Fishing On A Small Lake Poem by Gert Strydom

You had just left me
and I had relocated from Bellville
near Cape Town
to Centurion at Pretoria
and had travelled by airplane
and there was storm damage
to the roads
and I was still waiting
on my removal to arrive

and apart from going to work
I had a lot of time on my hands
and thoughts in my mind,
since I have lost
the only fish that really mattered
and I didn’t really know how.

My rods and reels and fishing tackle
from when I was a boy
was at my mother’s
where I now lived,
and the lake on the other side
of Centurion mall
caught my eye,
while I drove
over the bridge.

On the weekend
loneliness really caught up with me
and my mother
helped me prepare the bait
like she did
when I was a child.

It was nothing fancy,
just custard powder, baking meal
and honey
or baking meal and curry
or a fresh white bread and honey
that I used that summer.

At the lake some black kids
were selling tins with earthworms
to anglers,
but I wasn’t interested
as catfish goes for earthworms as well
and I wanted to catch blue kurper
or carp or maybe yellow-fish.

It was at about eleven o’clock
and some of the other anglers
had already being fishing
since six
and didn’t have luck,
but assured me
that the lake had
big kurper, carp and catfish.

They were very well equipped
with radio controlled bait boats
to take their lines in
and all kinds of modern gizmos.

I settled under a tree
next to the small red hanging bridge
with which visitors crossed the lake
and used two rods
and equipped two hooks on each line.

alternating between the custard
and the curry baits
and thought that I would have
some time to reflect on live,
but I didn’t even get time to wait.

Almost as soon as the sinker
struck the water
I had a bite,
and were catching two fish
at a time.

The biggest kurpers
that I have ever caught
were filling the keep net,
along with some rather large carp.

I came for solitude
and got everything but it
and was too busy
enjoying the experience
to notice
the three or four families
with children
who gathered on the bridge
to watch me.

Some of the other anglers
came over for a chat,
all of them believing
that I was using
some special secret
kind of bait.

I had brought more than enough bait
and gave them some
and that day all of them caught fish
and a little while later
to my astonishment
one even caught a huge catfish.

It wasn’t long before
I had friends right round that lake,
anglers brought me cider,
beer and whiskey,

and an angler
and his beautiful daughter
moved their lines
to right next to mine
and they roasted
chops and sausage
on a Cadac gas frying pan

and I got chops, sausage
and putu porridge
and many more bites
than I had bargained for.