I’m primarily a trout and stream guy who has only dabbled in the salt. But things have come together such that it was time to see what this flats fishing thing was about. Like any well read angler I guess I already knew; sight fishing for skittish silvery missiles requires a patient guide, accurate casting and some of that fine looking technical clothing that one sees in the shops.
Following the path my old fishing partner Jim had modeled, I searched for a top lodge at a prime location with a reputation for successful trips. From the very first steps on Bahamian coral it seemed that the basics were in place.
Since returning I’ve told people that if you showed up at this place with a pair of dress pants, a shirt and few Clousers tucked into a luggage pocket, they will have you out on the flats the next morning casting a well balanced 8wt and a box of the right sized Crazy Charlies. My preparations were a bit better than that and compared favorably with the other 6 rods at the camp, a mixed crew of midwestern fishing buddies with a range fishing experience.
I had my favorite traveling buddy along but was fishing solo. My wife found the accommodations exactly as I had described them and all was good with the world.
In the morning at the departure dock I happily discovered I was going out 1:1 with a decidedly non-crazy Charlie, while everyone else was paired up with a buddy. I looked forward to a first day on the flats without distraction, inhibition or potential for embarrassment. The day looked perfect with light winds and only a few clouds providing relief from the sun. I thought I spotted some tailing fish 5 minutes out from the dock but Charlie was headed somewhere that was 30-40 minutes distant. My brain thoroughly enjoyed the soak in the turquoise.
The novice’s moment of dread must be the first casts. I thought I could feel Charlie back there taking stock of what he had drawn, but we quickly found the same frequencies as I sorted out the rig, the boat and the water. This was starting to look and feel real good as we start searching for fish.
Andros is wall to wall flats in all directions. I already realized that no other people would be seen until we returned. Charlie tried 3 spots in quick succession until we started to see Bones. They looked small and turned out to be willing. After a few misses and trout sets, I got my first on and to the boat. They are as hot as I hoped and turn out to be slimy beyond belief. Skunk off, we move on.
Stepping though the basics of flats fishing, we steadily find and catch smallish Bones with a few nice medium size fish thrown in. I guess that I’m bubbling with first timer excitement as I call every Barracuda, Shark and dead sponge I can find. Charlie calls out singles up in the Mangroves, schools moving up from the blue and flights of 2 or 3 as they turn towards the boat momentarily giving up their transparent stealth. I miss most of them most of the time but quickly learn to stay after them. “They are hungry today, they want your fly”, and they do! Even spooked fish will turn if I get a fly back in the water near them. They’re competing for it, they’re eating it, they’ll eat it twice if needed.
By mid-afternoon I realize that I’ve lost count and I’m smiling as brightly as the day. We end the day firing at some slightly larger singles, covering a lot water downwind and down-sun. Perfect setups that happy exhaustion compromises. I’m knee wobbly and sun stupid but unwilling to call it quits until Charlie does.
Remaining on the same frequency, we motor back silently. Five minutes from the dock we run into the other boats. I’m smiling and it seems that everyone else is too.
Now I’m a smiling guy when I’m a happy guy and am always amazed how smiles reflect back. The summary for my day is, “I lost count” but soon realize it’s been a mixed bag for the others. When the lodge staff acknowledges my smile with, “it’s not always like that” I decide to tone it down slowly realizing that I probably had the best day of the group. Going into a lightly sun stroked stupor, the smile remains as I pass out on my feet. At the camp my wife is over the moon collecting both shells and people as only she can. She accepts the stupid grin as mission accomplished, we eat and I’m asleep before 9:00.
Buddy Jim gets a text update at 4:00am, “lots of fish, smallish but willing. Not as hard as imagined, they are aggressive and always moving. Spooky but not shy. Too much fun!”
The next day the guides and rods are reshuffled. I’m happy to again be a single with a new guide. We head out and stop 5 minutes later to work a couple of tailing fish. No joy with the fish but it’s definitely more comfortable out with mixed clouds and sun. However the wind has picked up significantly and will require more from this mediocre caster.
We make a quick turn before going very far and work a shallow bay. Some adjustments are made to facilitate short, faster casts, or perhaps we just aren’t tuned in yet. Many fewer fish are seen this day, especially when the clouds turn the lights off.
The day before I had been amazed at how every single fish was hooked exactly the same way in the same corner of the Bones’ mouths. On this day I snagged and blinded the first fish. The second swallowed it. The third was snagged under the chin and that took us through lunch.
We never moved from this single bay and I realized that the marks I kept seeing on the bottom were poling marks. The fish were not only small but wholly and consistently so. It was fun catching the 5 we did but it was a completely different experience. Upon return I hinted strongly that I wanted Charlie again.
Charlie likes the remote frontier to the south and west and there we went again. The day fit perfectly in between day 1 and 2 in terms of cloud and wind. My wife joined us requiring little adjustment to our shared frequencies. A fine and perfect day developed but with fewer fish all around. There were no giant Barracuda, Sharks, flying Needlefish or speeding turtles seen, but there were steady sightings of larger Bones, a few truly big Bones, and definitely more wary Bones.
The hunt was on. My casting had improved a bit and we were tuned in even more tightly. However spooked fish stayed spooked. Large fish kept their distance and maintained it with purpose. One fish chased it, stopped, turned 90 degrees and gave it the finger. I regrouped, led him properly and presented again while receiving the other fin. “They don’t like your flies today”. Indeed.
However it was the best day of the 3. Only two fish caught with maybe 5 other hookups. Earlier I had tried to take a few pictures of fish for my iPhone log (there’s an app for that!) but discovered that Bonefish slime completely disables touch operations. Today the wife took dozens of stills but hit the lottery having decided to video one of my casts that resulted in one of the two fish of the day.
Returning to the dock I was grinning almost as broadly as day 1. It was a mixed performance that fit well with the rest of the boats. My better calibrated smile was reflected knowingly by the staff. The day 1 smile was that of a very lucky flats novice.