Love the way this short film captures the joy (and frustration) of a (mostly) DIY fishing trip to an unknown location. I can relate, having done the same in Honduras, Panama, Little Cayman, Eleuthera and Acklins (both Bahamas). (Oh, yeah, and also the Florida Keys, which shows I have no idea of the boundary between reality and fantasy.)
Believe it or not, many of our guests on Grand Cayman do mostly DIY, and we encourage that. (Ok, if not actually encourage, then completely understand and are willing to give advice, fly selection and pointers to facilitate.) In fact, we are the “Local Experts” for the Cayman Islands on Rod Hamilton’s excellent website www.diyfishing.com—an great site that combines DIY fishing reports, guided reports, expert advice and some of the most comprehensive accommodations listings I’ve seen in a while. We’re happy to be a part of the DIYfishing community and (as always) wish you all:
Owner, Guide & Bonefishionado:
FISH BONES, Fly Fish Cayman!
I saw 3 or 4 swimming straight at me. It was almost surreal. I did exactly as you had described in the book and without a hitch dropped the tan Crazy Charlie about 2 feet in front of the lead fish. I watched astonished as he just kept coming with intent and then tipped…
Loved this story over on diybonefishing.com. It realistically depicts the challenge (and rewards) of catching the Grey Ghost of the flats on fly by yourself. It also demonstrates why some instruction—in this case Rod’s very useful book—is better than trying to figure the whole thing out from scratch.
Bonefish are pretty much 180 degrees from the species most anglers target on fly. Everything, from the presentation to the hook-set is wildly different from what we’re used to. I see it every day I guide. If you cast past the fish and pull the fly towards them: game over. If you “trout set”: game over. If you roll-cast and rip the water: game over. If you use tippet with the letter X anywhere in it: game over. Walk the flats and blind cast: game over.
Rod’s book contains the fundamentals of targeting bonefish on the fly and helps clarify all these issues. After that, it’s just up to you get out there and do it!
If you haven’t already subscribed to Rod Hamilton’s blog on that site, you should. Weekly stories, fishing reports and tips to get you fired up (and more prepared) for that next flats fishing venture.
Here, I am slow motion. Layers of break-neck life peeling away. I know it’s the wide-open expanse of frontier plainsong. Forever rolling and howling as the speedometer pushes 85 and The Grateful Dead wander their highway through Althea in Nassau. I am small here.
If you haven’t yet, you should head over to FishingPoet and read the rest. I usually try to stick to salty subjects here on FlatsWalker, but some stuff is simply so good you’ve got to make allowances. Besides, it certainly falls under the heading of “Spilled Ink”.
Two fish displayed evidence of bacterial infection following handling, and both fish were exposed to the zinc sunscreen treatment. Based on these results, anglers should consider avoiding handling of fish with sunscreen-coated hands, as well as with UV gloves.
FlyLife Magazine just published an interesting article outlining a couple interesting experiments done at Bahamas’ Cape Eleuthera Institute (CEI) wetlab where they tested the effects of sunscreen tinted baits on bonefish feeding behaviour and whether sunscreen (conventional or zinc-based), sun gloves or clean wet hands are better for handling fish.
The results are interesting (and you can read the full account at the link above), but the basics are this:
- Sunscreen doesn’t deter or attract bonefish to bait. They are primarily sight feeders, so a refusal is probably because of something off in a presentation, or the fly pattern itself. Don’t blame the sunscreen.
- Although conventional sunscreen removed the most slime, zinc-based sunscreen seemed to cause the most damage to the bonefish.
- Clean, wet hands are the best for handling fish… so remove those sun gloves first.
I personally love the work Bonefish & Tarpon Trust are doing, and if you care at all about these species, so should you. Give em a click. Read. Join.
We’re so consumed by our phones and social networks, that sometimes we forget to live.
“As soon as you see something, you already start to intellectualize it. As soon as you intellectualize something, it is no longer what you saw.”
— Shunryu Suzuki-roshi
That’s the thing about memory, and any devices (digital or not) that we use to help facilitate memory. Any angler has surely noticed this phenomenon while fighting a big fish. There is a part of your mind—the busy, book-keeping part—that immediately begins recounting the events to you as they happen, in preparation for the story you’ll eventually tell your friends and family (and anyone who seems even remotely interested in fishing).
But storytelling is, by it’s very nature, an editing process. It doesn’t take in the full experience, it cannot. It concerns itself with plot, with character arc and fantastic events. The rest of the experience is simply edited out, excised from the narrative (and, in some ways, from our memory). And worse, the more we tell that story the more it becomes that memory, gradually supplanting the actual experience in our mind. On the other hand, the small fish, the un-memorable catches and, most of all, the unproductive periods spent simply fishing, they are the purest experiences because they are simply lived.
That’s why fishing stories seem so much like fiction, they don’t correspond to what we know real life is like. It’s also why on some level we don’t trust the well-crafted social media image put forth by other anglers. We know what our daily lives are like, how can theirs’ be obviously so much better—well composed, with better colors, bigger fish, prettier girls and nicer food. And so we go out ourselves, armed with an array of media-capturing devices with the goal of competing in this new world of public privacy. We publish videos, post on #TBT, and update the Facebook™ feed. Or sadder still, post on our pathetic blogs (which frankly, no one will read if they don’t make it to a Facebook™ post).
Go ahead, live vicariously. Take a glimpse into the vast Everglades through the eyes and stories of official Estrada Art crewmembers. The first of a new series of films, they will take you into the ‘glades from all angles, on poling skiffs and paddle boards and kayaks. From Islamorada, to Flamingo and Everglades City these dudes are living it.
~ * ~
I fished with Eric Estrada a couple years ago, well, 2013, but it feels like more than a year and a bit. He joined our crew for something we never could figure a proper name for so I just ended up calling it the Florida Gathering… or something similar. Basically it was a bunch of bloggers and guides (and artists) getting together and fishing. We were supposed to take pics, vids, and write stories on our various blogs. I didn’t… yet. There’s stuff percolating, but nothing has been anything like put on paper. Not that it wasn’t a great (not to say epic) trip, cause it was. It was just hard to put into a simple statement. (Unless you’re this guy and can forge a week of mis-matched fishing mayhem into something akin to poetry.)
Anyways, back to Eric. He was a cool dude to fish with. Old school. A throwback to that old-world salt who not only knew his shit, but expected you to as well. And, when you (inevitably) screwed up he would tell you, not out of cruelty or spite, but out of an honest place of constructive criticism. I liked him. I also caught a big-ass Peacock Bass with him within like an hour of meeting the guy, so I might have been biased from the outset. Nevertheless, I truly enjoyed his enthusiasm and personality throughout our stay in Islmorada. I mean, not too many other anglers would be willing to drop everything, pickup a couple complete strangers from Miami International and then drive several hours and guide them for a couple days, for free! Who does that?
I’m glad to see Eric doing well and supporting local talent the way he does. The man works hard and has way of keeping in the background that seems neither braggadocios or falsely modest. It’s just who he is.
So, this is an official shout out, from one old-school salt to another.
Tight lines, brother.
WindKnot the Elder