Snake Guides: Bahamas Day 1

Bahamas Bonefishing Day 1:

It was travel day. 6:00 AM departure with one connection through Atlanta and everything was on time. CA and I collected our gear and breezed through Bahamian customs. We walked out the front doors and were met promptly by the lodge owner ST.

Talk about smooth.

I first fished with ST back in 2008 when the guide service I called said that all of their in house guys were booked but that they'd be happy to arrange for a fill in guide to take me out. We had a great day on the water and it didn't surprise me when I heard that he had signed on as the head guide (and now owner) of the bonefishing lodge we were heading to. This was to be our 3rd trip back to this lodge.

After loading the skiff with provisions, ST, ST's wife (KT), CA and I shoved off and headed across the flats to the island lodge where we would try to figure out what to do with the stack of rods and thousands of flies we brought along.

As day one was not a "guided" day, we wasted no time unpacking and lacing up our wading boots for a stroll on the "home flat". For all that have done it before, you know what I mean when I say we didn't quite have our "sea eyes" yet. We blew up a couple of nice bones and watched their wakes disappear into deeper water. After a quarter mile we turned around and with the sun at our backs the visibility improved, though we were now walking through disturbed water. As any native of sweet water will do as soon as their shins hit salt water, we pasted flies at needlefish and tiny barracuda.
Great to be back.

I made my way back to the dock and walked out looking around, down and over. Under the dock there was a giant school of Lane Snapper and a few nice sized ones. The smallest of the group at my bonefish fly and after releasing it I was summarily ignored by the remaining 200 fish.

I opted to wade the shoreline to the north and see what else might be hungry. I switched to the classic saltwater probing fly...chartreuse and white clouser. With a relatively stiff breeze hitting me smack in the face it took a little effort to punch the fly out, but there was an imaginary line out at about 60' that if the fly crossed it, it was savagely attacked by mutton snappers.

These were not big fish but they pulled like fish three times their size and it was CA who suggested that perhaps we should keep a few for dinner.

Since we were wading out knee deep we devised an old school "stick through the gills" method of keeping the fish. The snappers (and jacks) were eating so feverishly that I was on the lookout for a piece of rope or string for a stringer. Walking all the way back to the shallows to thread the snappers on a stick seemed to take a lot of time. In the days that followed I am glad I never found that rope and I am certainly glad I didn't keep the dead fish near me as we fished. Even so, we were taking a risk, placing ourselves in the deeper water between our catch and....well, I'll explain in the posts that follow.