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Old 05-12-2017, 10:22 AM
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Join Date: Aug 2008
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timmy mullet is on a distinguished road
Default Zapatan Bones

I have just returned from six wonderful days of fly fishing the flats around the Zapata Peninsula in Cuba between November 19th – 24th. The trip was arranged through Fly Odyssey and involved an overnight stay in Varadero before a 5am minibus ride to Playa Largo on the south coast of Cuba where we joined the live on board yacht Georgiana, our home for the next six days.
The Georgiana is a spacious, well equipped vessel and offered the ideal means of exploring the expansive and lightly fished flats of Zapata. The skiffs which accompanied the mother ship offered three days of single skiff fishing in small lightweight skiffs which could access very skinny water and three days of shared skiff fishing in heavier boats which were suited to fishing for tarpon or anchoring up to wade and sight fish for bones on the shallow flats.
DAY ONE – The Georgiana set sail from Playa Larga at 8.30am under tropical blue skies and an already hot sun. The three hour voyage to our first anchor point in the Cayos Blancos Del Sur region provided ample opportunity to set up rods and leaders and talk flies and tactics with the guides. I was to share a cabin with Ted, a 78 year old from East Sussex who still bonefishes and sips rum with the best of them and was an inspiration to us all. Sean Clarke, our host for the trip, explained how the rota would operate to ensure that each angler enjoyed their quota of single and shared skiff days with the opportunity to fish with a different guide each day.
Following an early lunch on board the Georgiana it was time to pair up with our designated guides and let the fun begin. I was assigned a single skiff with my guide for the day Espin, who’s first question was “Do you like wading and bonefish”. I answered in the affirmative and we were soon skipping our way across a turquoise ocean towards some distant flats. After a twenty minute journey Espin cut the outboard and we slowly glided to a halt in what could only be described as sheer paradise. The flats consisted of pure white sand which stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions until swallowed up by the most perfectly blue sky, a few puffy white clouds the only blot on the horizon. Espin told me that these flats are where the guides come to practise and are some of the best around. With a quick perusal of the fly box Espin selected a size 6 leggy tan Gotcha which was then attached to a nine feet long tapered fluorocarbon leader. I normally fish a 6wt outfit with floating fly line but was advised to use an 8wt as the bones in this area are of a good average size!
The wading was easy and comfortable in a pair of Crocs while Espin walked bare foot in little more than eight inches of water. For twenty minutes we searched the shallows without result and then suddenly a shoal appeared within thirty feet of where we stood. Over pristine white sands and in such exceptionally clear, shallow water it was possible to view the fish themselves clearly rather than simply seeing their shadows as is often the case. A short cast delivered the Gotcha one meter in front of the fish. The plop of the fly hitting the water caused the shoal to spook and they briefly fled in the opposite direction before turning to investigate. “ Strip, strip”instructed Espin as a race developed between the bonefish to claim the fly. The pull on the line was unmistakable and a gentle strip strike saw the fly line come to life before rapidly disappearing towards the horizon along with copious amounts of backing line. The fish ran with incredible speed and seemed as though it would never stop and I was relieved to have opted for the 8wt with over 200m of backing on the reel. Eventually the fish came to a halt and by applying steady pressure and reeling in as quickly as I could the fly line was soon reunited with the reel and the bonefish came almost to hand until sensing our presence and launching into another gill bursting run. In the water the fish appeared to be around 3lb in weight but looks can be deceptive. A few moments later Espin grasped the leader and safely landed the first bonefish of the trip, a wonderfully silver fish of 5lb with prominent green stripes along its back, affording perfect camouflage.

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A further six fish of similar size fell to the Gotcha during the remainder of the afternoon, all seen approaching from distance thanks to perfect conditions of water clarity and clean bottom. To then observe the fish chase and pounce on the fly in such detail was a new and incredible experience.

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The setting sun signalled a return to the Georgiana where Danny the house-keeper welcomed returning anglers aboard with a delicious Mojito accompanied by freshly made pizza. Cold beers countered the heat of the day as stories were swapped in the glow of stunningly beautiful sun sets. Dinner was served at 7pm and the chef proved to be every bit as skilled as our guides and provided wonderful fayre based on chicken, pork, beef, lobster and rice in variety. Mahi mahi featured regularly and was utterly delicious, as was the snapper and crevalle caught by anglers for the chef to create ceviche. Once dinner had concluded each evening, Danny placed a bottle of Havana Club 7 Anos on the table along with a bucket of ice for us all to enjoy. Around 8.30pm the guides would come on deck and Sean would organise the order of fishing for the following day, allocating anglers to their respective skiffs and guides and the excitement would start to build again.

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DAY 2 – Tarpon Day. Today I was sharing a skiff with Nigel Horsman and we both agreed that tarpon would be our target. Following a delicious breakfast of toast, ham and omelettes washed down with strong, hot coffee the guides arrived at 8am to whisk us of to our chosen destinations. Nigel came armed with three 10wt rods, two set up for tarpon and the other featuring a steel trace should any barracuda be lurking in the mangroves. I carried one 10wt rod for tarpon and an 8wt for any bonefish we may encounter. Cheguy, our guide, selected black and red tarpon flies from our respective fly boxes. Thirty minutes later Cheguy cut the outboard and we glided into a mangrove lagoon. We could immediately hear tarpon splashing in a narrow channel leading from the lagoon, no doubt chasing sardine which leapt in panic around the channel entrance. Nigel was first up and as he prepared himself on the casting deck at the bow Cheguy poled the skiff towards the channel. Several tarpon were visible and Nigel’s first cast saw the fly line lock tight and an irate tarpon vented its fury in a series of acrobatic leaps and jumps. The advice is to drop the rod tip when you sense that a tarpon is about to jump in order to maintain a hook hold. Tarpon are masters of throwing the hook! Nigel played the fish well and Cheguy soon hauled a sparkling fish of 12lb on board.

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I was next up, the arrangement being that each angler fishes until they catch a fish or for a maximum of half an hour before swapping with their boat partner. The commotion resulting from Nigel’s battle with the tarpon had pushed the fish further up in to the mangroves, where loud splashes continued out of sight. Cheguy positioned the skiff inside the channel by the first bend and instructed me to wait. The channel was barely eight feet wide at this point and I began to wonder how on earth I would control a fish in such a confined, snag ridden space. I stood for twenty minutes at the front of the boat without sight of a tarpon and just as I was beginning to doubt that they would ever emerge a single fish came in to view. “Cast now” called Cheguy and I dropped the fly a few feet in front of the tarpon. The fish was on the fly in an instant and a few short strips saw the bucket sized mouth engulf the fly. I struck hard to set the hook in the tarpon’s tough, bony mouth and held on. The fish was unstoppable as it powered through the mangroves, winding the fly line around a succession of mangrove roots as it went. The tarpon then proceeded to leap high into the mangrove bushes in a desperate attempt to escape the fly. I had no choice but to forcibly drag the fish back in the direction it came. The fishing gods must have been smiling on me for somehow the fish re-emerged from the mangroves firmly attached to the fly line. Cheguy poled hard to pull the skiff in to open water where I could play the fish in relative safety. “You were lucky” stated Cheguy as he lifted the fish on to the skiff.

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The remainder of the day was spent searching a succession of beaches, lagoons and mangrove channels for tarpon. Cheguy put us on to good numbers of fish but our luck deserted us. Nigel was broken off by a fine fish and I had a pod of good sized fish chase the fly along a sandy beach but despite their best efforts they failed to take the fly properly. The last hour saw us deep in the mangroves prospecting blind alleys leading off a central lagoon. Nigel was extremely unlucky and missed six or more fish, which would have led him a merry dance if hooked. We drifted in to a large opening in the lagoon and I spied several large tails fluttering in the setting sun. These were large bonefish tailing over soft sand and I immediately reached for the 8wt. The fish were tailing some forty yards away and Cheguy suggested that we wade for them. There was one slight problem however. A saltwater croc was enjoying the warmth of the dying sun of to our left and this added a touch of spice to the proceedings as it watched our every move. Cheguy asked Nigel to stay in the boat and keep his eyes on the croc and to let us know immediately should it move. The bottom was fairly soft and each step saw my foot sink deep in to the sand, which would greatly slow any attempts to run back to the boat.

Guide carrying skiff pole to ward of croc in necessary!
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We crept with stealth towards the bonefish, not wishing to upset them nor their toothy partner. We were almost in casting distance of the bones when Nigel shouted that the croc had submerged. Time stood still for a few seconds before Nigel informed us that the beast had resurfaced and remained motionless. Cheguy selected a Bubba Shrimp as the fly to tempt the bones which tailed in front of us. These appeared to be larger than average fish and Cheguy estimated them to be in the 7 – 8lb range. The disturbance created by the fly hitting the water caused the fish to momentarily panic and swim around nervously. A few short twitches saw several fish lock on to the fly and in a silvery blur the fly line pulled tight as a ridiculously powerful fish launched in to a warp speed run. The fish ran towards me with the fly line lagging behind and making the most incredible ‘swooshing’ noise as it cut through the water. “That is a big bone” confirmed Cheguy. The fish then turned with a clear path to some mangroves roughly 80 meters away. The reel began to buzz like a chainsaw as the bonefish accelerated towards potential freedom. I quickly tightened the drag but the fish was completely unstoppable by now and we watched open mouthed as it ploughed at high speed into the bushes, instantly snapping the leader. On a positive note, the croc remained 40 meters away.
Day 3 – Permit Day. Today was a single skiff day in the company of Cachimba, a guide renowned for his love of permit, so the choice of species was simple. The skiff skimmed across a mirror like sea towards Cachimba’s ‘secret lagoon’ at high speed, delivering a refreshing breeze despite the hot, still morning air. We rigged up a 9wt rod with Cachimba’s favourite permit pattern a Green Flexo-Crab. Within minutes I could see a ‘v-shape’ approaching from the left some forty yards away. The fish struck towards us in around two feet of water and Cachimba quickly poled the skiff to intercept its path but the fish sensed our presence and veered out of casting range. This set the tone for the morning, with many fish sighted but mostly remaining tantalisingly out of range. When a permit did venture close enough to be covered I was afflicted by’permititis’, a condition where whatever can go wrong duly does so. Good shots were hampered by standing on the fly line, catching a mangrove on the back cast or a tangle developing when shooting the line. There were occasions when things did go to plan however, with the fly landing precisely where the guide dictated and this resulted in two determined follows and the agony of feeling a big fish hit the fly three times without nailing it. Strangely, instead of bringing dejection this near miss seemed to please Cachimba who was clearly happy that we had tempted a permit to take the fly.
As the day wore on and the tide rose our encounters with permit diminished. I could not help but notice groups of decent sized bonefish feeding by the mangroves as we searched the lagoon and Cachimba told me to cover them with the crab pattern if I needed some sport. The next group we encountered were grazing over a mixed bottom like sheep in a field. I dropped the crab pattern a couple of meters ahead of the flock and waited patiently for Cachimba’s instructions to begin the retrieve as the fish inched slowly towards the fly. “Strip fast” instructed Cachimba, “Faster, faster”. The crab was now moving at a fair old pace, much faster than a typical bonefish retrieve, with a group of fish in hot pursuit. Suddenly a fish shot forward to claim the fly and an epic tussle amongst the mangrove stands was underway. The fish went absolutely berserk, careering through as many snags as possible but a combination of holding the rod high, expert poling by Cachimba and a large dollop of luck saw the fish come to the skiff. This was a different but highly exciting form of bonefishing which delivered a further four fish to the boat during an afternoon of scintillating sport. The permit had eluded us but it was still another completely wonderful day.

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Dolphins lead the skiff home in the evening.
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We now travelled further west to re-join the Georgiana which had sailed to a new anchorage during the day, giving access to the Cayo Del Masio area for tomorrows fishing. That evening on the Georgiana we dined on delicious mahi mahi steaks accompanied by Cuban rice infused with shrimp washed down with Chilean Sauvignon blanc. Later, talk of permit woe fuelled by copious amounts of Havana Club lasted long into the night.
DAY 4 – Shared skiff day. I was teamed up with Nigel once more and our guide for the day was Head Guide Marcos, who suggested that we explore some far flung and rarely fished cayos in search of tarpon and barracuda. Nigel and I came suitably tooled for these species and I also brought an 8wt outfit in case we crossed paths with some bones. Once more we were blessed with a deep blue sky, fringed by a pearl necklace of small, puffy clouds on the horizon. We travelled at speed for more than thirty minutes to reach an area of individual mangrove islands, with no flats to be seen. The water appeared to be deep around the margins of each island we visited despite being low tide and we failed to find a single fish. Eventually we chanced upon a pair of large barracuda in an opening in the mangroves but the fish spooked almost farcically as Nigel’s needle fish pattern landed on the water. The other skiffs were also seen constantly travelling between islands, suggesting that the fishing was tough. Marcos decided to look for bones but the deep water surrounding the mangroves was unwilling to share its treasures and we retired for lunch slightly bemused. We dined on pork, rice, boiled eggs and delicious papaya under the shade of the mangroves as Marcos proposed a visit to a flat composed of pure white sand and a healthy population of bonefish just twenty minutes skiff ride distant.
The flats lay on one side of an archetypical desert island and were a place of stunning beauty. We anchored the boat and proceeded to wade bare foot over soft sand the colour of mountain snow. Six distinct groups of black shapes were clearly visible feeding over the white bottom and Marcos led Nigel towards the nearest shoal. These appeared to be small fish and my eyes were firmly fixed on a group of much larger fish feeding closer to shore. Within a few casts and short, slow strips Nigel brought the first bonefish of the day, a sparkling three pounder, to hand and I was next up. By good luck the shoal of larger fish were moving towards us and a twenty yard cast dropped the fly slightly ahead of the pack. The shoal immediately locked on to the fly and a race developed to claim the shrimp pattern. The winner hit the fly with conviction and confirmed its credentials as the Usain Bolt of fish by streaking through the shallows at insane speed while the fly reel rasped in protest. The flat was snag free with the exception of a small, beached tree with antler-like branches protruding above the aquamarine water. Naturally the bonefish made a bee line for this merest hint of salvation and a deathly silence descended as the fish made it to within two tail flicks of the branches before concerted side pressure steered the bone away from calamity. The fish provided a few more thundering runs before Marcos plucked it from the water and we could admire a gorgeous bone of 6lb, lightly coloured to match its surroundings. In the photograph below you can see the ‘tree’ behind my right shoulder in the distance.

Exploring the mangrove channels.
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Pristine white sand flat.
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Bonefish on the run.
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Usain’s antics while charging across the flats appeared to cause the shoals to vacate and we now turned our attention to a deep channel of blue water which skirted the flat. Dead drifting a shrimp with the occasional short strip provided me with some small jacks and two further bonefish while Nigel made contact with some feisty red snappers which were put on ice for the chef to cook.

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The day ended with Nigel narrowly failing to connect with a lemon shark in three feet of water. Nigel employed his Barracuda rod with steel trace and a needle fish pattern on the point. The fly appeared to sit too high in the water to tempt the shark until Nigel allowed it to drop towards the sea bed. Immediately the largest shark rushed forward and appeared to head butt the fly before turning to swallow it. Unfortunately, by the time Nigel managed to strike, the shark had already ejected the hook. Perhaps this was a good thing!
Back on the Georgiana it emerged that everyone had experienced a tough day and there was a collective cheer when the Head Guide announced that we would be returning to our original anchorage in the morning, giving access to the flats around Las Salinas. As we sipped on our rum that evening storm clouds were gathering on the horizon with lightning flashing every few seconds throughout the night.

Cold front skirts Zapata.
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DAY 5 – Bonefish day. I drew back the bedroom curtain covering the porthole to reveal a heavily clouded sky and flat, grey sea, by no means ideal for sighting bonefish on the flats. I had decided the previous evening to dedicate the entire day to bonefish on what was to be my final single skiff day. Marcos the Head Guide ran through the next day’s boat allocations following our meal yesterday evening and I was informed that I could choose between two guides with whom I had not yet had the pleasure to fish with. I asked which of the guides enjoyed bonefishing and Raidel raised his hand quick as a flash.
As I boarded the skiff Raidel explained that we would be travelling a fair distance to reach an amazing bonefish flat. In return, I explained to Raidel that I had never enjoyed a full day of bonefishing and I was keen to see how many we might catch. My record haul of seven fish had been set on the first afternoon in Zapata while wading with Espin. “OK” replied Raidel, “Our first target is eight bonefish”. We travelled a long way to the east, gliding over aquamarine flats and weaving amongst an endless horizon of picture postcard desert islands until finally arriving at the most stunning area of shallow, sandy flats imaginable.
No sooner had we arrived than the sun began to burn through the thin veil of cloud and the flats simply lit up. Raidel climbed on to the platform to pole us across the flats while I took up position at the bow, fly in hand and twenty yards of fly line laid carefully by my feet, ready for the first cast. With such excellent water clarity, strong sunshine and clean, uniform bottom even I could see bonefish from thirty to forty meters distant and within minutes the first victim, a solitary fish, approached the front of the skiff at 11 o’clock. “Place the fly one meter in front of the fish and one meter beyond it” instructed Raidel. The shrimp pattern landed close enough to gain the bonefish’s attention. The fish halted in its tracks as the fly descended through eight inches of water. “Strip” whispered Raidel, “Short and slow”. The fly had travelled only a few inches before the bonefish had closed in and was ready to strike. Just as I was waiting for the line to tighten Raidel unexpectedly told me to stop the retrieve. In the clear water I could see the fish hover above the motionless fly before raising its tail towards the surface and moving head down on the fly. “Strike now” instructed Raidel and the line pulled instantly tight as a fish of 4.5lb began a thundering 100m run through the shallows. With no snags present I could relax as the fish unleashed its raw power in a series of jaw dropping runs before surrendering to the boat. This was sight fishing of the highest order and to see the fish cock its body before sucking in the motionless fly was simply sublime.

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A relaxed shoal of bones swim past the skiff.
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We quickly reached a total of seven bonefish using the same approach, all single fish in the 4 – 5lb range before nerves seemed to set in. Two nice fish were lost before an exceptionally large bone snapped the leader by ploughing through a group of bare stems protruding from three inches of water at the end of a small island. Raidel selected a tan Gotcha with rubber legs as the replacement fly and the rod soon danced to the tune of a feisty bone once more. This fish straightened the hook! Raidel examined the fly before pronouncing it as “OK” and setting the hook back in shape using his teeth!! Thankfully, fish number eight arrived just on the stroke of lunch.

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Conditions after lunch were perfect and with the sun at its zenith and hardly a breath of wind to ruffle the calm surface the bonefish came thick and fast, all fine specimens with mirror-like, polished flanks which rendered the fish practically invisible in the water. By 2pm we had released fourteen fish and were closing in on our new target of fifteen bones. To make things interesting Raidel suggested that we anchor the boat and wade to catch the next fish. Quite incredibly, we walked the soft sand for the next two hours without seeing another fish and returned to the boat just as dark cloud snuffed out the sun. Even when perched on the poling platform Raidel could see no further than five meters from the skiff in the reduced light and suddenly fish number fifteen seemed a tough proposition. Raidel still managed to give me some decent shots at bones but this only resulted in two fish lost after a brief struggle. By 5pm it was almost dark, so thick was the cloud and Raidel informed me that he would pole a further 200m to reach a small island where the water would be sufficiently deep to start the outboard to start the journey home. I began to reel in the fly line to come down from the casting deck when Raidel told me to stay there, just in case. The skiff was just feet away from the island when Raidel shouted “Bones, 5 meters, nine o’clock”. I flicked the fly to my left and saw a pod of bones scatter in panic. “Strip, strip” encouraged Raidel as fish number fifteen nailed the fly.

Dramatic sunset over Zapata.
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Storing rods at night.
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DAY 6 – Shared skiff day .The legacy of a passing cold front saw the day dawn with angry skies of dark, brooding cloud. Once again my boat partner for the day was Nigel and our guide was Cheguy, who recommended a distant flat where we would fish for permit until the tide rose sufficiently to allow bonefish onto the flats. The skiff headed east across a perfectly still ocean towards a looming bank of black, menacing cloud. Cheguy had encountered large numbers of tailing permit the previous day and was keen to return to the same area of flats. Several groups of fish were immediately obvious on our arrival, leisurely tailing on the mirror like surface but they appeared highly nervous and despite Cheguy poling towards intended targets with the utmost stealth the fish remained annoyingly out with casting distance. For the next two hours we were privileged to witness ridiculous numbers of permit finning and tailing across a huge expanse of flats but equally frustrated by their guile. It was with some relief that Cheguy suggested moving to a bonefish flat now that the tide was on the rise.
As the anchor came to rest on snowy white sand in eight inches of water the Carribean sun punched a hole in the dark cloud and the sky quickly cleared to a hot, sunny day. The flats we were about to wade were beyond beautiful, enhanced only by the fluttering tails of bones feeding in the distance. Nigel elected to wade alone while Cheguy and I moved in on the tailing fish. Cheguy instructed me to drop the shrimp pattern within a meter of where the fish nosed through the sand and for once I managed to comply. The fish turned a full circle in the crystal clear water before pouncing on the fly like a cat on a mouse. The first sensational run took me well into the backing, much to Cheguy’s glee and we enjoyed several more high voltage runs before a cracking fish of 5lb finally surrendered.

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Wading for bonefish in such magnificent surroundings is probably as good as it gets and before long we were stalking our next victim. The next bonefish took the fly with gusto but following a brief struggle managed to throw the fly, as did the next two fish. At that point I remembered that the fly had been de-barbed yesterday to aid release as the fish were swallowing the fly deeply. Cheguy selected a leggy shrimp fly tied with a dubbed body of coyote mask from the box as a replacement. I could see the next fish approaching from thirty meters distant, moving slowly over the clean white bottom in search of food. We gave it some! The fly lay motionless on the sand, waiting for Cheguy’s instruction to begin the strip. With the fish just five feet from the fly I commenced a slow, short strip and watched spell bound as the bonefish appeared to shiver before zeroing in on its prey. “Stop” instructed Cheguy. Time itself seemed to stop for a moment and all was still. The water had no movement, the fly lay frozen on the sand and the fish sat motionless a few inches behind. “Strip” came the command and time instantly resumed with the bonefish striking the fly in a silvery blur. The reel sprang to life and the rod bucked in protest as the fish ran for the horizon. This felt a good, strong fish and it came as no surprise to find a sparkling bone of 6lb following a wonderful contest.

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Sadly, the next two fish connected with managed to throw the fly. Nigel re-joined us to say that he had suffered a similar fate, landing one nice bone but losing the next five. Cheguy said it was just ‘one of those days’.
The late afternoon was spent wading for permit in a mangrove fringed bay. Cheguy was especially keen to show us this area as it is often productive. The image which welcomed us will live long in my memory. Several groups of permit were feeding in eighteen inches of water over a mixed bottom of sand, rock and weed, their black sickle shaped tails and fins waving in the setting sun. These were plainly large fish and Cheguy steered Nigel towards the nearest group. The fish were moving right to left along the shore, feeding intently as they progressed. A fast wade was required to keep pace, while endeavouring to be silent at the same time. I decided to head directly for the far side of the bay to intercept the permit when they arrived, leaving Nigel to cover the advancing shoals. A ten minute wade put me in position and I watched intently as Nigel attempted to illicit a response from the fluctuating shoals while waiting. Eventually a group of around six fish came within easy casting distance. I probably had one cast and had to make it count. The flexo crab landed immediately in front of the pack and I allowed it to sink for a few seconds. “Strip slowly” I heard Cheguy shout from forty meters away, ever the guide. I moved the crab through the water in slow, eighteen inch strips and instantly the black fins stood to attention as three fish peeled off from the group to give chase. Two fish gave up the chase after a few yards, leaving one permit tailing the fly at close quarters. The angle of light and Bacardi clear water allowed me to observe the fish with total clarity as it gave pursuit. “Strike now” called Cheguy but I could clearly see that the fish remained six inches behind the fly. I was almost running out of fly line to retrieve when the permit turned away.
The day was concluded a few hundred meters from where the Georgiana was anchored where Nigel was keen to ‘blind cast’ for predators while drifting in eight feet of water. Nigel had employed the same tactic the previous evening and enjoyed a titanic struggle with a Cubera snapper before being broken off. Nigel’s efforts were rewarded with two fine Barracuda as the setting sun met a watery end.

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Returning to Georgiana for the last time.
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Chef prepares a cake for last night party.
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  #2  
Old 05-12-2017, 10:41 AM
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Default Re: Zapatan Bones

Fantastic fishing with an equally fantastic report - I enjoyed reading that, many thanks.
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Old 05-12-2017, 11:57 AM
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Default Re: Zapatan Bones

Wow sounds like an incredible trip. Thanks for sharing. Super read and pics
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Old 05-12-2017, 03:41 PM
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Default Re: Zapatan Bones

What a great report,looks a good place can't wait till I go next time.
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Old 05-12-2017, 04:02 PM
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Default Re: Zapatan Bones

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Originally Posted by blithfield2 View Post
Fantastic fishing with an equally fantastic report - I enjoyed reading that, many thanks.
My pleasure. Happy to share
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Old 05-12-2017, 08:34 PM
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Default Re: Zapatan Bones

Great report thanks! There really is nothing like it is there. Just wish these trips weren't so dampened expensive
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Old 05-12-2017, 09:19 PM
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Default Re: Zapatan Bones

Quote:
Originally Posted by timmy mullet View Post
Returning to Georgiana for the last time.
Well Timmy, now you know, now you know.
Will you go back?
Absolutely cracking report, and photo's. SUPERB!
Wish I could write up reports like that.
You know now why I keep banging on about the place!

regards
bert
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Old 05-12-2017, 09:19 PM
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Default Re: Zapatan Bones

How much does a trip like that cost you if you dont mind me asking ?
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Old 05-12-2017, 09:23 PM
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Originally Posted by rookstorm View Post
How much does a trip like that cost you if you dont mind me asking ?
Will be a tad dearer than your three weeks on north coast!

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bert
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Old 05-12-2017, 10:13 PM
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Default Re: Zapatan Bones

Quote:
Originally Posted by aenoon View Post
Well Timmy, now you know, now you know.
Will you go back?
Absolutely cracking report, and photo's. SUPERB!
Wish I could write up reports like that.
You know now why I keep banging on about the place!

regards
bert
Absolutely Bert, at the drop of a sombrero. What a fantastic place with bones to match. Kicking myself for not picking up a permit as there were loads around and I feel like I let the guides down there but the bones more than made up for it. I'm glad you enjoyed the read and photos. I'm determined I'll be back

---------- Post added at 03:13 PM ---------- Previous post was at 03:10 PM ----------

Quote:
Originally Posted by rookstorm View Post
How much does a trip like that cost you if you dont mind me asking ?
Bert's probably right! Not much change out of 4k for a trip like that but if you are looking for the trip of a lifetime......
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