Rhodes AN ICONIC TOWN AND HOME TO fly fishing legend: Fred Steynberg

Like the prodigal son, we return to Rhodes to meet up with old friends and revisit rivers filled with memories and wild rainbows.

- Fred Steynberg

The long and winding dirt road between Barkly East and the quaint village of Rhodes brings back sweet memories. As bumpy as ever but in reasonably good nick, its rough 60km meanders through some of the most beautiful scenery you can hope to find just about anywhere. At the end of it lies peace, tranquility and access to some of the finest trout rivers in our country, so we relax and enjoy the drive. It’s been a while and memories come flooding back, but we are pleased to find that not much has changed – at least not where it matters.

We coast to a stop in front of Fred Steynberg’s house and, as I lift my hand to ring the bell, he comes around the corner with a big grin on his face. He looks much the same, the years having treated him kindly and apart from a wrinkle or two, it’s the same Fred that sat next to me on the aircraft to New Zealand more than 20 years ago. Many subsequent trips to Rhodes and elsewhere with him come to mind, but it is here, in front of his house in Rhodes, that he most looks like where he belongs. I can hardly imagine Rhodes without him or his wife Jill, who, as pretty as ever, also seems unaffected by age. We greet and exchange pleasantries, older and wiser.