The setting was beautiful. A lone rock far from anything else out on the ocean-side flats of Long Island. The wind was non-existent. To top it all off, there was a school of bonefish that would not be discouraged. The damn things just hung around.
I finally made my way over to cast to the school (maybe 400-600 fish) and quickly hooked up and just as quickly lost it. Lost a couple more before I finally managed to get one that didn’t slip off. The forces keeping the bonefish schooled up happened to be sharks and cudas. My little bone didn’t make it. It was eaten by a cuda, despite my trying to give it line and give it a chance.
About this time another boat motored up. It was odd to have another boat come all this way out there when they had to be able to see us there from more than a mile away. The boat pulled up 200 feet away and the lone angler and his guide set up shop.
As they eyed the school I was fishing to I managed to get another bonefish on the line. This one I pulled out of the school quickly and the sharks and cudas didn’t see it. I landed the fish, the smallest bonefish of the trip, maybe a pound, and I managed to not get my hand taken off, which felt like victory.
Seeing me otherwise occupied with landing the fish, and making a sarcastic comment about the fish’s lack of girth, the boat moved in on the school.
Yup… they came in and poached my school. They moved right in on the fish and pushed them beyond me.
I just had to stand and stare in amazement. The total lack of class was stunning.
So, let’s just all agree not to do this, OK? Let’s not do it ourselves and let’s not let a guide we are paying do it. Just don’t.
Good. I’m glad we had this talk.