Interpolation April 26, 2005 A few notes about Andros bonefishing. If you’re after the big girls, forget light tippets and #8, weightless flies. Standard gear for big bones here is a 9-weight rigged with 9 foot, 16-20 pound leaders and #2 forged saltwater hooks, double strength preferred. (I straightened two #4 stainless Mustad 34007’s [1] [...]
Posts Tagged ‘old journal’
Travel Log: Andros (Pt. I)
Living Vicariously Through the Past April 26, 2005 Yesterday we flew out of Miami, the old D concourse where American Eagle buses passengers to miniature aircraft bound for points south and east—the Bahamas, Turks and Caicos, Key West and more, places a fly rod is pretty much required. We were treated to our first view of north [...]
Blue Fins and All… (Pt. III)
December 28, 2000 Since I had only been out practicing my cast I had no more flies on me. I carefully waded back to shore and, once on the beach, bolted for my car. I scrabbled through the first flybox I found, tied on a new fly (taking at least five times as long as [...]
Blue Fins and All… (Pt. II)
December 28, 2000 Today I’ve decided not to go fishing. Instead thought I’d merely practice casting. There is a small flat a few minutes from home that’s perfect for this—shallow water, wide open spaces, and no mangroves to grab errant back-casts. I’d even occasionally seen bonefish there, but not today; today, it was just practice. [...]
Blue Fins and All… (Pt. I)
December 28, 2000 The year is almost out and I’m faced with the very real prospect of having fished nearly all of it without catching a single one. And I mean fished, seriously fished. This year has been an almost single minded pursuit of a frustratingly elusive creature: the bonefish. It wasn’t just a weekend thing either—though I [...]
Life: 81.5º West
Fall, 2001 The clouds began to pile up to the windward, mounting higher as they blocked the sun. Soon we could see the line of rain itself advancing across the water, blotting out the island behind it. The gusts would become a sustained wind, whipping the waves into whitecaps around us. Above the noise of [...]
The Galley’s Open (Pt. I)
December 25, 2000 After the festivities we went down to the sea, my father and I. We loaded up flies, rods, flashlights, knives, casting buckets, and leader fixings, piled it all in his truck and went in search of tarpon. It seemed the thing to do. Around here tarpon hunting doesn’t necessarily mean big motors, [...]
