Fishing at Last
The next morning I met Herman Bain and we ate a quick breakfast. Herman’s father, Sydney, was to be our guide to fish Bowen Sound. We hooked up the boat and loaded the car with four Beartooth fly rods and boxes of flies.
On the way to Bowen Sound we picked up Sydney and greeted everybody standing in front of his house. It was a large group. Sydney was 70 and while guiding for 50 years he had twelve children and thirty grandchildren.
Piles of conch shells, sponges, and glue green water reflected in my sunglasses as we pushed Dan’s boat into the water. Sydney poled the boat to deeper water, started the 90 Yamaha and we took off in a blue streak.
He knew every inch of water and how fish move with the tides. Dan wanted to wade so we made plans where to meet later. Sydney and I motored to the lower end of the flats and we saw a huge monster barracuda swim by the boat.
After an hour of poling we saw three bonefish within casting distance. I was too excited and they vanished in the blue. Sydney showed me holes in the sand where bonefish were feeding.
We met Dan and ate lunch. Sydney thought it would be a good idea to wade for awhile. Dan spotted cloudy water where bonefish were feeding and hooked one instantly.
I put on an orange fly and moved to the cloudy water and made a long cast. I let the fly sink and started to strip. The fly stopped suddenly and my reel handle blurred as the fish made a long sizzling run. It was my first bonefish, a sleek chrome sided three pounder.
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Copyright © Bern Sundell 2007. All Rights Reserved.
