Bailout – maritime in origin, it’s the act of removing water from a sinking vessel….usually with a small bucket.
Bailing Out With Bonefish
Every fly fisherman knows frustration when not able to find, feed or land their target species. But, to fishing guides – being compensated for their expertise – wind, clouds, murky water or a lack of interest are merely excuses.
Key West’s annual tarpon migration attracts a flood of anglers anxious to test their skills on one of the world’s top gamefish. At the height of the season, these silver sided, air breathing monsters flow down the beaches in schools often a mile long. Although an awesome sight for anyone with rod in hand, if the wind is wrong, the tarpon develop lockjaw.
On those days a Key’s guide may turn to barracuda as a bail out fish. Although exciting when hooked, jumping, snapping and armed with dangerous incisors, a ten pound cuda is not a hundred pound tarpon.
Capt. Grizz pursues marlin on fly – his territory, Cabo San Lucas Mexico. Twelve weight rods and a “tease them up and toss” technique is his preferred method for stripped, black, blue marlin and sailfish.
“Veteran captains know when it is not going to happen.” He says. “On those days we’ll head inshore for rooster fish or cero mackerel. We’ll downsize the tackle and bend a rod. It can turn the day around.”
Bailing out it’s called and every charter captain and guide has a plan. When the targeted species can’t be found or won’t co-operate, switch.
“Jardines de la Renia”- “Gardens of the Queen” is reverently referred to as the most natural reef and flats ecosystem existing in the Caribbean today. Cuba’s oldest aquatic preserve was a favorite spearfishing site for Fidel Castro, a fact, along with geography – it lies sixty miles off the island’s south coast – that has allowed it to lay virtually untouched by man.
This collection of uninhabited barrier Keys separates the shallow bay of Gulfo de Ana Maria from the rich blue waters of the Caribbean. Beyond the deserted white sand beaches and the pristine coral reefs, the ocean bottom drops to infinity.
My new friend Alek Rich first called it to my attention in the middle of our second day of fly fishing in the Gardens.
“See how he keeps taking us back to bonefish.” He said quietly. “Every time the fishing slows, we go back to catching bones.”
Alek and our Avalon fishing guide Tony are at the same stage of life, early twenties. Although separated by language, these two young men from totally diverse backgrounds and experiences found a bond in the shared love of fishing….the report was instant.
Alek recently graduated from Tulane with a degree in finance and has begun his banking career in Texas.
Tony just completed the two year training program required by all Avalon guides and now poles fly clients from across the globe over the pristine flats of the Gardens.
Both are smart, observant, and anxious to make a mark in their chosen fields.
Awed by the raw beauty of our surroundings, the young man from Texas had been justifiably distracted. Then, this beginning banker’s analytical training emerged as he began to decipher Tony’s pattern.
Sure enough, when I paid attention the method to our guide’s madness took shape.
Bonefish in muds, in the mangroves and atop the grass covered flats seem readily available throughout the day. When the tarpon became mid-day scarce, or the tide stage was unfavorable for permit, Tony had a bonefish spot just around the bend.
“All guides have a limit to how long they will go not catching fish.” I explained to Alek one afternoon. “And, they all have a bailout plan.”
“It’s just bazaar.” Alek countered. “The guides are using one of the most sot after fly targets in the world to break the boredom…..to bailout.”
We were sipping mojitos mixed and delivered to the rear deck of our mothership “Tortuga” by Milkis, Avalon’s beautiful blond bartender. Avalon Fishing Center is the exclusive angling company of the Gardens. Shaded from the brutal mid-August sun, we chatted with others of our group from as far away as Finland about our new discovery.
Chris and son Mike, from Boulder, Colorado added they had stayed with the bones one full morning, releasing over thirty before breaking off for an afternoon dive. “We first caught them in muds.” Mike said. “But when the tide got high we found them in the mangroves, fining and tailing.
Walt from Sarasota, Florida added the fish were well above the size of the vast schools he’s fished in Mexico. “We had them pretty much at will there too.” He offered. “But, they weren’t nearly the size of these.”
Whether this steady stream of bonefish can be counted on year round is an unknown to our group. But, it suffices to say that in August of 2015, sixty miles off the south coast of Cuba, bailing out with bonefish was the plan.