TLDR: I caught a bonefish, on a fly rod, with my oldest son. It doesn't get much better than that. Scroll for pics.
Full Story:
I FINALLY checked this one off the bucket list. Certainly not the biggest, but big enough to burn the crap out of my finger on the first run! I won't forget gloves next time, ha ha.
This has been at or near the very top of my list ever since I was 12 years old and became enthralled with the idea after reading an article in Field & Stream (I think it was). I saved up my nickels doing hard labor that hot summer, and bought myself a little 4wt Pfleuger, and a fly tying vice. I tied an untold number of "whatchamacallit" flies- 75% that never saw the water. The others got demolished by panfish and bass in any pond I could find on my bike. But I always tried tying a crab, shrimp, or minnow looking fly that I imagined a bonefish would eat (having no real idea).
I cut my fly fishing teeth on trout in the Colorado mountains each summer, spending hours catching every brookie and cutthroat I could find. When I got married, my wife's grandfather gave me his old automatic fly rod from the 50's, which I fixed up and terrorized bass with at the local pond. I have lived in Colorado for the last 7 years, and further developed my love for the fly. I'm not exclusive- I'll catch anything that swims with anything it takes. But I've always dreamed of tangling with a big fish on the fly.
4 years ago, I hired a guide to take me and a buddy out on Texoma to chase stripers with a fly rod. We didn't even see a fish surface, much less get a strike or swirl. I still had a blast casting my first 9WT.
2 summers ago, I was in Florida and hired a skiff to pole me around chasing redfish. Record rains flooded and muddied the shallows, so fishing was futile. I still spent all day throwing that dang streamer with hope. I had one brief bite first thing in the am. I saw my line move about 12" as a fish grabbed my fly, but it was gone my the time I could strip set. I had too much slack on the cast. That one encounter with a puppy drum was enough to keep me begging for more.
This year, our family took a cruise that put me in Cozumel for a couple of hours. I hired a guide with a Panga to take my son and I to chase whatever might be haunting the lagoons on the north end of the island. I dreamed of the possibility of tangling with a bonefish, but would have been happy to watch my son catch something instead.
We passed around a stomach bug on the cruise, so both he and I were still feeling pretty drained the day of our fishing trip. We weren't going to let it stop us, and met our guide in a remote marina. Quickly we set off across the beautiful turquoise waters and thankfully calm seas. Smiles all round as our excitement grew. We puttered about 40 minutes to a distant lagoon.
As we entered the lagoon, the wind was kicking up and the water was cloudier than expected. It was obvious that wade fishing wouldn't be super productive, as we only had maybe 2 hours to fish. So, we opted to set up drifts and blind cast, hoping to catch a glimpse of a fish possibly as well.
We set up on our first drift, and I got my son fishing first from the middle. I took my perch on the front with the 9WT the guide handed me. I laid about 30' of line out, and stripped another 20'- I was set. Or as set as a terrible caster like me can be. I have never taken a casting lesson, am completely self-taught, and it SHOWS. I can float a dry fly where I need it (even if the cast looks ugly). But casting big rods on the flats and in wind is a WHOLE different ballgame.
I looked out ahead of me, and picked a fishy looking spot out at about 11. The sand was bare, at least more bare than the surrounding sand, and slightly stirred up. I didn't see a fish, but I didn't expect to either. The spot just felt right, it looked slightly different, if you know what I mean. One false cast had me going, and I actually executed a good double haul (for me, anyway), and the fly line laid out pretty decently. My fly landed 2' upwind of the sandy spot I was aiming for. I kept my rod tip in the water, and immediately stripped the slack out.
The guide, who had been almost silent the whole trip thus far, suddenly whispered "Good cast. Strip, strip… strip, strip… stop!" I felt the fly line begin sliding between my left fingers. I had practiced breaking my habit of trout-setting, but you never know if habits will take over in the moment. Thankfully, I remembered to strip set, and then came to on a very pissed off fish!
I can't really bend my left index finger (story for another day), and I couldn't get it out of the way fast enough. The fish was peeling off line faster than I ever imagined, and I couldn't care less that it felt like he was just going to cut my finger off. I was able to get him on the reel without too much more fuss, and the battle ensured. He made 3 big screaming runs, and several more small runs as well. It was amazing!!! I had the biggest smile plastered on my face, and my 9 year old son was right behind me cheering me on.
We finally got him to the boat. He was bigger than I expected, because I really expected to catch just tiny bones (if any at all). But at the same time, it surprised me how small he was- because of the epic fight he put up. Truly, pound-for-pound, the hardest fighting fish I have ever had the honor of tangling with. We got him in and took a few quick pics before releasing him. I had just caught my fist ever bonefish, on my first cast, with my oldest son there to share it with. That is the stuff dreams are made of!!!
About 10 minutes later, my son starts yelling as his drag starts peeling off (he was using a spinning rod), and I turn around to see that he is hooked into his first bonefish. It's quite a bit more of a fight than he imaged, and he is loving every second (even if he is still green from the stomach bug). We all cheered him on as he hauled it in, and I couldn't have been more proud of him.
We moved and set up a second drift a while later, and I spotted another little spot where the sand looked bare. I can't really explain it, but it was just like the sand had no color or texture in that little spot. I'm guessing that is because there is a fish there feeding? I asked the guide "1 o'clock, 40 feet?" He peered over and said "Si." Thankfully the wind was helping me, and I made a halfway decent cast and landed about 3 feet past the spot. Strip, strip, strip, and I was in the zone. Two little strips, and I was hooked up again. I strip set, and as the fish began to run I called my son up, and let him tangle with this one. He gladly pulled in our 3rd bone of the day. It was just a little guy, but we didn't care one bit.
The wind started kicking up, and killing my awful casting form. So I tried to snag another one on the spinning rod for a bit, while my son tried not to melt. He wasn't feeling well, but I could tell he was gutting it out for my sake. I called it after the last fruitless drift, and we headed back.
I am so glad to have checked this off my list, and with my oldest boy too! What an absolutely amazing time. I have caught a LOT of fish in my life, and been blessed with a wide variety of experiences and big fish. But, this one is my favorite so far, for a number of reasons.
The only problem- it has ruined me, as all I want to do is spend all of my money chasing down more bonefish!!! Who is putting together an OB group Bonefish expedition?!?!
Full Story:
I FINALLY checked this one off the bucket list. Certainly not the biggest, but big enough to burn the crap out of my finger on the first run! I won't forget gloves next time, ha ha.
This has been at or near the very top of my list ever since I was 12 years old and became enthralled with the idea after reading an article in Field & Stream (I think it was). I saved up my nickels doing hard labor that hot summer, and bought myself a little 4wt Pfleuger, and a fly tying vice. I tied an untold number of "whatchamacallit" flies- 75% that never saw the water. The others got demolished by panfish and bass in any pond I could find on my bike. But I always tried tying a crab, shrimp, or minnow looking fly that I imagined a bonefish would eat (having no real idea).
I cut my fly fishing teeth on trout in the Colorado mountains each summer, spending hours catching every brookie and cutthroat I could find. When I got married, my wife's grandfather gave me his old automatic fly rod from the 50's, which I fixed up and terrorized bass with at the local pond. I have lived in Colorado for the last 7 years, and further developed my love for the fly. I'm not exclusive- I'll catch anything that swims with anything it takes. But I've always dreamed of tangling with a big fish on the fly.
4 years ago, I hired a guide to take me and a buddy out on Texoma to chase stripers with a fly rod. We didn't even see a fish surface, much less get a strike or swirl. I still had a blast casting my first 9WT.
2 summers ago, I was in Florida and hired a skiff to pole me around chasing redfish. Record rains flooded and muddied the shallows, so fishing was futile. I still spent all day throwing that dang streamer with hope. I had one brief bite first thing in the am. I saw my line move about 12" as a fish grabbed my fly, but it was gone my the time I could strip set. I had too much slack on the cast. That one encounter with a puppy drum was enough to keep me begging for more.
This year, our family took a cruise that put me in Cozumel for a couple of hours. I hired a guide with a Panga to take my son and I to chase whatever might be haunting the lagoons on the north end of the island. I dreamed of the possibility of tangling with a bonefish, but would have been happy to watch my son catch something instead.
We passed around a stomach bug on the cruise, so both he and I were still feeling pretty drained the day of our fishing trip. We weren't going to let it stop us, and met our guide in a remote marina. Quickly we set off across the beautiful turquoise waters and thankfully calm seas. Smiles all round as our excitement grew. We puttered about 40 minutes to a distant lagoon.
As we entered the lagoon, the wind was kicking up and the water was cloudier than expected. It was obvious that wade fishing wouldn't be super productive, as we only had maybe 2 hours to fish. So, we opted to set up drifts and blind cast, hoping to catch a glimpse of a fish possibly as well.
We set up on our first drift, and I got my son fishing first from the middle. I took my perch on the front with the 9WT the guide handed me. I laid about 30' of line out, and stripped another 20'- I was set. Or as set as a terrible caster like me can be. I have never taken a casting lesson, am completely self-taught, and it SHOWS. I can float a dry fly where I need it (even if the cast looks ugly). But casting big rods on the flats and in wind is a WHOLE different ballgame.
I looked out ahead of me, and picked a fishy looking spot out at about 11. The sand was bare, at least more bare than the surrounding sand, and slightly stirred up. I didn't see a fish, but I didn't expect to either. The spot just felt right, it looked slightly different, if you know what I mean. One false cast had me going, and I actually executed a good double haul (for me, anyway), and the fly line laid out pretty decently. My fly landed 2' upwind of the sandy spot I was aiming for. I kept my rod tip in the water, and immediately stripped the slack out.
The guide, who had been almost silent the whole trip thus far, suddenly whispered "Good cast. Strip, strip… strip, strip… stop!" I felt the fly line begin sliding between my left fingers. I had practiced breaking my habit of trout-setting, but you never know if habits will take over in the moment. Thankfully, I remembered to strip set, and then came to on a very pissed off fish!
I can't really bend my left index finger (story for another day), and I couldn't get it out of the way fast enough. The fish was peeling off line faster than I ever imagined, and I couldn't care less that it felt like he was just going to cut my finger off. I was able to get him on the reel without too much more fuss, and the battle ensured. He made 3 big screaming runs, and several more small runs as well. It was amazing!!! I had the biggest smile plastered on my face, and my 9 year old son was right behind me cheering me on.
We finally got him to the boat. He was bigger than I expected, because I really expected to catch just tiny bones (if any at all). But at the same time, it surprised me how small he was- because of the epic fight he put up. Truly, pound-for-pound, the hardest fighting fish I have ever had the honor of tangling with. We got him in and took a few quick pics before releasing him. I had just caught my fist ever bonefish, on my first cast, with my oldest son there to share it with. That is the stuff dreams are made of!!!
About 10 minutes later, my son starts yelling as his drag starts peeling off (he was using a spinning rod), and I turn around to see that he is hooked into his first bonefish. It's quite a bit more of a fight than he imaged, and he is loving every second (even if he is still green from the stomach bug). We all cheered him on as he hauled it in, and I couldn't have been more proud of him.
We moved and set up a second drift a while later, and I spotted another little spot where the sand looked bare. I can't really explain it, but it was just like the sand had no color or texture in that little spot. I'm guessing that is because there is a fish there feeding? I asked the guide "1 o'clock, 40 feet?" He peered over and said "Si." Thankfully the wind was helping me, and I made a halfway decent cast and landed about 3 feet past the spot. Strip, strip, strip, and I was in the zone. Two little strips, and I was hooked up again. I strip set, and as the fish began to run I called my son up, and let him tangle with this one. He gladly pulled in our 3rd bone of the day. It was just a little guy, but we didn't care one bit.
The wind started kicking up, and killing my awful casting form. So I tried to snag another one on the spinning rod for a bit, while my son tried not to melt. He wasn't feeling well, but I could tell he was gutting it out for my sake. I called it after the last fruitless drift, and we headed back.
I am so glad to have checked this off my list, and with my oldest boy too! What an absolutely amazing time. I have caught a LOT of fish in my life, and been blessed with a wide variety of experiences and big fish. But, this one is my favorite so far, for a number of reasons.
The only problem- it has ruined me, as all I want to do is spend all of my money chasing down more bonefish!!! Who is putting together an OB group Bonefish expedition?!?!
Time to find a skiff since you live near (ish) to the coast again! 