Soon after I had my religious bonefish experience in Hawaii I started looking for shirts with bonefish. I didn’t find much off the bat. My t-shirts fall into roughly two categories… short sleeved fish-themed shirts and longed sleeved fish-themed t-shirts.
Then… I found Skinny Water Culture.
This is some good looking art… that’s right… I said it… “art.” That bonefish is beautiful and primal and, well, everything I wanted in a fish-themed shirt.
Now, I just managed to give away a pair of Costa Del Mar sunglasses and that was pretty cool… so, I asked the guys at Skinny Water Culture and they said “sure, we’d love to give away some SWC gear.”
So, there… I’m going to give away something (actually, anything they have in stock in whatever size you might be).
So… here’s what I’m thinking. I’d love to hear about your about your first bonefish. You can put comments here or you can put a comment on the page created for this purpose.
For the record, I own two Skinny Water Culture shirts. Both I paid full retail for. See, I’m giving you a free shirt and I’m paying for them. I try to do well by all you folks that honor me by actually reading what I write.
- If you liked the story above, check out these stories below
- Skinny Water Culture — Chase Hancock "Bonefish Ghost" Shirt (0.950)
- Fishartist does bonefish (0.601)
- Things (0.601)
Tags: Art, bonefishing, flyfishing, Skinny Water Culture
They have good stuff! And Of course, they’re local to me….
It’s choice stuff.
Early April 2004 was my first trip to Exuma. My wife and I were expecting out first child in August of that year and we were invited to spend about a week with her parents and cousins on the island. I kept hearing about what a special place Exuma was from her parents; days spent walking along the beach and lounging in the sun for the women and hours and hours of bonefishing for the boys.
I had heard bourbon addled tales of bonefish from my father-in-law for a while and was a bit skeptical as to the veracity of the stories. Most of the stories started off with “these are some of the craziest damn fish I know of…” and “It’s really hard to explain but take everything you know about trout fishing and forget about it.” I soon had first hand knowledge of what he was telling me.
I remember spending the first days of fishing with my father-in-law John and wife’s cousin Stephen on Rolletown flats getting my “eyes” in shape and practicing casting. I couldn’t figure out what the hell theses guys were seeing in the water. All I heard was “Here they come” and “You see ’em? Out there, about 80 feet; headed straight at us.” I thought they were just screwing with me until there was a gigantic explosion from a school of spooked bonefish about 10 feet away.
As the days went on I got the hang of spotting fish and seeing the “nervous water” but became more frustrated with my casting ability, tired of watching fish after fish disregard my fly and returning from the flat with little more than a sunburn and a sore right shoulder. It was during this time I was given the moniker “Sheppard of the Flat.” All I was doing was herding bonefish from one end of the flat to the other.
On the last day of fishing we headed out to the flat in the morning before flying back to Miami that afternoon. I was trying not to get disappointed as the first 2 hours went by without any luck and watching my father-in-law laugh while his reel screamed in bursts and a tight line was drawn across the flat from his line and backing.
I was focused on my pursuit. I saw a school headed toward me, cast out ahead of them, lightly stripped the fly and watched the lead fish and his buddies cruise right on by. I thought that was it until I felt a tug and happened set the hook on my first bonefish. I finally got to watch and hear the line disappear from the reel from one severely frightened bonefish.
I had done it! Finally, after days coming up empty handed I had my first bonefish on the line. As the rod curved against the Bahaman sky and what looked like 250 feet of line stretched across Rolletown flat, I felt like I was in God’s pocket. That is, until the explosion. Approximately 250 feet away from me water erupted from the flat, the rod straightened out and that was that. I retrieved the line only to pull in a bare leader without any sign of bonefish anywhere.
I left for the airport a little disappointed and incredibly addicted to bonefishing. It took three more trips to Exuma until I was able to put it all together and land my first bonefish but this was the one that started me on my myopic pursuit.
THAT is what I’m talking about! Excellent. Thanks for sharing.