Cuban Time Warp

Sometimes, a once in a lifetime opportunity comes your way and you just have to jump on it. When I received an email from Albemarle Angler about some upcoming hosted trips, it was sheerly by chance that I clicked the link to read more about one. At this point, I don’t even remember what the trip was, because I very quickly got distracted by something that was way cooler. A legal week long trip to Cuba for bonefish, permit, and tarpon. To a virgin fishery. Before Americans are generally allowed to go Cuba. I called up Scott (he’s guided me a couple times before for smallmouth bass on the Shenandoah) to ask a couple questions. It didn’t take much before I was booked. Only 9 months on the calendar until it was trip time.

The preparation phase of this trip was probably the worst. I had done one day of fishing for tarpon on the flats, but other than that, never before done any sort of tropical fly fishing. I was no stranger to the flats targeting redfish, but this was a different beast. Other than pictures, I had never even seen a bonefish or permit before this trip. I had no idea what to expect, what flies to tie, or how much gear I really needed to buy (OK, buying the gear was fun). Luckily, Scott and crew were always a phone call away to make sure I came all set up, well stocked, and well prepared. Note: as good as they are, they can’t force you to remember to pack that rain jacket. Brrrr.

20160220_125946Finally, it came time to get on the plane to Cuba. Well, to Canada first, since we still don’t have commercial flights. My excitement really started building as we’re approaching the Cayo Cruz airport. You could see incredible expanses of flats everywhere. Wetting a line was only a day away, but felt like it was still an eternity.To be honest, I wasn’t even sure I was going to make it on the trip. I got a lovely diagnosis of the flu four days before I was supposed to leave. Luckily, that tamiflu stuff is a beast.

We landed, hopped in a couple taxis, and made the two hour drive to the lodge. It quickly became quite obvious that we were not in a place we were used to. There were very few cars – although there were far more new cars than I was expecting mixed in with the classics. Sugar cane fields were absolutely everywhere. And the main mode of transportation for people was donkey carts.  Upon arrival to the lodge, we were warmly greeted by the staff and were quickly fed some mojitos. After dinner, we did introductions, met the guides, and planned out the following day. The fishing area is broken out into 6 zones. Generally, they only have one boat operating in each zone, although they’re big enough that you could never run into each other if you share a zone.

OK, well this one wasn't my first, but close enough!

OK, well this one wasn’t my first, but close enough!

The marina was about a 30 km drive from the lodge, which took a little over an hour due to the terrible roads. We got to the marina early the first day to rig up our rods, then hopped in our boats and went off. This is where my forgotten rain jacket would’ve come in handy. The boat spray and the downpour we had in the first hour made for a chilly morning. The first day, I fished with Carson, the owner of Albemarle Angler and co-host of the trip, and our guide Nelson. Carson knew I had never caught a bonefish before and wanted to get some footage of my first. We waded a massive lagoon (it took us over 6 hours to fish half of it), so I had Nelson and Carson’s eyes helping me look for my first bone. It took a while, but we finally found a school of about 10 bonefish swimming right at me. I dropped my Gotcha into the fray and had one bite, but I couldn’t connect. I kept stripping, got another strike, but couldn’t connect again. A quick recast and I got tight. The bonefish took off screaming, but my Hatch Finatic 7 Plus was no match for slowing it down. Before long, my first ever bonefish was in hand.

After the rush of my first, Carson started fishing on his own as well. It was tough conditions with a cold front having come through and lots of clouds. That didn’t stop the fish, nor stop us from catching them. Carson and I combined for 22 bonefish to the hand by the end of the day – 13 for him and 9 for me. I got one barracuda, which was a blast, and had a lemon shark eat about 10 feet from me, but he broke me off 10 seconds later.

As the week progressed, conditions got better and better. On my second day, I finally got a shot at a permit. I dropped the fly in front of the fish, and heard the guide yell “Strip! Strip! Strip! SET THE HOOK!” A long pull with my left hand and…. I pulled up two feet of slack and watched the permit spook away. Whoops.

There was something about me and my boat that seemed to attract permit. I had by far the most shots at permit, delivering the fly to around 20 fish. I only got two fish to eat – that first one, and the very last one I saw – but couldn’t come tight to either. One of the other guys had a bonefish steal the fly out of a permit’s mouth. But, that was the closest anyone got to catching one that week. It was tough conditions all week for permit and not prime time, but we still go in our shots.

Toward the end of the week, we had a glass-calm morning. The guide said we were starting out looking for tarpon. With the calm weather, we had a good chance at finding some of the resident tarpon rolling. We saw the first roller only a couple minutes after getting to the flat. We pulled up, the guide pointed a fish out, and I dropped in the fly. A fish ate, but I only stung his lip. Next cast, another eat, but I set too soon and pulled it out of his mouth. Nothing on my third cast. Fourth cast brought a mangrove snapper to hand. My fifth cast turned out another eat. I yanked on the line and got solid contact. The guide starts telling me to set the hook again. The tarpon started running directly at me and past the boat. As I’m trying to keep from getting slack, let alone another attempt at a hook set, I get jumped. I turned over the bow to my boatmate after that, but we couldn’t get another shot. Carson ended up landing one the next day.

Barracuda stichedOf all the fish I caught the whole trip, my favorite by far was barracuda. I caught two on the trip, with the second being a pretty hefty specimen. These fish will take 100 yards of backing in about 10 seconds. Apparently, most jump, although I only had my second one jump. He was a feisty one. Once hooked, he started jumping and tailwalking as if he was a sailfish. With each jump, he’d easily clear 40 feet of water before going back to swimming rather than flying.

IMG_2714There were quite a few unique things about the Cuban fishing. First, these bonefish are stupid. You can completely miss your cast, even dropping it 5 feet behind the fish, and it’ll come back and destroy your fly. You can get a bad hookset, pop the fly out, and it’ll pick up the fly again. Even with a couple cold fronts coming through and less than ideal conditions, bonefish were always fairly plentiful. Over the week, I caught about 30, despite focusing on permit several days. The flats are quite unique as well. There are more than a few areas where the flats go on as far as you can see. Some are easily over a square mile. While I have no comparison since this is my first trip, I was told some individual flats are bigger than all of Ascension Bay. Lastly, no matter what flat you’re on, you always have a chance at seeing a permit. In fact, there wasn’t a day where either I or my boatmate didn’t see a permit. Because of that, more often than not, I wound up throwing my 10 weight Helios 2 just in case we ran into a permit. But, that didn’t stop the bonefish from putting up one heck of a fight. Many would take us well into our backing. While the fish weren’t necessarily too long compared to other destinations, they were far fatter. The average fish was 4-5 pounds, with quite a few hitting the 10 pound mark.

So far, the Cuban fishery has been amazing. Hopefully, it will stay that way. Luckily, the Cubans are very proud of their environmental resources and actively try to protect it. However, as things begin opening up with the US, who knows what will happen. Surely, it will get way more expensive. If you want to go, make some moves quick. Albemarle Angler is hosting another trip to Cuba in December 2016. I highly recommend getting in before things start to change!

October Redfish

“This one’s only a baby!”

How many times have you been able to say that in all honesty while fighting a 12 lb redfish? Well, hitting the marshes of Louisiana during October, you can. I joined Captain Greg Moon of Louisiana Fly Fishing Charters for a 4-day trip to the marshes during some prime October fishing. As luck seems to have it with me, weather would not be friendly for the whole trip. A front moving after the first night in was predicted to whip up winds too strong to fish, so we had to make the good weather on day 1 count since it looked like it would be the only day I’d get to fish.

Fish on the flats

Look carefully at this picture. Every light marking in the water is a fish. This particular school was heavy on the black drum, but had plenty of redfish mixed in as well.

This time of year, the fish school up like crazy. And I’m not talking like in South Carolina where you’re getting schools of 5 pound fish. I’m talking about the big boys and girls. Your average fish is in the twenty pound range. Acres of fish, too. Some schools, like the one pictured, were heavy in black drum, but still had plenty of redfish mixed in. Others schools were predominantly redfish. The schools had one thing in common though – they were HUGE. Acres of fish.

Redfish on the MarshThroughout the day, we stopped counting the fish I caught, but it was somewhere in the ballpark of 20-25 redfish and two black drum. I only caught two fish all day under 20 lbs. The average fish was in the mid 20-lb range, with a few creeping close to 30 pounds. There were definitely some 30+ pound fish in the schools, but I missed my shot on them or had a smaller one take it away. Towards the end of the day, I even stopped casting to fish that didn’t have a shot at going 30+. To put it bluntly, this was the single best day of fishing I have ever had in my life. I know if the weather would have held, I would’ve found my 30 lb fish over the next several days. Look below for the rest of the pictures from the day!

Ready to book? Good luck! October dates book up WELL in advance. In fact, Greg already has all of October and most of November 2016 booked already, so check out 2017. Don’t fear, though – the entire year has fantastic fishing! Give Greg a call at (702) 497-1673. Additional contact information is on his website. Don’t forget to check out his photo gallery for some seriously amazing pictures of fish his clients have put in the boat. Half day trips run $475 for up to 2 people, and full day trips go for $600. Once you go, come back and leave a review!

Big school of redfish

Big school of redfish

Beautiful shot of a tail on the release

Beautiful shot of a tail on the release

Nice action shot

Nice action shot

Black drum on the fly

Black drum

Redfish on the fly

One of many redfish

Redfish release

Redfish release

Redfish on the fly Redfish on the fly

The Ghosts of Redfish Past

Ever since my first trip down to Louisiana to fly fish for some of the giant redfish, I haven’t been able to get those pigs out of my mind. I think redfish, sleep redfish, and, well, eat redfish. Luckily, I get down to New Orleans quite a bit and always try to tack a day of fishing onto my trip. But just one day was never enough. Getting great weather on any one single day isn’t a guarantee, and even if it is great, the day goes by WAY too fast. So, I booked a three day trip back down to the marsh with Captain Greg Moon of Louisiana Fly Fishing Charters.

As it turns out, three days isn’t enough either. I booked this past weekend almost one year ago. September and October is historically some of the best weather and fishing conditions you can get, so those months are often 100% booked six months or more out. The best tide days can book more than a year in advance. Of course, booking that far in advance, you have no idea what the weather will be like and if you’ll have seasonally unusual conditions. It didn’t cooperate.

Day 1

The forecast called for high winds and an 80% chance of afternoon thunderstorms. To top it off, the marsh had been dealing with high water conditions for almost the entire month of September. Nonetheless, Greg said we’d be able to get out there.

Morning time came, and we hit the launch, greeted by the predicted high winds and overcast skies. We ran out to where Greg thought the water would be the cleanest and we’d have a little protection from the wind. Not too long after we get out there, we see some fish working, but I couldn’t deliver the casts. Battling the wind and low visibility from the cloud cover made fishing a challenge. A few giants came and went, ignoring my inaccurate casts.

Greg finds me a medium sized fish that was eating and happy, and I finally deliver a decent cast that the fish sees. It chases down the fly as I’m stripping it back to the boat. Just as the fish lunges to eat, I snag a small piece of marsh grass, tricking me into thinking that was the strike. I strip set, only to realize I hadn’t connected and simply pulled away the fly from the fish.

Close to noon, we see a tail waving at us from 100 yards away. We both knew this fish was a monster. We worked the boat closer and closer, Greg doing everything he could to keep the boat on the flats in 20-plus knot wind. The tail looked to be the size of a dinner plate. I got the line ready as we slid into position. This fish was as happy as could be. I knew if I can drop the fly in the right spot, I’ll be battling a 35 pound redfish.

I double haul and shoot the line out. The wind carries my fly about 4 feet left. I pick up and cast again with the same result. One more pick up, but I compensate for the wind this time. I drop the fly, and the wind dies, leaving my fly 4 feet right. One more pick up and lay down, and the tail disappears. I blew it.

We stayed out another 20 minutes or so as the wind kept picking up even more. Finally, we had to call it a day. Casting was near impossible, and holding the boat in position was even more of a chore. The giants evaded me today, but I still had two more days.

Day Two

I wake up at 5 AM to get ready. Ten minutes later, I see my phone light up from Greg. It’s the dreaded call. Winds are even crazier, and water levels are a foot higher than the already high water levels. Rain was certain, too. Greg said he’d take me out if I wanted, but recommended we save up for tomorrow. While you never want to lose a day fishing on your trip, it’s a sign of a great and ethical guide to not take you for an expensive boat ride in crappy conditions with little chance to catch fish.

I hit the hay for a few extra hours of sleep before waking up, watching some football, and grabbing a couple beers and raw oysters.

Day Three

My last day on the marsh was shaping up to be a little better. The forecast called for the clouds to clear and the winds to lay down. We couldn’t shake the high water though. No one is really sure why the water won’t fall. According to the local guides, the only time you see water levels like that is right after a storm – which they didn’t have. But, we were still going to make the best of it.

The morning started off with a few clouds and still a pretty good breeze, but definitely fishable weather. With the high water, fish were more spread out with more places to find food. Most of the fish were laid up on the bottom. Since the water wasn’t gin-clear yet, the low light made it tough to spot most of them until you’re on top of them. My sweet spot for casting on the mark is 30-50 feet – we were getting 10 foot shots at best. I’m not sure if you’ve ever tried casting an weighted fly accurately with little more than a leader, but it is not easy.

I get a shot at a 20 pound fish. Stripping the fly, I can tell it was just far enough outside the fish’s strike zone for it to ignore it. Out of nowhere, a decent slot redfish nails the fly. I put it in the boat, happy to have the skunk off my back for the trip.

The clouds finally start to part, giving us some much needed light. It was still tough seeing some of the laid up fish, but at least we had more shots from more reasonable distances.

We still hadn’t gotten the giant I was hunting. Greg found me another, but I just never saw the fish. It’s pretty amazing how a 40 inch fish can be completely invisible to someone 30 feet away. I put several more slots in the boat over the rest of the day, but that would be last giant fish we’d have any opportunity to catch. One more bull made an appearance, but disappeared before we were in casting distance.

Even though I didn’t get the trophy I was after, I still had a blast. The weather didn’t particularly cooperate, but that’s part of fishing. The difference between a good and great guide is in how he handles the situation. With the high water and tough weather, many guides would either call it, or give up before the day even started. Greg dealt with what he could control – reading the conditions, finding the fish, and positioning the boat for me to get a shot – in the best way possible and gave me as many opportunities to catch a fish as possible. I have learned my lesson though. Next year, I’m doing four days.

If you want to fly fish for some trophy redfish on the fly rod, there’s no better place than the marshes of Louisiana. If you go, look up Greg Moon and let him know we sent you. After you go, come back and leave a review for Louisiana Fly Fishing Charters!

Redfish on the Biloxi Marsh

Back in September, I tried to go out for some redfish on the flats of the Biloxi Marsh, but the weather conspired against me. Luckily, I found myself needing to get back down to New Orleans for a wedding, so I called up Captain Greg Moon of Louisiana Fly Fishing Charters to get me back out on the water. The perfect timing of the wedding got my Christmas vacation started a little early with a flight down to the Crescent City on Wednesday night just in time to grab a fantastic po’boy from Tracey’s before resting up for my Thursday excursion. The excitement of targeting this bull redfish was already building, and sleep did not come easily.

Captain Greg picked me up from the hotel early on Thursday. Even though my hotel was right on Canal St., I’m not sure how he managed to navigate that trailer through the old city streets. We headed southeast towards the launch, stopping at Penny’s Cafe for a hearty breakfast and to pick up some sandwiches for lunch. I had one of the best ham and cheese omelettes my taste buds have ever had the chance to savor. This was starting off to be a great trip.

We got down to the boat ramp, and Greg pushed us off and started motoring through the bayou. Despite the relatively warm forecast temperatures, I was glad I made the last second decision to pack my Under Amour and sweatshirt. We pulled off to our starting point, and Greg readied the fly rod. Since this was my first time on the flats for reds, he explained what I’d be looking for, what he’d be doing to get me in the right position, and how I’d need to present the fly and set the hook. We weren’t going for slot reds, so this trip would be all strip sets as if we’re targeting tarpon. I stepped up to the casting platform and readied my line. Greg had barely finished the instructions before I look down and see a giant redfish maybe 10 feet off the boat. Unfortunately, this one was too close to really do anything with, and it swam off to the horizon.

A few minutes later, I spot another redfish. Like the first, this one looked enormous – or in Greg’s words, a “donkey.” I laid down a perfect cast, and Greg says, “Strip! Strip!” The bull turned on the fly and inhaled it! In the moment of excitement, I lifted the tip and the rod bent in half. The weight of the fish became quickly apparent, then suddenly, everything went quiet. There was no longer a brick on the end of the line, and no longer a bend in the rod. Remember when I said the fly would need to be strip set? Well I didn’t. The trout-strike just didn’t have enough power behind it to drive the hook point into the tough mouth of the redfish, and it popped the hook out of its mouth. I hope I don’t make that mistake again.

What looked like it was a beautiful day to my untrained eye turned out to be actually somewhat challenging conditions. The past several days had seen nearly perfect conditions – light prevailing winds, bluebird skies, and lots of hungry fish. For my trip, a new weather system came through, bringing moisture in from the gulf. We had some clouds come through, plus slightly hazy skies – which makes it incredibly difficult to see fish. The wind changed from the prevailing northerly direction to coming in from the south, which made water levels change. A full moon likely had the fish feeding all night. All these conditions combined for finicky, spooky, difficult to see fish. Luckily, I had Greg on the push pole.

We kept getting stifled by the spooky fish, or by the time we could even see them, the boat would be on top of them. Greg moved us on to another flat and set up the drift. Shortly thereafter, Greg spots a big “floater” – which is just like what it sounds. The redfish looked like on the surface. “9 o’clock!” he calls out. I peer off the side of the boat, but just can’t pick it up. Greg starts feeding me more location details as I start up a cast blindly. “Give me 30 feet, 9 o’clock! It’s the it’s orange blob!” I still can’t pick it up the fish, but could manage to hook myself mid-cast. Of course, as soon as I do that, I see the bright, jack-o-lantern-like redfish glowing on the surface. It’s simply astounding that I couldn’t find it in the water to begin with, but that’s what comes with experience and bow time for this type of fish. All was not lost, though, Greg kept a bead on the fish while I untangled myself. Sure enough, it disappeared from my sight again somehow. Greg kept trying to give me directions on the fish as it swam off out of reach and permanently out of sight. I guess all was lost on that fish.

Despite my screw-ups, Greg wasn’t deterred. He moved us to another flat, and sure enough he found the fish one more time. This time, every direction we looked, we had some donkeys swimming around us. I cast at one, but it spooked. Greg saw one he wanted me to target and called it out. Once again, I couldn’t find the fish. I cast blindly in the direction Greg was telling me. I somehow managed the right distance, and managed to get it pretty close to the fish. “Pick up and go a few feet left,” Greg instructed. “Strip, strip, strip!” I managed to pick up the fish at this point. Suddenly, I felt the resistance on the end of the line. My instincts still started the lift of the rod, but I corrected myself halfway through and gave the line a good, strong tug.

This time, the hook stuck. The fish took off, immediately cleared the line from the deck, and started peeling off backing. Between my hoots and hollers, you couldn’t wipe that grin off my face. I’d reel in a little line, and lose a little more. I started gaining some ground, finally getting all the backing back on the reel. The redfish must have sensed this and made another blistering run. Greg explained how to “put the wood to the fish” so we didn’t unnecessarily prolong the fight. Sure enough, it worked, and the fish gave up the good fight.

29 pound Redfish

29 pound redfish with Captain Greg Moon of Louisiana Fly Fishing Charters

Greg dipped the net and got the fish. My first redfish on the fly was successfully put in the boat. Always prepared, Greg pulled out his big camera, positioned me with the fish, and snapped away masterful a few masterful photos. That’s right – not only can the man put a first-timer on a big fish, he can take a damn good picture of it too. After the photo session, it weighed in at 29 pounds on the bogagrip before he had me release it to swim another day.

I had another shot or two at fish the rest of the day. Despite a couple well placed casts, we could only drum interest up from the fish instead of another bite. With the lighting challenges being difficult enough, the sun began falling lower in the sky making sight fishing near impossible. We called it a day – a fantastic one at that.

If you’re itching for some of the best redfish fishing in the world, you really can’t beat Louisiana. Combining that with a trip to such an incredible city like New Orleans, and I’m hard pressed to come up with a better vacation. When you go, I highly recommend looking up Captain Greg Moon. Everyone knows the “best” guide for an area, but few that make those claims actually have fished with more than one or two – so I can’t tell you if Greg is the best. What I can tell you is that Greg will work his butt off to put you on a fish. He’s a guide that knows the area extremely well, knows how the fish will react and respond to different weather situations, and knows how to coach his clients. Whether you are a seasoned pro or it’s your first time on the flats, Greg will give you a fantastic chance at putting a bull redfish in the boat.

Ready to book? Give Greg a call at (702) 497-1673. Additional contact information is on his website. Don’t forget to check out his photo gallery for some seriously amazing pictures of fish his clients have put in the boat. Half day trips run $450 for up to 2 people, and full day trips go for $600. Once you go, come back and leave a review!

2 Days of Islamorada Tarpon Fly Fishing with Randy Stallings

Over Memorial Day, I did two days of tarpon fishing on the fly with Captain Randy Stallings. My trip got off to a pretty rough start. Storms rolled through the east coast, and I was faced with severe delays. After several hours of sitting at the airport and wondering if my flight was even going to take off, I finally heard those magic words: “We’re now boarding the flight to Miami.” We touched down a little after 1 AM, and by the time I grabbed my rental car, drove to Islamorada, and checked in to my hotel, I was getting to sleep a little after 3 AM.

Islamorada Flays

After a brief nap, I met Captain Randy at 7 AM at the docks. He was all loaded up and ready to go, so I hopped aboard his 18′ Hell’s Bay flats skiff, and we headed out to the fishing grounds. Although I’ve read as much as I could find about tarpon fishing, this was my first time out of the flats, so I had no idea what to actually expect. It was an absolutely beautiful day. Calm seas, clear water, and blue skies. A short trip to the flats and Randy cuts the motor and breaks out the flats pole. I immediately look straight down off the side of the boat and see two giant tarpon just cruising right past us. I’m blown away by the size and stealth of these fish. Randy tells me those 80-100 lb fish I just saw are about normal size. My adrenaline starts pumping, and I can’t wait to get in on the action.

Randy grabbed a rod, and gives me a quick demo on using the stripping basket and the proper retrieve. He hands me over the rod, and I toss out the line to get it laid out nicely in the stripping basket. We’re ready to go. Randy starts scanning the water from his platform and calls out “We’ve got a line coming in, about 1 o’clock!” I get ready to cast, wait for Randy’s go ahead, and start double hauling. I lay down my third false cast, and shoot the line at the fish. My fly laid down about thirty feet wide and ten feet short. Woah. Let’s chalk that up to high adrenaline throwing me off. I quickly pick back up and toss a mildly better second cast. A bit long this time, but at least a little on target. I strip in the fly, but don’t get so much of a mention. I didn’t really have a third shot at this line of tarpon. Randy spots a second line and gets us in position. I managed a bit more accuracy this time, but still overshot and spooked the line. I could already feel the lack of sleep starting to hit me, and slinging around a 12 weight was no easy task when all I wanted to do was take a nap.

The fish were running pretty good, but my casting just wasn’t up to par. About the 7th or 8th line of fish in, I finally laid down a perfect cast. I start stripping in and a tarpon breaks for my fly. He followed it about 10 feet before quickly spinning back around and joining back up with his school. No luck that time. Off to find the next fish.

Thinking of the boat as a clock face becomes incredibly more challenging as you get more tired. I can’t tell you how many times Randy would call out “3 O’Clock” and I’d look left, prompting a “Your other 3 O’Clock!” The day continued on, and while I did get a few follows, most of my casts were just poorly placed. I’d either lead the fish too much, throw way too short, or throw over the fish and spook the school. Randy did his best to work around my challenges. He got me as close as he could to the fish and even switched me over to a 10-wt rod with a clear line to help keep the fish from getting spooked if (when) I overshot the line. Even still, I could hear the frustration in Randy’s voice as I cast off target time and time again. I understand that it can be frustrating as a guide to work your butt off to get your client in perfect position over and over, only to have them completely miss so many shots, but I still would’ve hoped for a little more patience. After all, the client is the customer.

The day was wearing on, and I had yet to stick a silver king. I’m beginning to think I’m going to come up empty handed. Randy calls out that a line is coming straight at us from 12 o’clock. “Just toss it straight ahead!” That’s my wheelhouse right there. Straight line, no worrying about getting down the right distance to lead the fish – just straight down the pike and retrieve. I lay out the cast and start stripping in the fly. I see one heading right for my line. My heart begins racing and I loose track of where the fly is in the water! I’m still watching the fish, then I hear Randy call out “Holy sh*t he ate it!” At the same time, I felt my line go tight on my retrieve and I strip strike the fish like my life depends on it. IT SET! The fish was stuck, and luckily for me, didn’t go skyward and throw the hook immediately.

The battle is on. The reel is screaming as the fish pulls off line at will. Within seconds, I’m into the backing. The prehistoric beast starts dancing on the surface. Randy happily reminds me to bow to the fish as he jumps. I remember on jump number two. We’re still hooked up. He already has about 100 yards of backing out. Every maybe thirty seconds, I get an opportunity to reel in some line, but for every ten feet I get back, he takes out 50 more. Another jump, another bow, and the fish is still hooked. This is the biggest fish I’ve ever caught or even hooked on a fly rod, and the battle was unlike anything I’ve experienced.

We’re close to five minutes into the battle and the fish leaps skyward one more time. I bow, but then the dreaded feeling comes over me. A sudden slack in the line. I reel quickly in hopes the fish was just running at me, but I soon come to the realization it’s gone. I bring in the line with an ear-to-ear grin despite losing my first tarpon. It was an incredible experience. I finally get the line reeled up and go to inspect the fly, only to realize it isn’t there. The loop we used to tie on the fly was severed. Our only guess is it somehow got caught up in the eye of the hook and the sharp metal cut it free. As it was pretty late, we took a few more shots – no follows – before calling it a day. I grabbed a quick dinner at one of the local restaurants and headed back to my hotel to catch up on sleep.

We headed back out on day 2. I felt well rested (finally!) and was looking forward to getting another shot at one of these monsters. It was fairly clear again, but an onshore wind picked up. Luckily, my casting ability came back now that I wasn’t about to nap on the boat. The first shot I had was perfect, but no interest. That morning, a missed shot was the rarity rather than the norm. I had several great follows that we were sure were going to take the fly, but we could just never coax the fish to inhale. The wind started blowing even harder, casting became more and more challenging, and one by one, the other boats started leaving the flats. A little after noon, and casting became almost impossible with the wind. Randy offered to end the day early and call it a half day. I appreciated Randy offering that rather than keeping me out there to “run up the tab,” particularly because we both knew it was extremely unlikely to get another shot at the fish.

I enjoyed going out with Randy. He was easy to talk with, and REALLY knew his tarpon fishing and how to give someone the best possible chance to hook up. If you’re experienced on the flats, I wouldn’t hesitate to give Randy a call. I have no question you’ll put up some great numbers with him. If you’re a flats fishing newbie, though, you might be wise to save Randy for your second or third trip.

Ready to book with Captain Randy Stallings? Captain Randy can be reached by email at info@randystallings.com or by phone at (305) 587-0307 or (305) 453-9854. Rates start at $400 for a 4-hour half day trip.