As with your first salmon, I had been assured that catching that first bone fish is something you never forget. Problem is, as with your first kiss, recounting what is a great memory for you, could bore a stuffed parrot off its perch. So, if you have been sleeping badly – read on.
I had not been sea fishing in the tropics before so the opportunity for a trip to Belize was a rare treat! From what I had heard about the power of bones I had imagined that one would be fishing with heavy rods and so was surprised when Pete suggested that my favourite 9 ft Scott would be ideal. But his suggestion that my fly line should have at least 200m of backing really got my pulse racing! Eventually after a long series of flights, via Miami and Belize City we were flying from Dangriga to Hopkins in a small single prop plane flying low along the coast. The sea was a clear azure blue with plumes of black water draining off the peaty swamps. Occasionally we flew over the flats where the reef, that extends along most of Belize, was marked by pale areas of shallow water. More adrenalin as one imagined the fish below just waiting for my arrival!
The next day we headed off in small boats to the flats that were several miles off shore. There was a brisk easterly wind blowing that had generated quite a heavy swell. It was exhilarating cutting along the sides of each roller and occasionally hitting one at an angle so that the outboard raced at the boat cleared the water. It was strange to travel for an hour over deep water to suddenly arrive among mangrove islands with lumbering white pelicans perching on the lee side and the pre-historic shapes of frigate birds wheeling overhead like pterodactyls. A sudden squall of rain drove us to seek shelter on an island with small hut built of driftwood that belonged to the brother of our guide, Lloyd. About a third of the tiny island was covered with empty conch shells in piles of brilliant pink and pale mauve. The conches are prized food and the shells also fetch a good price from tourists.
The clouds cleared and in brilliant sun we started wading in warm, knee-deep water. The white sand could be seen beneath the dancing sea grass with occasional little balls of crunchy pink coral. Despite my mounting excitement it was easy to get distracted by big, deep maroon starfish, brightly coloured shells and occasional rays gracefully flying away like dark shadows. Lloyd was scouting for ‘nervous water’ where a pod of bones, feeding head down, agitate the surface. Suddenly he pointed, ’Fifty feet, coming this way!’ Initially I could see nothing but suddenly spotted them, cast a small pink shrimp fly just ahead of where I could see the water rippling as the bones approached. ‘Wait … wait ….. wait. Strip! Strip! Strip!’ I stripped the line fast until the fly was only a few metres away and my heart was pounding as I could see several bones following . Suddenly tension on the line, and then that magic moment all bone fishers remember as your reel screams as the bone heads off the shallow flat towards deeper water. After taking at least 150m of backing the fish paused and I was able to retrieve about half of the line. Then it was off again stripping more backing with the rod bent in a beautiful arc. After that run, and a few more short lunges Lloyd caught hold of the leader and lifted out a fine bone of about 2.5kg. Although it was a good fish I was surprised that something that size was quite so powerful until I felt the solid hardness of its muscles. I caught other bones but, as they say, you never forget losing your bone virginity and becoming a bone man! So that was mine. How was yours or are you face down with the keyboard imprinted on your cheek? Well I did warn you!
Jo travelled out to Belize with Fly Odyssey specialists in fly fishing holidays around the world