish that stands out in my mind was a Hottentot caught on the Redrod in the gully behind Whale Rock. The Redrod and reel are now proudly mounted on the wall in our cottage at Pringle Bay. 

During the week I’m a chef for pigs and chickens. Jokes aside, we have a feed mill, manufacturing monogastric feeds. In terms of the jobs I’ve had, I have been a reluctant soldier, a camera salesman, a teacher, a miller, and a fly fishing/birding guide. During the summer months I guide on Sterkfontein Dam and now, in the winter months, I am getting more and more requests from people wanting to do LBJ (little brown jobs) birding weekends. That’s larks, pipits and cisticolas. 

As a fly fisher, when someone asks about home I assume they are asking about home water. Somerset West was my first home, where we fished the Lourens River for trout. Then Dad was transferred to Modderfontein and so the Dullstroom municipal dam became our home water. I then spent my high school years at SACS in Newlands and, believe it or not, we caught trout in the Liesbeek River just below the school grounds. After military service I enrolled at Pietermaritzburg University (now University of KwaZulu-Natal). This move was motivated by the incredible reports that I had read in the Cape Piscatorial Society’s Piscator magazine of the lunkers that John Beams, Hugh Huntley and Tom Sutcliffe were catching in the Natal Midlands.  

“To be able to drink the water into which I’m casting a line is a privilege that I will never take for granted.” 

Richards Bay, which offered great birding and good fishing, would be my next home water. I lived there for 10 years, and that’s where I started dabbling with fly fishing in the salt. My first springer and garrick were caught on Muddlers Minnows. A mate returned from the USA with Lefty Kreh’s book, Saltwater Flies, and then the tying and the fanaticism for saltwater fly fishing really bit hard. Surrounded by keen fly tiers and enthusiastic anglers, we formed the Oxeye Flyfishing Club and for 10 years I lived in saltwater fly fishing paradise. Twenty-seven years ago I moved to Harrismith and discovered that even though there was a dwindling population of trout in Sterkfontein Dam, there was a new species to challenge me, yellowfish. I’ve lived here ever since and Sterkies is my home. 

Sterkfontein Dam is the best still water, sight-fishing, dry-fly destination in Africa, if not the world. To be able to drink the water into which I’m casting a line is a privilege that I will never take for granted.  Then to be surrounded by the stunning Eastern Free State sandstone cliffs, with the Drakensberg looming in the distance, is like a soul-restoring tonic.   

The worst part about Sterkies is the wind, and the best part is that after 25 years of guiding on the dam I am still humbled by that water. Never a day passes that I don’t learn something new. The very best thing is double hook-ups all day long on a caddis sort of day. 

The smallmouth yellowfish of Sterkfontein Dam are the most beautiful, golden-coloured gamefish that you will ever encounter. They’re incredibly strong, wary, and they don’t suffer fools gladly. They behave differently at different times of the year and at different times of each day. They fight longer and harder than any other freshwater fish I have caught (besides carp). There are times when everybody is a professor and other days when they show the middle fin and you can’t buy a fish. They certainly keep you humble so don’t believe anyone who claims to “know” how to catch yellows on Sterkies, because, after 25 years of guiding on the dam, there are still many days where I don’t have the answers. There is nothing more soul destroying than spotting a cruiser, putting out the perfect cast, the fish swims up to the fly, hovers below it, then dips its head and moves on. They can terrorise you like that. I consider yellows on Sterkies to be the pinnacle of freshwater fly fishing in South Africa. First, you must be able to see the fish, put in the perfect cast that turns over, and lands the fly within a metre of the fish. Then you need to have nerves of steel and do not dorado-strike when, and if, the fish accepts your offering. Once hooked, getting the fish to the net is not as easy as it sounds because these yellows box way above their weight category. 

For Sterkies, I use a 5-weight rod and a large-arbor reel with a proper smooth drag, loaded with a floating line. I am always asked how long the leader should be, and my standard answer is, “as long as you can handle.” If you can turn over a 20-foot leader in a 15-knot wind, then do it. 5x tippet is only used on wind-free days and requires soft hands. As soon as there is chop on the water, we go stronger. This ensures that we can give cough mixture and get the fish released as quickly as possible. A 5-weight rod diminishes casting fatigue; a large-arbor reel allows you to pick up loose line far quicker; a floating line is all we use because we don’t go to the dark side.  So there’s no use for a sinker.  10-15 lb payara regularly breaks 40 lb wire so bring your 10-12-weight rods. You’ll need them if you get a big fish. 20+ lb is considered trophy size. An underarm retrieve with constant pressure on the fly along with a stinger or trailer hook is virtually mandatory. Their gill plates are as hard as medieval armour and their teeth as gnarly and as sharp as they look.  8-12 inch flies are needed with quality #4/0-#6/0 hooks. These fish are a sportfishers dream!

JOIN THE CULT OF FLY FISHING: SHOP THE MISSION

If you could only use one fly on Sterkies, then it would be one of Hans van Zyl’s Purple Beetles. They are durable, float well and imitate a whole range of the beetle population found on the water. We do use different beetles at different times of the day and in different parts of the dam. Purple beetles, early and late and on dark days, mainly on the western shores and copper ones on the eastern shores on bright sunny days. As far as hoppers go, it is vital to look at which hoppers are around. Walk through the grass along the banks and take note of the hoppers that are there. Size is more important than exact colour matching. We then only use hoppers along the banks with an offshore wind, where the chances of them blowing onto the water is greater. Hoppers are also a favourite in the scum lines.  

“There is nothing more soul destroying than spotting a cruiser, putting out the perfect cast, the fish swims up to the fly, hovers below it, then dips its head and moves on.”

When it comes to ants, we generally have three hatches. The tiny 20# black ants hatch mid-morning, late season, and they are impossible to imitate. It’s a guide’s worst nightmare. If you manage to get an imitation on the water at the start of the hatch you can still catch but, once the fish tune into the ants’ formic acid, then even a perfectly tied 24# black ant pattern on 6x tippet doesn’t work. In mid-season we get the small red termites hatching around midday and this is the hatch we dream of. And then in late February/March we get the large termite alates after a thunderstorm and this is also great to witness but tough to convert. Caddis patterns catch a lot of fish in the right conditions. My fly of choice, if I get a chance to cast a line, is an F-fly. 

My father always said, “Don’t leave fish to go find fish.” Very apt on Sterkies. The best advice that I can give on Sterkies is… “Don’t cast where you can see there are no fish, rather cast where you can’t see there are no fish.” 

I am most proud of my two beautiful daughters. 

The greatest party trick I have even seen was from a mate in Richards Bay who had a glass eye. One evening in the yacht club, a girl we were chatting with asked us to, “Please keep an eye on my handbag while I pop to the loo.” Joe obliged, removed his glass eye and placed it on her bag. She fainted. 

Something I have really had to work at in life is Excel. Casting a fly line came naturally. 

Being a species basher, I really enjoy trying to catch different species on fly. It’s a great challenge because you first need to read up on what that species’ main food source is, then do research on that insect… benthic, invertebrate, algae… whatever the preferred diet might be. Then you head to the tying desk and try creating a working imitation. Flathead mullet were plentiful in Richards Bay and a species that I needed for my list. After dragging myriad shrimp patterns in front of many a shoal of flatheads, I saw someone feeding them on brown bread at the yacht club. I tied up a DDD/bread pattern, put a few slices of bread in my pocket and headed down to the club. I had a cracking afternoon and ticked flathead mullet off my list. 

My go-to drink is African Java Pinotage (Van Loveren), and Bain’s (whisky) for the pains. 

One place never again? Voortrekkerhoogte.  Army days.  

One place I have to return to? St Brandon’s Atoll. 

It is OK for an angler to lie… down on the couch after a long day of casting with blank returns.  

The handiest survival skill I have is being able to cook. A skill I would like to master is catching spotted grunter. I’ve caught striped, grey, javelin and olive, but those spotties elude me. I’m considering starting a support group, the SGBA (Spotted Grunter Blankers Anonymous). “Hi my name’s Dawiegras, and I still haven’t caught a spotted grunter.” … Tom Lewin, you in?

The biggest adventure I’ve ever been on involved my glass-eyed mate and his 12-foot sailboat, well a dinghy really. Four of us thought it would be cool to sail up to Inhaca Island, Mozambique for the Easter weekend as part of the annual Inhaca Island Yacht Race. Joe had his skipper’s licence and I had sailed a bit, but Mark and TJ didn’t know their jib from their mainsails. “They’ll learn quick enough,” said Joe. Soon after leaving the Richards Bay harbour, a monster southerly wind came through, TJ and Mark succumbed to seasickness and retired to the cabin. Joe and I sailed that tub in the worst conditions for two days and two nights, eating peanuts and raisins all the way to Inhaca. The only time we saw the rest of our “crew” was when they opened the hatch to vomit at our feet. Race organisers announced yacht Fairwinds “unaccounted for”. We eventually got there and had a jol at Inhaca, then had another nightmare coming home. But that’s a longer story. I still have the medal but we came home last, a day after the other contestants. We did get a special bravery award, but that’s where I learned that there is a very thin line between “bravery” and “stupidity”. Joe sold Fairwinds (so named because that’s what it needed) shortly thereafter. The other big adventure involved trying to see a green-headed oriole on Mount Gorongosa in Mozambique. Another long story. 

The best way to face one’s fears is with sage advice from your elders. 

Before I die I would like to catch a spotted grunter on fly. No, seriously, I would love to fish and bird in the Amazon. To be casting to peacock bass and have flocks of red and blue macaws coming to harvest kaolin from the riverbank around us, is number one on my bucket list. 

I believe fly fishing has many stages, it certainly has in mine. 

• Stage 1. You want to catch a fish, any fish. 
• Stage 2. You want to catch lots of fish, it’s all about the numbers. 
• Stage 3. You want to catch big fish; it’s all about the Facebook post. 
• Stage 4. You want to catch many different species; it’s all about the exotic locations. 
• Stage 5. You just want to go fishing; it’s the escape from mundanity that restores sanity. 
• I believe that I am now in Stage 6, where I get great satisfaction out of guiding and watching other people catch fish. 

If I could change one thing in fly fishing, it would be to convince people to keep the fish in the water, in the net. Remove the fly and wait until its gills have slowed down, and when your camera is ready, only then lift the fish out the water. I’d also teach people that line management is the most important thing in fly fishing, not the price of your equipment. 

Looking back on my life thus far, the only thing I’d do differently is catch a spotted grunter. 

Something I have changed my mind about is whether spotted grunter can be caught on fly. 

The last fish I caught was not a spotted grunter! 

This interview first appeared in The Mission Issue 52 (July/August 2025). You can read the whole thing below, for free, forever.

THE MISSION is home-grown and hand-rolled with blood, sweat and beers. You can buy us one on Patreon.