Day three of fishing broke calmer. After breakfast we wiped our 9wt lines with an armour-all rag I brought to keep them smooth from the sticky salt. I was with Bailey and Filipe today while Ryan and Tuck were off with Reuben.
The calm day allowed us to fish off the front and the magical blue Caribbean. Protected by the Mesoamerican reef, the near shore flats host lots of permit. The mornings shots were mostly surprising as a fish appeared from a dark to a light bottom. Bailey, new to fly casting but a college baseball player, was struggling with his double haul and quick shots. I had a couple follows when I was up. We decided to retreat to the bay for lunch, and maybe fish for bonefish. Along the white sand of the inner bay, we spotted a huge pile of a couple hundred bonefish and anchored the boat to pester them for lunch.
Getting out and wading is a great way to get closer to fish. These shallow water fish are keyed into threats from above, but in the water, you can get much closer, often within 40ft.
Bailey took position and was immediately into a bone! With Filipe on his elbow, I took position 100ft away and made some casts at the fish. A fun but somewhat frustrating 10 minutes transpired where the bones would bite my little shrimp, I’d have them for a brief moment, and they would be off. I switched to a crab and bingo, big eats! They ate the crab much harder and I pulled 5 or so out of the crowd.
Like many of the most magical moments in fly fishing, the next 30 minutes were a bit of a blur.
Bailey was posted up casting when I looked across the flat and saw black finned torpedo’s, backs out of the water, charging up the bonefish flat. “PERMIT” I yelled and charged the thigh deep water on an intercept course. Filipe quickly was at my elbow as I made my first cast. I had changed my fly again a moment earlier to sample a new shrimp and knew it was not the right fly for the permit. It was too light and small, these fish were eating hard and making a ruckus. They swam off without seeing my fly from several well placed casts.
Frantically, we waded along with them as Filipe plucked a crab from my hat and tied it on while moving. The fish stopped and I made a cast. He followed! I cast again at the rooting fish and my line tightened for a second then went slack. The fish had kissed my fly! But then the fish were moving off again and Filipe and I were left dumbtruck.
We waded back to the boat while a long cast away Bailey was still rooted to the same spot, railing bones.
At the boat Filipe and I with his broken English and me with my semi-functional Spanish asked the gods what had happened. They were good shots. Really good shots.
A while later and after a cold CocaCola, Bailey waded back to the boat and we hopped in to search further down the flat. But not 30 seconds into loading up, Filipe spotted permit at 300 feet making a huge mud cloud!
“Lets go” he yelled, and we were in in a dash, wading waist deep. At 60 ft I cast into the mud and the mess of permit tails.
But where was my fly? Shit I didn’t have a fly!
In the boat seconds before I was re tying my rig with fresh leader, lighter because of my previous refusal. I had jumped into the fray before tying on a fly!
Filipe ripped the same crab the permit had kissed earlier from my hat and tied it on. He’s shaking. I’m shaking. The permit were moving closer. We backed up. They kept coming, we kept backing. Finally, with the fish 40ft away, I had a fly! I cast right into the middle of the gang of thug permit. They were big, tails up, feeding like crazy. But no eat! I cast again, letting my crab slow sink, just pulling slack out, and the line came tight! I strip set and the fish was off in a bolt. I had to clear 30ft of extra line as the reel hit the drag. A few soft adjustments on my Galvan to tighten up as backing ripped off at astonishing speed. These fish run fast!
After 10 minutes, the thrill was over, but I still had 150 yards of backing out and had followed the fish halfway to Belize.
Eventually, Filipe in his undersized net managed to scoop the permit. Celebration! Bailey had waited a patient 45 minutes to take a picture, which Filipe then insisted to have his boat in the background. We waded the 1/3 mile back to the boat and so, I had my first permit of the trip, what a rush!