Back in 2019, my last shot was at a massive GT. I had an enthusiastic follow, but the fish saw us at the last second and pulled away.
This trip I was fishing with Ari and we were approaching a long cut that led out to the lagoon, where the boat was waiting for us. As we approached the cut Ari called out a fish on a flat just in front of the cut.
It was a GT.
It was maybe 25-35 pounds.
I had the fly I wanted to throw and I made the cast. I was a little too close to the fish, nearly on its head (back handed cast into the wind), but the fish didn’t spook and it started to follow.
Last flat. Last fish. And it is a GT.
Then, the fish saw us and pulled off.
That’s two trips with two last casts, to two GTs who both saw us last second and didn’t eat.
This was my second (and not last) trip to Xmas following my trip there in 2019. So, what changed? What was different?
The airport got a major upgrade. There’s now a legit waiting area with enough seating. So, good job to whatever government(s) got that sorted.
Things that were totally the same:
– The boats – The trucks – GTs being hard – Wind, all the time – Periods of clouds and periods of sun – Long days full of fishing – Mostly, the guides – The beauty of the place – The quality of the roads – The quality of the fishing
Things that were different:
Fished a different lodge. In 2019 I was at The Villages and this time I was at Christmas Island Lodge (which wasn’t even there in 2019 and has taken over the site of the Captain Cook). CIL has more of a truck-based program, although their second boat was being repaired, so that might not always be true. Trips to the backcountry and Huff Dam by truck were new.
Triggers were… jerks. In 2019, I had maybe 10 trigger shots and landed 2. It did NOT go that way this year. Had maybe 40 shots at adults and went 0/40. Got one little peachface, but that was it. I had three eats, zero conversions. I don’t know why it was so much harder, but it was.
My bonefishing sucked less. In 2019 I had a day where I started off going about 0/25 on bonefish shots. This year, I feel like I was more on it. I caught more fish on my own, and I had some magical/awesome sessions where I was just dialed. It isn’t that I improved so much in the last 5 years, it just went better this trip. I ended up landing 40 bonefish to 6 pounds. I maybe had half that number in 2019.
A female touch. CIL had a female guide and I think also another female guide in training. Ari, the woman guide, was fantastic. I thought she was maybe the best guide I had. She communicated clearly and often. She asked questions about what I wanted and she had a plan. 5 Star Guide and if you go to CIL, request her.
The beer was better. Flame beer, from NZ, was an upgrade from whatever we had in 2019 and we drank great quantities of the stuff. A nice, light, clean beer, best when cold and after a long day of fishing.
Hosted v. non-hosted. In 2019 I went on a hosted trip with my friend Shane. He saw to all the details. In 2025 we didn’t have a host, but Ty, the manager of CIL, sort of filled that role (in addition to everything else he did). This proved not to really feel like a big change, but was different. Shane was there at the same time, at the Villages, but his trip filled up before we could get in.
Tides. This was not a thing I paid a lot of attention to, but our tides were less than ideal. We had lows througout most of the fishing hours and that really impacted what the Korean Wreck looked like (barren). We were out there for about 20 minutes of the incoming tide and it was shaping up to be MAGIC, but then we had to leave. Boo. They say the best time to go fishing is when you can, and this fell into that sort of category. This was the week I had available and I was going to go no matter what.
More species. Did you know there are Queenfish in Xmas? I didn’t, but I caught one. Also got a sweetlips and wasn’t the only one to catch either of those species. Caught a goatfish as well, which I don’t recall catching before.
I pretty much only want to fish Christmas Island at this point. This is such a special place. I’ll be back.
In my opinion, one of the best guides currently working on Christmas Island is Ari (and not just because she complimented my casting).
Ari with Wallace, walking off the last flat of the trip.
In a place that is fairly male-dominated, Ari is a female guide working out of Christmas Island Lodge.
I had her for 1.5 days and very much enjoyed having her. She not only saw the fish and knew where they’d be, which probably all the Xmas guides can do, but she communicated well. She asked questions. She gave feedback.
The first day I had her as my guide, Phil had told her that I likely needed some sort of therapy due to my blown shot at a big GT earlier in the week. So, she set out a path for the two of us to walk that would give me multiple cuts and points to go in search of trevally. She developed a plan, quickly, that would maybe do the trick, or at the very least it would set me up to be in a good position.
In one cut we found some working bluefin and I managed to get one to hand. When I gave her the phone to take the pic, she’s the one who put it on portrait mode and took the shot below… which is rad.
The next day, I was with Ari as we were fishing the last water we’d fish… and what did we find? A GT on the edge of a channel. It was a 20-25 pound fish, or there abouts. Not huge, but a very nice fish for sure. I managed to get a good cast in and got a follow, but the fish saw us in the last 15 feet and waived off (which is how my previous trip had ended as well… but… that’s for another time).
Ari consistantly put me in a good position to get the shots I was looking for and she checked in with me to make sure we were on the same page.
Our Korean Wreck day was, well, different than I envisioned.
First off, the ride was longer. We just went further than I had ever been… than anyone in the group had ever been. We passed turnoff after turnoff after turnoff and ended up driving for 2:30 before Phil and I started fishing. Each turnoff my blood pressure went up just ever so slightly. I’m not patient when it comes to getting on the water and this was not a good stress test of that character flaw.
When we DID get off the truck and to the water… well… there wasn’t much water. The tide was going out, almost out, and there wasn’t a lot of swimmable water up on the flats available for the fish.
I did go out and promptly stick a Christmas Island Wrasse, because they are awesome.
After that, I went off to try to pop some trevalley in the cuts. I got one grab from a bluefin, but it didn’t stay on. Beyond that, it was pretty grim there in the morning.
We moved, which meant more truck time (yay) and we dipped into the beers before 10:30.
After lunch, when I was maybe a bit grumpy, we had a kind of crazy experience.
We head back out onto a waterless flat but the guide says to follow him. He takes us to a little cut in the reef and there, in the water that is a couple hours from reaching the flat itself, are about 200 bonefish.
I don’t know why I don’ thave a picture of this, but I don’t.
The fish were there, sort of milling around, moving as the surges from waves teased in and out.
The Would. Not. Go. Away.
We started casting into the school, both of us, and after about 20 casts or so, we started hooking up.
Phil and I figure we caught maybe 24 bones out of this little bucked in a couple hours. Phil had maybe 14, I had maybe 10, including a couple very solid, nice fish, maybe to 6 pounds.
It was very much like shooting fish in a barrel. You could cast right in the middle of the fish and they wouldn’t spook. They wouldn’t eat on most casts either, but they wouldn’t run off into deeper water. They just swayed there, in the surf, and let us catch a whole bunch of them.
There were bigger fish just at the back too. These fish were maybe 8-9-10 pound fish… big bonefish. But a cast their way and they’d slide into the deeper water until you’d given up on the pursuit.
When I’d catch one of the bonefish in the school I’d put the stick to it. I had my drag cranked down and was using 20 lb tippet. There was coral everywhere, so the risk of cutting the fish off was very high, and it is probably better to have the freaking out fish out of the school. I managed to do this pretty well, only losing two fish to cut tippet.
It was a really, really crazy couple of hours and changed the Wreck day from one nearly devoid of fish (along with the water) to one of the most productive days of the trip.
Local knowledge… the guide knew that spot was there and that those fish would behave in that way.
Sometimes, you are sitting there, shooting the breeze after a long day of fishing and a crab walks into your circle, your arena, if you will. This is a perfect time to play “Crab Reactions,” a new sport invented at Christmas Island Lodge by legends of the game, Bjorn, James and Wallace.
Rules:
Any crab within 30-40 feet may be considered part of the game.
Any player may pick up a naturally occuring piece of rock, shell or coral and toss it in the crab’s direction.
IF the crab reacts to this toss, the thrower is awarded a point.
IF the crab was already moving when the toss was made, this is not a valid point.
Any throw that HITS the crab results in the loss of all points (the point is not to hit the crab).
The game lasts until the crab is no longer available or has gone too far away to be a viable target.
Crabs may be naturally occurring or may be caught and moved to the arena (thanks Wayne).
We are in talked to have this new sport streamed live and you should be able to place bets on our new site, DraftCrabs.com.
The world has been crying out for just such a distraction.
We were out at the Huff Dam area. It is an interesting place with lots of long shelves (with lots of Snapper) and Phil, the guide and I were walking back to the truck to head home.
To get out to the Huff Dam area you have to get a permit and then you drive past alllll sorts of birds. So, I have some bird pictures.
I had just been prospecting for GTs and had hooked one, briefly, on a popper. I don’t know how big that fish was, but it was a big popper and it pulled hard for the 5 seconds I had it on. I had also caught a small GT and small Bluefin, in addition to some excellent bonefish action and several, several blown trigger shots.
I figured I might as well at least have a look over the ledge as we were walking back. This one was particularly straight, as I recall.
There, about 150 feet ahead, just holding, was a laid up GT. It was a big one, maybe 60 pounds. It wasn’t really moving much, just hanging out. The guide later said they sometimes do that, waiting for some little snapper to wander out and not pay attention, becoming part of the circle of life and death on the flats.
There was a thought the GT might have been looking slightly away and so I wanted to get ahead of it. I started running on the elevated stone shelf. Well, with my first running step the fish blew out. It had heard me through the ground (I am not a small, light guy). So, we all learned a thing right there. They can feel the vibrations and know what is up if you aren’t careful.
Luckily the fish only spooked about 20 feet and then started slowing coming my way.
I got down in the water (you can’t really cast well on those shelves, as there are all sorts of little grabby bumps and the edge can be pretty sharp) and I started pulling off line. I had a window of time to get things set up.
I was still using the popper and I threw it out in front of the fish. Pop, pop, pop and it appeared to look at it, but it didn’t get excited about it. Another cast, pulling the popper in front of the fish and it… just… didn’t seem to care.
And then it went away.
Later, Ari would tell me that she likes poppers for prospecting, but if you have a fish in front of you, she likes a baitfish pattern. So, keep that in mind.
I’ll be thinking about that fish for a long, long time. It was the shot of a lifetime.
I was on a big flat, might have been Paris Flat, but I’m not totally sure.
Phil was with the guide and I had peeled away, walking on the very edge of the flat where the tide was pouring off into the deeper water. The wind was also in this same direction, from my left to my right, also heading off the flat.
The wind was sustantial, as it usually is, but coming off my right shoulder is something I’ve heard called a “caster’s wind,” and so it is.
There are days I just don’t see the fish, for whatever reason. In fact, on this day, earlier and with the guide, I was having trouble seeing the fish with the sun right overhead. This now was a couple of hours later in the day and the sun had slid a little lower in the sky and that seemed to make all the difference.
I could see the fish moving toward me along the edge of the flat and I could see some fish also moving off the flat as it lost its water, heading toward deeper water.
The casts weren’t long, but I had several and in an hour I managed six very nice bonefish, including one that was about 6 pounds. It was a very concentrated session of spotted fish and quality shots. Outside of my “shooting fish in a barrel” session I had later in the week at the Wreck, this one one of the finest hours of bonefishing I’ve maybe ever had.
As they were hooked, they’d race off the flat into the deeper water, which seemed an iffy proposition. At one point a GT of about 30 pounds was tracing the edge of the flat, coming toward me. I didn’t have my backback, so didn’t have my second rod, so was unarmed for the encounter. Later, as I was being summoned to give up my bonefish pursuit to head back to the boat, there was GT chaoas at the point of the flat I was still a couple hundred feet away from.
Another surprise was looking over to see a massive manta ray mere feet from me, gliding over the deeper water.
To get to this flat we actually drove. Normally, you’d reach this flat by boat, but we actually drove to Huff Dam and some of us split off and hit the more traditional flats in the AM. Later, I’d have an epic GT shot, of which I’ll write more of later.
OK… don’t bring the 12 weight. You hate casting that thing. Just double up on the 10’s and leave the 12 at home. Maybe consider burning it.
And, you don’t need a 10 for triggers. You can do triggers with an 8. If you break an 8, like you did on this trip, it means you are either borrowing a rod (thanks Phil), or you just give up on triggers.
Having the spinning rod along for the lodge water was fine, but didn’t do anything. So, maybe save the weight.
We did have an angler lose half a fly line at the Wreck on a GT, so, ya know… having that backup 10 line/reel makes good sense.
The beefy Simms boots are a good call and you should keep going that route.
Socks with a liner, is all ya need.
The sling pack gets HEAVY is you insist on bringing all yer crap out there. The right shoulder starts to get a bit achey. The backpack is a bit harder to get stuff in and out of, but it is balanced on your shoulders and that rod holder was super clutch. For the times I was out on my own, I really enjoyed having the second rod there and available instead of with the guide, somewhere else.
I used a “Day’s worth” box for a selection to put in a pocket, just need something similar to put a few GT flies in so I can reduce times I’m in and out of the backpack.
Flies… the guides liked the smaller brass barbell eyes. The simple flies were the winners, some with just flash on the wing. I did get one vervenka shrimp to work, but, ya know… that was when I was casting into a pod of 200 fish that wouldn’t eff off, so, maybe not the best test.
The guides really wanted black/purple for the GT flies, but the pattern that kind of worked with more mullet-like. So, maybe tie some black and purple, but tie som more of those mullet-esque flies as well.
Figure out why your popper kept twisting your fly line, cuz… that was annoying. Maybe this could help.
There is a trend for tights with shorts. Don’t like it. The hotest I felt was the one day I wore tights. So, won’t be doing that again.
No one got the tummy troubles. So, huzzah.
There was laundry, so, could have reduced clothes brought by half.
Need to take more pictures, summarize the days a bit, so I don’t forget the cool stuff that happens.
The low-light glasses worked, but they looked like maybe I had just recieved a pardon for storming the Capitol.
I don’t have a solution for my fingertips getting sunburned. Need to figure that out.
I was fishing with Ari out of Christmas Island Lodge. Ari is a female guide working in a very male-dominated industry/culture and I think she was maybe the best guide I fished with on the Island.
She communicated, had a plan, asked questions and she could spot fish.
She had been told I needed therapy after missing a good shot at a 60 pound GT and that wasn’t totally wrong. She had some spots for us to check out.
She brought us to a cut/channel that was about 80 feet wide with a good firm bottom on one side and a steeper bank on the far side. I put some prospecting casts in and got a follow from… who knows what, but that was promising. Soon thereafter there was an explosion of water and bait on the far side. I moved up and made the cast.
Now, my casting has come a long way from when I first started saltwater fly fishing and a backhanded cast with a 10 weight is something I can actually hit 80 feet with. One strip and a fish exploded on the fly as another fish exploded a few feet in front of it. That strike didn’t stick, but one more strip and another explosion resulted in a hard tug and I was connected.
I don’t set my drag lightly and I put the stick to the fish, holding him in the channel and reducing the chances he’d get me hung up on some coral or cut me on the edge of the channel.
I really love trevally fishing. The visual and violent nature of the take is just thrilling. The power of the fish is so impressive. This wasn’t a GT and it wasn’t huge, but it was a decent fish… beautiful in its colors, luminescent with its lit up spots. Love these fish.
And that’s how I ended up with this fish, caught in the backcountry of Christmas Island with Ari.
