# Yet Another Adventure In Failure – Caribbean Roadtrip – Easter 2010



## HaMm3r (Dec 11, 2006)

This is a difficult story to write and one I am loath to pen, because until I do I can almost pretend it didn’t happen. Nonetheless, I feel I must share this latest chapter in what is unintentionally and unhappily becoming a dark, disheartening saga about a quest for bonefish.

Ah yes, the bonefish, perhaps the epitomic species to many a saltwater fly angler and the antecedent of my third trip to the Caribbean in hopes of landing one on the long rod. It is the allure of this fish that had once again brought me to a remote and sparsely populated island somewhere in the tropics. Although, claiming that there are only a few inhabitants is a bit of an untruth, as there did seem to be a large population of wild chickens running around the jungle.









How I arrived at such a locale is largely unimportant, other than to say it required a bit of subterfuge and quite a lot of legwork. But eventually, my ambulation led me to this spot, and my first empirical glimpse of the pristine sand and grass flats that I had studied via aerial photography for weeks prior.









A few more steps and the trees gave way to the endless blue expanse of the Caribbean, lapping softly against the white powder sand beach upon which I stood, and after reveling in my surroundings for a few moments I settled upon a nearby coral shelf to unpack my gear.

















Soon thereafter, I was two hundred yards offshore, walking a promising line of seagrass, when a vanguard of bright gray torpedoes suddenly emerged from the grass. There was no mistaking the twelve or more shapes moving in singular formation directly toward me, these were bonefish, BIG bonefish! I was thrilled, but I honestly hadn’t expected an encounter so quickly and was still in sight-seeing mode, more or less. I managed to get a cast off before they spooked, but it was way too close and they saw me at just about the same moment that they began chasing the fly. The whole school broke off and veered around me no more than twenty feet to my left.

“Wow”, was about the only thought I had. I wasn’t disappointed or upset, in fact, I remember thinking that if I saw a school like that within the first ten minutes of fishing, the rest of the day was going to be awesome!

Figuring that I was probably standing in a “lane” that might be used by other schools, I adjusted my position and began shuffling my way parallel to the shore. No more than five minutes later, I spotted a single gray shadow making its way right along the lane I’d just envisioned. This time, I was more than ready and laid down a near perfect cast. I had plenty of time, there was no rush, but my heart was racing like I’d just run a marathon. I started stripping as the bone approached, and then seemingly within the span of one of those heartbeats, I found myself standing with the rod tip raised and quivering impotently, slack line in hand and what I’m sure must have been the most comical “WHAT THE ….?” expression on my face that anyone has ever seen!

Unlike the previous encounter, I had a whole lot of thoughts that time, such as “HOLY CRAP THAT WAS FAST” and “Good God That Was A Big Bonefish”, moreover “How The Hell Am I Supposed To React That Quick” and “WHO THE F… TOLD ME THAT 12LB TIPPET WOULD BE FINE?!!” Needless to say that fly was gone and my tippet was quickly upgraded to 16lb, which I would soon learn was still not enough, but that part of the story has yet to be told.

So, at that point I had been bonefishing all of twenty minutes and already had two big time run-ins with the target species. I was excited, to say the least, and figured there was no way I was going home without landing one. It was then I noticed there were schools of smaller fish all around me, and not having any real idea what they were, I decided to see if I could catch one.









That endeavor turned out to be highly fruitful and entertaining during the lulls between bonefish sightings. I found that if I stood real still, these little fish would swim right up and take position nearby. Plus, they aggressively chased Crazy Charlies and would have truly been a blast on lighter tackle. I landed several of them over the course of the day and I now believe they were some species of Mojarra.

















My next bonefish confrontation came as I was watching a large stingray work its way lazily over a shallow sandbar and turn in my direction. As it drew closer, I realized that it had four or five smaller shadows trailing a few feet behind it, and I quickly dropped a cast across the path I hoped the ray would take. Once the body of the ray had passed over my line, I began stripping line and instantly the shadows turned into a maelstrom of silvery fireworks!

This time a much gentler grip with my stripping hand resulted in a successful hookup, and although I desperately worked to clear the line as it ripped into the guides, a stubborn twist made its way past my fingers and jammed two-thirds of the way up the rod. It was an awesome five seconds, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cry a little bit that time…

Amazingly, I got my fly back, so after retying I continued working my way along the coast, planning to round the tip of the island before hiking back to my starting point. Along the way, I passed some incredible scenery, beautiful coastline and amazing sea life, but no bonefish.

















This stingray was a bit too curious for my liking…









After rounding the point of the cay, I came upon a fantastic little cove, filled with houndfish and stingrays. The houndfish performed some tremendous aerial acrobatics when hooked, but refused to stay on long enough to be caught. So after tiring of that futile exercise, I took a break up on the rocks and snapped a few pictures.

















Once rested, I made my way over land, back to the beach where I’d first entered the water. It was then that I realized how much the tide had come in and that the mid-calf deep flats I’d enjoyed earlier, were now upper thigh. I knew from triangulating the closest NOAA tidal stations that this island was about halfway thru the incoming tide, so I focused on the shallower areas I’d discovered earlier. This tactic led me to my final bonefish experience of the trip.

While walking along a now submerged stretch of sand that had been dry land only two hours prior, I again spotted a formation of large silhouettes following a deeper trough adjacent to the sandbar. It was an easy scenario and I dropped the fly well ahead of them and began stripping away. The entire school reacted almost immediately (it’s amazing how far they can see underwater), charged the lure and although I couldn’t see the pick-up, the sudden resistance and subsequent hissing of the line told me all I needed to know!

This time, I cleared the line just fine, was on the reel and into the backing. The loud whizzing of the drag was like angels singing and I was ecstatic! My heart was pounding, the adrenaline was pumping and I recall speaking instructions to myself out loud, as if that would somehow help. Unfortunately, it didn’t…

The fish and I had been at odds for a few moments and it had run in toward the shore, when I briefly felt a change in pressure, and I knew it was over! If you’ve ever had an experience where you can feel thru the rod that your line has brushed up against something or that a knot has slipped, then you know exactly what I felt for the split second before my rod tip sprung back with finality. That was it. The fly was gone. The tippet had broken again, probably on a rock or piece of coral. It was sickening, and I never got another chance.

I spent the next two and a half hours wading the same direction I’d worked earlier, then I hiked back a second time and waded an hour the opposite way. It made no difference. I saw no other bonefish, only rays, sharks, huge horseshoe crabs, something that looked like a bluefish and more of my Mojarra friends.

It’s tough to describe the queasy, disappointed numbness I felt as sat I on the rocks, packing my gear away for the trudge home. It’s still hard to believe, even now as I write these last few passages. I’m just not used to failure on this grand of a scale. Now, if you watch very many angling TV shows, the hosts often talk up the hunt, the presentation and the fight itself as the measure of success. They’ll claim that a “self-release” is just as good and still counts, but that doesn’t work for me. I need to hold that trophy in my hands, feel its strength, the texture of its skin and watch as the light prisms across its scales. Most of all, I need to look it in the eye and say thanks, as I often do, before returning it to its home. Until that happens, I have failed…and the saga will continue.


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## paint it black (Nov 3, 2007)

Great write up!!!

I felt as if I was there watching it unfold!


Sure is a big change of pace from bass fishing eh? lol

I hope to get my first bone on fly as soon as I pick up my Copperhead!


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## deerfly (Mar 10, 2007)

jeez Jeff, what a looser, maybe you should switch your sights to something easier like permit.  ;D

Excellent story and you'll have your trophy in hand one day, just never give up. I wish I still lived in S. Miami to help you break that spell. Not as postcard pretty as the islands, but there's a lot of good bonefish opportunities around S. Biscayne Bay and Gheenoe accessible too.


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## Brett (Jul 16, 2008)

> epitomic


Isn't that a river on the north side of Virginia? :-?

And you laughed at my use of straight 40 lb mono from flyline to fly! 

The ones you catch are never as memorable as the ones that get away...


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## kbuch312 (Feb 17, 2007)

I enjoyed the write up and greatly appreciate it.
Thanks.


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## djorgens (Feb 9, 2010)

Allot of 'experts' have made money on describing their fishing experiences with less eloquence. Sorry to see that you went so far & came so close to acquiring your target -without success. It will make the victory all the sweeter when it finally does happen. Thanks for sharing the great pictures & story.

--Dave


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## mark_gardner (Mar 18, 2009)

well i was kinda wondering what happened to you :-? forgot you were heading down to paradise  nice pics you got there  i wouldnt stress over just gives you a reason to go back, looks like a nice place to visit


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## chrism (Jul 1, 2007)

yeah that was a fun read, great pics too! sometimes the ldr's are more satisfying anyway... at least that's what i always tell myself


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## phishphood (Dec 15, 2006)

Well Jeff, I really enjoyed the pics and story. I had to look up a few of them big words, but it was still a great story. ;D You'll get that bone.


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## out-cast (Jan 27, 2009)

Big words ;D Thanks for the good read as always. Nice pics too. 4th pic looks like bone heaven.


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## tom_in_orl (Dec 9, 2006)

I get as much enjoyment reading about your failures as I do your success. lol Keep trying bud [smiley=thumbsup.gif]


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## DSampiero (Oct 18, 2009)

Well written, I had to stop reading(will finish it later) because it made me want to drive to Miami and spend a week on my old stomping grounds chasing tail...Suggestion, make or buy a mangrove industries style stripping basket, saves a ton of heartache when the line is being ripped through the guides. Also, How are you liking that Okuma SLV? I've got three and couldn't be happier with the mild price tag and seemingly excellent product.


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## HaMm3r (Dec 11, 2006)

> Great write up!!!
> I felt as if I was there watching it unfold!
> Sure is a big change of pace from bass fishing eh? lol
> I hope to get my first bone on fly as soon as I pick up my Copperhead!


Thanks man, I'm looking forward to seeing your new ride and hearing about your first fly-caught bone! I wish you better luck than I've had. 



> jeez Jeff, what a looser, maybe you should switch your sights to something easier like permit. ;D
> 
> Excellent story and you'll have your trophy in hand one day, just never give up. I wish I still lived in S. Miami to help you break that spell. Not as postcard pretty as the islands, but there's a lot of good bonefish opportunities around S. Biscayne Bay and Gheenoe accessible too.


Nothing like kicking a man when he's down, eh Eric? ;D Seriously though, I felt like giving up these past couple of days. All the planning, preperation, cost, effort and personal risk that goes into these trips just didn't seem worth it. But that's part of the reason I write, it helps, it helps me relive the good times and is great therapy for the bad. 

Also, don't misinterpret this because I appreciate the sentiment, but if I just wanted to catch a bonefish, I'd hire a guide. They're a dime a dozen in the islands. I don't mind fishing with guides, it can be great fun, but it's never the same feeling of accomplishment as doing it all on your own. I've just gotta do this myself...



> > epitomic
> 
> 
> Isn't that a river on the north side of Virginia? :-?
> ...


A river... ;D I did laugh and still think 40lb is a bit excessive.  However, to hell with the expert advice, next time I'm going with my instincts and starting with 20lb like I do for everything else. 



> I enjoyed the write up and greatly appreciate it.
> Thanks.


You're welcome, and thank you. 



> Allot of 'experts' have made money on describing their fishing experiences with less eloquence. Sorry to see that you went so far & came so close to acquiring your target -without success. It will make the victory all the sweeter when it finally does happen. Thanks for sharing the great pictures & story.
> 
> --Dave


Appreciate the compliments and the sympathy. ;D I've never made a dime writing any of these stories, but I've made a lot of friends, which is probably worth a whole lot more... 



> well i was kinda wondering what happened to you :-? forgot you were heading down to paradise  nice pics you got there  i wouldnt stress over just gives you a reason to go back, looks like a nice place to visit


I hear ya man, but going back is tough to do regularly, which is why failure is even more poignant.



> yeah that was a fun read, great pics too! sometimes the ldr's are more satisfying anyway... at least that's what i always tell myself


Glad you enjoyed my misery!  ;D 



> Well Jeff, I really enjoyed the pics and story. I had to look up a few of them big words, but it was still a great story. ;D You'll get that bone.


 ;D Them big words help me delude myself into believing I'm not a total failure after all. :-[



> Big words ;D Thanks for the good read as always. Nice pics too. 4th pic looks like bone heaven.


Thanks man! It was heaven, or possibly hell, hard to tell the difference... :-?



> I get as much enjoyment reading about your failures as I do your success. lol Keep trying bud [smiley=thumbsup.gif]


And you and I know about big time failure, eh? : Ironically, this really was my best self-guided bonefish trip ever. Compared to my past attempts, this was a huge step in the right direction. 



> Well written, I had to stop reading(will finish it later) because it made me want to drive to Miami and spend a week on my old stomping grounds chasing tail...Suggestion, make or buy a mangrove industries style stripping basket, saves a ton of heartache when the line is being ripped through the guides. Also, How are you liking that Okuma SLV? I've got three and couldn't be happier with the mild price tag and seemingly excellent product.


Thanks for the tip and glad it made you homesick.  As for the SLV, I think it's a great reel for the price. It looks good, feels good and I've submerged it a number of times in saltwater and it shows no signs of corrosion. It was laying on the bottom several times this past trip and it still performed when needed.


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## mark_gardner (Mar 18, 2009)

it just struck me but i cant help but notice the color of your hat and shirt up next to your shorts  no wonder you didnt catch anything, you need a tropical colored shirt and hat like pink or lime green, maybe a pale shade of yellow but the tan should be left for those back country trips like here at home   ;D the fish probably saw you coming for a mile   : ;D


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## HaMm3r (Dec 11, 2006)

> i just struck me but i cant help but notice the color of your hat and shirt up next to your shorts  no wonder you didnt catch anything, you need a tropical color shirt and hat like pink or lime green, maybe a pale shade of yellow but the tan should be left for those back country trips like here at home   ;D the fish probably saw you coming for a mile   : ;D


Ah, sarcasm... ;D Funny 

Being seen had nothing to do with the problem. I could spot them an easy 150ft away, while they only saw me at about the 30ft mark. Plus, the fish weren't spooky at all and I bet I could have stuck a hook in a cotton ball and they'd have eaten it. That part of it really couldn't have been easier, it was after they were hooked that gave me the trouble... :'(


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## flydipper (Sep 29, 2009)

Ham
Great story but not a failure- truly bonefishing has a learning curve- if you can learn something from this and apply it to next trip you will be well on the way. Please step down in leader strength after you catch a few. I always thought the greatest thrill was just tricking them into biting anyway. You did good- beautiful spot


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## gnuraider (Nov 4, 2008)

Only HaMm3r can make "failure" sound and look so awesome. Thanks for the great fishing story.


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## HaMm3r (Dec 11, 2006)

> Ham
> Great story but not a failure- truly bonefishing has a learning curve- if you can learn something from this and apply it to next trip you will be well on the way. Please step down in leader strength after you catch a few. I always thought the greatest thrill was just tricking them into biting anyway. You did good- beautiful spot


Thanks Captain! I'm slowly regaining my motivation to try again, and I appreciate the encouragement. 



> *Only HaMm3r can make "failure" sound and look so awesome.* Thanks for the great fishing story.


That simple little sentence means a whole heck of a lot to me, and is probably my favorite response to any of my reports in a long time. Thanks for saying it.


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