Air travel once was glamorous. Not any more. Between watching TSA make a blind 10 year old girl take off her shoes, my red-eye neighbor hogging all the leg room and an aborted take-off on American Eagle, I think it is safe to say that it certainly is not about the journey any longer, it’s about the destination.
Fifteen hours from when I left the house I was standing on a flat in Grand Bahama. The tide was rising, the water temp was 72 and there were patchy clouds in the sky. It was 2:30. I soon spooked my first bones.
I was happy I was able to start seeing the bonefish much earlier than my previous trip. However, they wanted nothing to do with me. I probably cast to 30 bones, but no takers. Spooked a few, others never saw the fly.
In the end, the light was failing and I just couldn’t find the fish again. I left, after 2 hours, fishless.
I decided to stop off at a spot that my dad and I had fished back in Dec. 2008. It’s a big, white sand flat. There’s a boat launch there and I figured that if it came down to it, I could probably catch something (anything!) throwing clousers from the launch. I decided to walk the flat before throwing the big clousers. Low light conditions, from what I’ve read, can mean tailers and that would really be the only way I was going to find fish as the sun sank lower in the western sky.
Behind me, about 50 feet away, I heard something. I spun around to see a tail. I made the cast. I took up the slack, felt the fish and somehow managed not to trout set. I had the fish. The fish was on and a couple seconds later I was looking at my backing. That was exactly what I needed. This bone is the first I have caught on a fly I tied, making it extra special.
Notice how my finger is reflected on the gill plate of the fish in the underwater shot? That’s what makes these fish so hard to see.
Sure is pretty here. The weather is improving and I’m out with Captain Perry tomorrow, all day. Can’t wait.