Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Last Chance.

Over a few beers late one night, my brother and I hatched a plan to hit up a local flat early the next morning. The goal was to catch a bonefish and exact revenge on the hundred or so fish that wanted nothing to do with every pattern I had, the last and only other time, I fished there. It would be my last chance to fish a flat for a bonefish on our annual summer sojourn. 

The next morning, I awoke in a pool of my own sweat with a fresh round of mosquito bites, I realized that I had slept through our alarm. Our early morning plan was looking more like a mid-afternoon siesta. It didn't really matter. We had been operating on island time for two weeks, being late was part of the game. We loaded up the SUV with a kayak, checked that she was held down nice and tight and hit the road. Our destination was only ten miles away, yet it would take us forty five minutes to get there. Parking, we unloaded the kayak, geared up, and hit the ocean for a forty five minute paddle across deep seas. 

Getting on the Flat.

About to Go For a Swim.

Beaching the kayaks on the only strip of sand in the immediate vicinity, my brother and I waded across a deeper channel to get up onto the large flat. My brother headed left, and I went right, splitting the flat in half. No more than ten minutes after I took my first step, I spotted a pod of slow moving bones about fifty deep. Their grayish backs unmistakable against the bed of sea grass. I stripped off the necessary amount of line, took two false casts and shot the rest of my line out and into the middle of the pack. One strip was all it took to ignite the competitive spirit amongst the bones and soon I was latched on to a decent fish. The street gang followed the hooked bonefish around before realizing something was wrong and bolting off the flat. This left my fish with one decent run before gently being cradled for a victory shot.


Spotted Eagle Ray.

Brown Booby.

My Last Bone of the Trip.

Size 8 Kwabbit For the Win.


The hook and landing of the first bone of the day, spooked that days group of bonefish. After the first hour, there were sporadic sightings of single and paired bones across the flat, none of them interested in our flies. I turned my attention to permit. On ten separate occasions, I spotted tail around the edge of the flat along the     coral. On half of those occasions, I was able to get a cast off. Each and every time the perms spooked and blasted off the flat. Permit are so smart, fast, and powerful. They are awe inspiring. Even though I was able to catch my first one, I was still trembling at the knees. The sight of their tail breaking the surface of the water and shaking side to side, is an image you will never forget. It will haunt you in your dreams at night, beckoning you in for another go around. Just thinking about it, makes me want to book a flight and settle the score. 

Class is in Session.

I Want To Go Back.

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