Shrouded in apocryphal myth and urban legend, you’re more likely to hear a Mark Yelland story before you meet him. Tudor Caradoc-Davies tries to separate fact from fiction in The Mission Issue 12. Photos: Jono Shales and Mark Yelland archive.

Have you ever noticed that fly fishing is increasingly populated by people who look like they stepped out of an outdoor catalogue? Tall, rangey men with pilgrim’s beards and naturally beautiful women with dazzling white smiles. All impressively fit, healthy and unfairly blessed on the genetic front. They dress in designer fly fishing kit, travel the world as brand ambassadors, hashtag the crap out of Instagram (where they are often described as a “Public Figure”) and generally live the impossible dream.

“You want real? Try Mark Yelland.”

Sometimes it’s hard to identify with that. I don’t look like that, most of my fly fishing friends certainly do not. I don’t fish like that. It doesn’t seem real. They feel make-believe, the Disney/Mattel unicorns, mermaids and the fairies of fly fishing.

You want real? Try Mark Yelland. A preternaturally talented boytjie from the West Rand who lucked in to fly fishing straight out of college and stuck around for decades, Mark has ticked almost all the boxes of a life well fished. He’s rubbed shoulders with the gurus, run fly fishing stores, opened up new areas, represented his country at the highest level, taught hundreds of people to cast and fish and seen more salad days than a fat vegetarian. In the annals of Southern African fly fishing history and myth, the stories of Mark’s feats precede him and even if only half the stories connected to him are true, he’s not like you and me. He’s a legend.

Before I met Mark at the Jolly Roger for an interview over pizza and beer, I did what anyone nowadays does when they know nothing. I stalked him on Facebook to try get a sense of who he is. I then spoke to his friends and lastly, I spoke to the man himself.

Combined in no particular order, this is what I found. Read into it what you will.

RETAIL

Over the last two years, whenever we’ve featured South Africans with both local and global standing in the fly fishing world, many people start their stories with, “I was standing in Mark Yelland’s shop when…”

For Exmouth Fly Fishing’s Jono Shales, it was where the fly fishing bug first truly bit. For veteran guide, Arno Matthee, it was where he got the call to go to the Seychelles for the first time, a move that would shape his career.

Things just appeared to happen in Mark’s orbit or at the very least, within range of his shop. Which one of the shops Mark worked for? It didn’t matter. Stories emanate from all of them.

His first fly fishing store job was at The Fly Fisherman in Pietermaritzburg. He got the job there after meeting Tom Sutcliffe, the doyenne of South African trout fishing.

“A persistent smile and a total disregard for time.”

Tom says, “Sometime back in the 80s I met up with a young man by the name of Mark Yelland at a special place, the well-known Old Dam above the Dargle Valley in KwaZulu-Natal. Mark had phoned to ask for a day’s fishing, preferably, as he put it, on the Old Dam, which even back then had already earned the mantle of a hallowed water. And it deserved the reputation. It was a sublime place to fish; islands of tall reeds flanking deep, clear water, weed beds with promising holes as wide and as deep as two car garages and plenty of hog-sized browns and rainbows. It still is a hot fishing spot from what I hear.

“Mark back then was an enthusiastic young fly fisher with a thatch of blond hair, a persistent smile and a total disregard for time, at least when it threatened to intrude on his fishing. He was as keen as fresh horseradish sauce, and he did well that day, wrestling a few decent fish out of the dam (we kept them in those days) and enjoying the fire and camp stew that night in the 125-year-old house that was perched in a glade of trees like a lookout above the Old Dam.

“They were both so vis-befok that managing them was like herding kittens.”

“Hugh Huntley and I, along with Roger Baert, then owned and ran The Fly Fisherman, South Africa’s first fly fishing-only retail shop. We happened to need a young man behind the counter at the time and it was a no-brainer to offer Mark the job (especially after watching him cast), which he accepted, and so he began his long and very successful career in retail fly fishing. He was later joined in The Fly Fisherman by another talented young man, Mike Harker, and the two of them made a great, if difficult to manage, team. In essence they were both so vis-befok that managing them was like herding kittens; on the flip side, they brought so much value to the business that, to be honest, we just had to overlook their growingly frequent relapses into bouts of fulminant fish fever.”

HIGHS & LOWS

In a retail career that spanned three decades and took him from Pietermaritzburg back to Johannesburg, exploring the Vaal, making a name for himself at Sterkfontein and taking him all over the world, Mark saw both the zenith of fly fishing in the 80s and early 90s and the nadir of the late 90s and noughties. Business partners, including Tom and Hugh, came and went. The Fly Fisherman grew, even more, adding another store in Johannesburg, one in Dullstroom, Cape Town and Richards Bay. Eventually, through the mismanagement of one of Mark’s former partners. Mark sold his shares and opened up a new fly shop called…The Fly Shop, with Andy Coetzee (co-author of Fishing Yourself Single) and Arno Laubscher of ScientificFly.

Eventually, when the global economy took a turn for the worst, after 22 years spent in fly fishing retail Mark sold The Fly Shop and quit retail for good. Fortunately for the hundreds of people he has guided and taught, Mark wasn’t done with fly fishing. There was no way he was ever going to work in any other game.

“When I was in the industry I always wanted to do some guiding. I’d met some high powered guys but for some reason, maybe because people felt I’d push products on them, guys were reluctant to let me guide them” Mark says. “When I got out of the shop, that’s what led to what I am doing now – guiding/teaching/fly bumming.”

FEVER

On the subject of fly bumming and shared addiction, Mark’s friend and former business partner Andy Coetzee tells of this one time at Bazaruto Island, they found themselves just out of casting distance of a school of bonito. Frothing, Mark jumped in a float tube and drifted off into the current to go get them, consequences be damned.

It wasn’t the first time Andy almost lost Mark. When Alphonse Island was first opened up, Andy and Mark were on the staff.

“We were told to go and check out St Francois Atoll,” says Andy. “It was September, with the howling south east monsoons pumping. We took a skiff, from Alphonse through Canal la Mort, which is Dead Man’s Channel, over to St Francois. The seas were mountainous but we went early and bumbled our way out. The wind wasn’t blowing too hard. We were fishing the flats, catching bonefish and just exploring as much as we could in one day. Mark just couldn’t get enough, clubbing bonefish after bonefish.

“He was in heaven, while I was starting to get nervous. We didn’t have radio, nobody knew where we were, it was past 3pm and I could not get him to go back. Like a heroin addict he wanted just one more fish and then just one more. Eventually I had to say, ‘I am going to either leave without you or break your rod,’ so he came with me, but under extreme duress. He was literally frothing at the mouth at the fishing. I can still see it in my head, looking at Mark with those huge seas in the background, this high big grin on his face literally surrounded by thousands and thousands of bonefish.”

BIRDS

Something else that puts a grin on his mug are birds. Mark is big into birding. Having recently returned from fishing with Jono Shales in Exmouth, mixed in with photos of queenfish and sailfish was an excited post about a pair of pink parrots that landed on the lawn. He might have even been more stoked about the parrots than the fish.

FISH PHOTOGRAPHY

Mark has a specific style in fish photos. He doesn’t look at the camera, but instead at the fish’s head. I’m not sure if there’s some kind of deep level of warrior respect going on there or mind control.

TECH

He claims to be a bit of a “techno-dinosaur” yet he does most of his business (guiding and casting clinics) on social media and has the shorthand down to a fine art – “gr8!”

MEMORIES

Loads of people tag him in throwback fishing posts, asking, “Do you remember this day Mark?” There are so many of them, I get the feeling that although Mark leaves positive comments about the memory, he’s seen so many days like this on the Vaal or in the salt, that surely he cannot remember them all. Perhaps that’s the sign of a good guide. Someone for whom good fishing is par for the course.

SPORTSBALL

Mark is a huge sports fan who wears his heart on his sleeve on Facebook. Some of my favourites include: 

“Lions you biscuits!”

“Moto 2/3 & GP make f1 look like the joke it is!

“Did you know that Brad Pitt has four brothers living in South Africa!? One is a farmer his name is Mielie Pitt, the other a mechanic Tapitt, pilot Cock Pitt and the fourth a Stormers supporter Stu Pitt!”

FLY TYING

For such a good fly fisherman, Mark rather surprisingly, hardly ties flies at all. That hasn’t stopped him from catching fish.

Mark says, “Most guys will tell you that I tie a Clouser Minnow and a red-eyed damsel and that’s my bundle. I was never the one with full fly boxes. I’m fortunate to fish with some great fly-tyers and I either buy or cadge from them. A lot of people say you can’t fish a world champs unless you’re a fly tyer. I’ll never forget fishing the Commonwealth in Scotland. It was my last year of competing. I was one of the senior citizens in the team and I went across to where the youngsters on our team were staying to watch them tie flies. I’m fascinated by flies.

“All fly tyers have a signature. I’m not that impressed with clinical flies but a fly that jumps out and says, “fish me”. The youngsters finished tying and picked up all their flies and there was a little wet fly lying on the table with pheasant tail, palmered hackle and an orange butt. I asked about it and was told it was a reject and that I could have it. I won the next session on that fly.”

COMPETITION

When it comes to competition fishing, Mark took part in in it for the better of a decade and won silver at the World Champs.

“Competitive angling is not everyone’s cup of coffee. A lot of people are critical about it because fly fishing is not supposed to be competitive, but the irony is that they are always happy to use the ideas from competition fishing. I fished competitively for 10 years and enjoyed it. It was predominantly Czech nymphing. That’s why now I fish mainly dry fly on the Vaal and from my boat.”

PATTERN VS PRESENTATION

When it comes to flies, Mark does not obsess over the latest patterns and materials. His take is that if you get the fly in the right place, you’re in the money.

“I believe guys go over the top studying the insects. The irony is that the yellows will eat most well-presented flies. Two of the top performing flies on the Vaal is the Elk Hair Caddis and the Adams, old patterns that outperform most others. Presentation outdoes the pattern for me easily. On the Vaal – you’ve literally got to throw it on to a soup plate.”

GEAR

For someone who worked in fly fishing retail for 22 years you’d imagine Mark would be a bit of a gearhead, but despite his history and his role as a Hardy ambassador, Mark is not too easily awed by the latest and greatest gear.  

“When the Vaal opened up in the late 80s early 90s, we were importing rods that were made in China, shipped to the USA then shipped to South Africa, which made the price totally unreasonable. So, with companies like Jandi and Stealth, we started importing rods direct from China. Quality, 4-piece graphite rods for under R1000. Too many people judge the quality of a fly rod by the price tag. You can have all the tackle you like, but if you don’t know how to use it, it’s no use to you.”

“Too many people judge the quality of a fly rod by the price tag. You can have all the tackle you like, but if you don’t know how to use it, it’s no use to you.”

Be that as it may, good gear definitely makes a difference. Dean Riphagen, one of the owners of Johannesburg store Frontier Fly Fishing saw Mark almost come a cropper on a trip to South America.

“We went on a three week trip to Argentina and started off fishing a spring creek called the Orrojo Pescada. We had two days on the creek and were then headed for the Rio Rivadavia. Mark arrived with a pair of wading boots which had seen better days. The felt sole on the one boot was hanging half off the boot and the felt on the other boot was peeling away. On the first day on the Orrojo Pescada the felt sole on the worse boot fell off completely. That wasn’t great but the going was easy and although Mark was wading with one boot which had plastic against the ground, it was okay.

“Then on the first day on the Rio Rivadavia (a freestone stream) the other sole fell off the second boot. So for the rest of the trip Mark was doing a Torvill and Dean (no pun intended) on all the freestone streams we subsequently fished – skating all over the rocks due to a lack of traction.”

FISHINESS

Mark consistently catches fish when others don’t. He’s one of those guys. Pinpoint casting helps, but there’s something else to it, a sort of instinctive understanding of what it will take to get an eat.

One of his oldest friends Dennis de Klerk says, “In the late ’80’s I visited The Fly Fisherman in Pietermaritzburg to buy a kick boat. The young tall blond, (with lots of hair) very friendly and helpful guy who helped me was none other than Mark Yelland. I had just started the Maluti Fly Fishing Club. To promote the club and widen our knowledge I invited him up to Sterkies, which we had been fishing for a few years. Needless to say our nine members managed three fish together and Mark caught 13. It was an eye opener to say the least. His ability to see fish and his accurate casting on Sterkies makes him the absolute fundi here, often taking multiple largies.”

This ability applies in the salt too. Andy Coetzee says, “At The Fly Shop we were taking trips out to St Joseph. When Mark came back from one of the trips, we asked him if he got any permit. It turns out he had caught plenty…on a chartreuse Clouser. While everyone was obsessing over and persisting with merkins and other crab patterns, Mark got so frustrated he changed to the closer and clubbed the permit. They wouldn’t leave that thing alone. That’s what Mark’s ability is. He’s got an intuitive sense of fish behaviour. He knows what fish are going to be interested in. There’s something in his makeup, his DNA, that allows him to read the water and almost always get a pull.”

NATURAL ABILITY

Everyone thinks they look good when casting, but only a few people truly do. Mark may look more like a rugby player than he does an artist, but to hear anyone talk about him cast and you realise there’s something special about it.

Tom Sutcliffe saw this early on.

He says, “I have fished with Mark on and off, on stillwaters, rivers and streams, for years now; well anyway long enough to gauge his abilities with a fly rod and his sense about fish. He is good to watch, which some fly fishers, no matter how good they are, are not, though it’s not something I can easily find words for. I guess with Mark his most important attributes as a fly fisher are his ability to read both the water and the fish and his casting skills, especially in closely confined spaces, like tightly bushed streams.

“What pisses me off about it all is how easily fly fishing unfolds for him.”

“The really noticeable thing about his casting is it is so unlaboured, so smooth, and so accurate, that it reminds me a lot of a well-oiled sniper’s rifle. But what pisses me off about it all is how easily fly fishing unfolds for him, as if he were just born to it, as if it was all as natural as breathing in and out. When you see that in an angler, take notice!”

Gifted angler, sublime caster, lover of birds, fish and the Lions rugby team. If a man is the sum of his memories plus his actions, Mark’s been blessed. If you happen to see him out there on the Vaal or at Sterkies, perhaps in a float tube off Mozambique or dancing across slippery South American river rocks, executing effortless pin-point casts, be sure to greet him with, “Mark, you biscuit!”

Then open up your fly box and watch him catch all the fish.

Read the rest of The Mission Issue 12 for free, below.