Friday, May 4, 2007
Thursday, May 3, 2007
15 miles off the SouthWest Coast of Andros, near Miller Creek, Tuesday, May 1, 10pm.
15 miles off the SouthWest Coast of Andros, near Miller Creek, Tuesday, May 1, 10pm.
Tuesday morning had all of the promise of a new bride. After a pre-dawn double-shot coffee, two bananas, and a heavy coating of SPF 50 on all exposed parts, the skiffs were loaded with fuel and fishing gear. The game plan included morning exploration of the extensive flats on the west side of the Water Cays, midday fishing on the western flats and then an afternoon rendezvous with the Ocean Princess. This was a particularly ambitious plan since, due to draft constraints of the Ocean Princess, the rendezvous was to take place at a GPS coordinate 12 miles out into the Great Bahama Bank.
The flats on the east side of the Water Keys get really skinny at low water, too low in fact for our Carolina Skiff, Poule d'Eaux, that can usually float in only 4 inches of water. The "usually" part refers to the normal state of affairs with both transom plugs in. Tuesday simply refused to be usual and so as in many great fishing trips it started out badly. Within 20 minutes of leaving the Ocean Princess, we were stuck on a hard marl flat with more water in Poule d'Eaux than on the flat and so we had to get out and push. Except for the embarrassment of two old salts getting stuck high and dry, our misfortune quickly turned to fortune, for as soon as we got down to water level to push, we could see tailing fish 300 yards ahead. The hard marl made for easy wading and minutes later, Eric was hooked up. But all things must pass and after 20 minutes the bones moved off the flat and so did we.
For the next hour we toured the Water Cays scoping out fishing options. This is an incredibly beautiful place. The southern cays are lined by long white sand beaches and are separated by serpentine turquoise channels. This would be a great place to take non-fishermen for an afternoon of beachcombing. As we moved around from the south to the west, the topography changed dramatically. The flats on the eastern side had been marl, on the southern side sand, and now on the western side were soft mud. Although these western flats were pocked up like a moonscape from eons of bonefish mudding, we only found a few fish and caught none.. Timing, we figured, was everything and perhaps we should have been there yesterday. Because the western flats were too soft to wade and held too few fish that day to hold our interest, we began looking for alternatives. What would it take to entertain 2 bored, hot, and hungry fifty-somethings stuck in perpetual adolescence? Answer: a blue hole.
At first glance from 200 yards away it looked like a round cloud shadow on the background light green of the sand and mud flat. However as we floated closer, it was clear that we had accidentally wandered over one of the Bahamas famous blue holes. Measuring over 100 yards across, the Water Cays blue hole is one of the largest we’ve ever seen. It was clear that this was the deepest piece of water for miles in any direction and that that meant it was a unique ecosystem – reef fishes swimming circles in the equivalent of a one acre aquarium. Without a sink tip line, the only offerings were barracudas and hard-tail jacks, but the unusual diversion was just what we needed to break the monotony.
By 3:30PM it was time to start looking for the Ocean Princess. We had planned the run in three point-to-point legs so that if we ha engine trouble, the Ocean Princess would know where to start looking.
The second leg of the rendezvous was a 5 mile run to Boat Rock. Boat Rock is actually a 1/4 mile long cay on the southwest corner of Andros. It has tiny west facing flats that are shielded from the strong easterly trades, making fishing easy but it is so small and so out of the way that no one ever stops here to fish...no one except us, that is. So without any expectation we stopped and took a short stroll up the protected side. Without warning 3 large schools of 2-3 pound bones arrived as if they had awaited our arrival. We barely had time to lock and load but did just managed to leave one small fish with a toothache before it was quitting time.
The final leg was an act of blind faith. Going out of sight of land in a 16 foot skiff guided only by dead reckoning and a hand-held box of transistors to an seemingly imaginary point in the space-time continuum requires a good bit of positive karma. The box didn’t fail us and the rendezvous went off without a hitch. We arrived at the "OP" just in time for late afternoon cocktails.
Tuesday morning had all of the promise of a new bride. After a pre-dawn double-shot coffee, two bananas, and a heavy coating of SPF 50 on all exposed parts, the skiffs were loaded with fuel and fishing gear. The game plan included morning exploration of the extensive flats on the west side of the Water Cays, midday fishing on the western flats and then an afternoon rendezvous with the Ocean Princess. This was a particularly ambitious plan since, due to draft constraints of the Ocean Princess, the rendezvous was to take place at a GPS coordinate 12 miles out into the Great Bahama Bank.
The flats on the east side of the Water Keys get really skinny at low water, too low in fact for our Carolina Skiff, Poule d'Eaux, that can usually float in only 4 inches of water. The "usually" part refers to the normal state of affairs with both transom plugs in. Tuesday simply refused to be usual and so as in many great fishing trips it started out badly. Within 20 minutes of leaving the Ocean Princess, we were stuck on a hard marl flat with more water in Poule d'Eaux than on the flat and so we had to get out and push. Except for the embarrassment of two old salts getting stuck high and dry, our misfortune quickly turned to fortune, for as soon as we got down to water level to push, we could see tailing fish 300 yards ahead. The hard marl made for easy wading and minutes later, Eric was hooked up. But all things must pass and after 20 minutes the bones moved off the flat and so did we.
For the next hour we toured the Water Cays scoping out fishing options. This is an incredibly beautiful place. The southern cays are lined by long white sand beaches and are separated by serpentine turquoise channels. This would be a great place to take non-fishermen for an afternoon of beachcombing. As we moved around from the south to the west, the topography changed dramatically. The flats on the eastern side had been marl, on the southern side sand, and now on the western side were soft mud. Although these western flats were pocked up like a moonscape from eons of bonefish mudding, we only found a few fish and caught none.. Timing, we figured, was everything and perhaps we should have been there yesterday. Because the western flats were too soft to wade and held too few fish that day to hold our interest, we began looking for alternatives. What would it take to entertain 2 bored, hot, and hungry fifty-somethings stuck in perpetual adolescence? Answer: a blue hole.
At first glance from 200 yards away it looked like a round cloud shadow on the background light green of the sand and mud flat. However as we floated closer, it was clear that we had accidentally wandered over one of the Bahamas famous blue holes. Measuring over 100 yards across, the Water Cays blue hole is one of the largest we’ve ever seen. It was clear that this was the deepest piece of water for miles in any direction and that that meant it was a unique ecosystem – reef fishes swimming circles in the equivalent of a one acre aquarium. Without a sink tip line, the only offerings were barracudas and hard-tail jacks, but the unusual diversion was just what we needed to break the monotony.
By 3:30PM it was time to start looking for the Ocean Princess. We had planned the run in three point-to-point legs so that if we ha engine trouble, the Ocean Princess would know where to start looking.
The second leg of the rendezvous was a 5 mile run to Boat Rock. Boat Rock is actually a 1/4 mile long cay on the southwest corner of Andros. It has tiny west facing flats that are shielded from the strong easterly trades, making fishing easy but it is so small and so out of the way that no one ever stops here to fish...no one except us, that is. So without any expectation we stopped and took a short stroll up the protected side. Without warning 3 large schools of 2-3 pound bones arrived as if they had awaited our arrival. We barely had time to lock and load but did just managed to leave one small fish with a toothache before it was quitting time.
The final leg was an act of blind faith. Going out of sight of land in a 16 foot skiff guided only by dead reckoning and a hand-held box of transistors to an seemingly imaginary point in the space-time continuum requires a good bit of positive karma. The box didn’t fail us and the rendezvous went off without a hitch. We arrived at the "OP" just in time for late afternoon cocktails.
Near Jackfish Creek, South Andros, Monday, 30 April.
Near Jackfish Creek, South Andros, Monday, 30 April. We set out at 8am and the plan was to explore mostly ocean flats of the Curley Cut Cays and the eastern most part of the Water Cays. The tide was low at 6am and we would be catching it in midrange. This is not the best for bonefish coming onto flats. We fished a dozen areas before noon. Each island picture perfect with mangroves right up to the water; huge flats of grass and corals and sand. Perfect habitat. The wading was firm. The flats are endless.
At around 10am I motored into an island that had a smaller island just off its shore on the ocean side. The separation between the two was only twenty feet. The water was knee deep and the tide was still running out. I approached from the east and could see a huge flat on the westerly side of this cut. Both islands had mangroves right up to the water. What I saw was several thousand bonefish stacked up on the flats on the western side trying to move through this little cut. The fished were over 100 yards deep. With a Deep Water Gotcha I caught over a dozen bones there. Each catch would stir up the group. But after I landed the fish, within a few minutes the fish were stacked up again. The beautiful part of this fish was that the fish would move through in groups of about 50 or so. Most of these fish were in the 2-3lb range. Largest one was a 4-5 pounder.
The best tide for fishing bonefish on flats is the rising tide. But the tide must be caught early when it begins to flood the flat. That afternoon the tide would be low around 1pm. But this area drains so much territory that the tides are often off by hours. For instance the ocean may be low at 1pm, but the ocean flats are still draining water from the interior 2 hours after that low. Near our morning bonanza spot we decided to wait for the tide change. The flats had drained dry and we were sitting around on our flats boats waiting. I even took a 30 min nap while waiting.
At 5pm the flats were drained and the tide was slack. Nothing but dry flats everywhere. We had stacked out near a channel that runs from the ocean into the interior flats, splitting two huge ocean flats almost in half. That is where we anchored our boats in order to get close. The wait was worth it. As soon as the water started to rise the fish started to stage in the deeper water. This is fishing in the shallowest waters, as the bonefish push onto the flooding flat. Stream after stream of schools moved onto the flats. Each school was tailing. What you say was pods of bonefish tailing slowly as the water rose. The opportunities were incredible. I picked a bead eyed Charlie that Alec had given me (get the name later). I matched the bottom color which was tanish. I fished on my knees in order to get close enough to cast to the fish. With water only ankle deep, my profile was spooking the fish before I got close. Some fantastic hookups in this shallow water. I landed 4 good fish and had another 3 break off.
It was a good day of fishing. Back to the mother ship for shower and dinner; and of course, rum and tonics.
Sunday, April 29, Jackfish Channel, South Andros at anchor.
Sunday, April 29, Jackfish Channel, South Andros at anchor. The main road down south on Andros ends at Mars Bay. In the 20 miles below Mars Bay there are no inhabited structures on Andros. Any prudent mariner all the way to the southern tip of Andros into the Coulter and Water Cays should be self sufficient and have built redundancy into all critical systems. As such, we would fail the prudent mariner definition but we headed south anyway in search of adventure and big stupid fish. When planning is not one’s strength, bring lots of duct tape.
As dawn broke on Sunday morning we surveyed the Andros barrier reef, third longest in the world, for a small channel through to the inside. There are several approaches to the Coulter Cays for boats drawing less than 5 feet. The Ocean Princess drawing 5.5 feet pushes the limit on many of these approaches, including the one we chose, just south of North Rock. A few bumps later, we were tucked into our anchorage in Jackfish Channel and preparing for our first day on the flats.
Having secured our anchorage and stored sand, more importantly, our fishing gear broken out, we started the all too fun process of running through our pre-fish preparations. Having towed a Carolina skiff rigged for bone fishing, we added to the fishing fleet by lowering the Mitzi Craft from the Ocean Princess topside. Rods were assembled; reels attached and checked; fresh leaders attached; and flies selected for their fish-catching certainty. With topping off skiffs with gas, grabbing pushpoles and last application of sunscreen, we were off.
We ran up Jackfish Channel into the keys and started our search for south Andros bonefish. We were surrounded by flats in every direction. Huge flats, some with marl and some with bright sand, pulled at our impulse to stop and fish. We fought the urge and sought to get more of a feel of where we were and, more to the point, where the fish might be. Winging around one key, we came to another flat, and this one just looked too good. We came off the plane, pulled up the motors and started to pole. Sure enough, there was a school of mixed-size bones marching toward us. Eric was given the honors of first shot and he whipped a few casts out to the school. Sure enough, he had a take but, in his excitement, he set the hook too vigorously and popped the fly off in the fish. He quickly tied on another fly and Ben poled him back to the school. This time, he worked the presentation just fine and he was on. With a two and a half pound bonefish in the skiff, we were now in the game.
Sport fishing in general and bonefishing in particular are filled with dogma and anthropormorphisms. For example, I have often heard that "Bonefish move on to flats on the flood to feed and out with the ebb to avoid being trapped by falling water." Although this statement in particular seems to have some face validity predicting movements and locations of fish is usually mythological. After all they call it fishing, not catching. The numbers of variables that potentially could affect fish behavior are almost infinite: tide stage, tidal flow, tidal range, wind, water temperature, time of day, lighting, underwater topography, and food availability to name a few. I have stood on countless flats that had previously produced fish in conditions that looked perfect to me, waiting through several tide changes for fish to arrive. I have been offered and have offered explanations for the "no shows" but I must now humbly submit that I don't have a clue. This said, I will gladly fish with those of you who claim to know what you are doing. For some, I've come to believe that they actually conjure up fish. But, for the rest of us mortals, it’s a portion of strategy and a dose of good fortune.
In fact, we have found bonefish in most every venue we have scoured - just not every spot at every time. It seems every more clear that it's not just where you try to ambush bonefish but when you fish them. Tidal situation means everything when fishing bonefish. We're seeing a clear pattern of bonefish staging in a particular flat just prior to the respective tidal change. Anticipating that and positioning yourself accordingly makes all the difference. When you do that just right, you own the fish for 60 - 90 minutes and then it's over. This is truly angling, not merely fishing.
As dawn broke on Sunday morning we surveyed the Andros barrier reef, third longest in the world, for a small channel through to the inside. There are several approaches to the Coulter Cays for boats drawing less than 5 feet. The Ocean Princess drawing 5.5 feet pushes the limit on many of these approaches, including the one we chose, just south of North Rock. A few bumps later, we were tucked into our anchorage in Jackfish Channel and preparing for our first day on the flats.
Having secured our anchorage and stored sand, more importantly, our fishing gear broken out, we started the all too fun process of running through our pre-fish preparations. Having towed a Carolina skiff rigged for bone fishing, we added to the fishing fleet by lowering the Mitzi Craft from the Ocean Princess topside. Rods were assembled; reels attached and checked; fresh leaders attached; and flies selected for their fish-catching certainty. With topping off skiffs with gas, grabbing pushpoles and last application of sunscreen, we were off.
We ran up Jackfish Channel into the keys and started our search for south Andros bonefish. We were surrounded by flats in every direction. Huge flats, some with marl and some with bright sand, pulled at our impulse to stop and fish. We fought the urge and sought to get more of a feel of where we were and, more to the point, where the fish might be. Winging around one key, we came to another flat, and this one just looked too good. We came off the plane, pulled up the motors and started to pole. Sure enough, there was a school of mixed-size bones marching toward us. Eric was given the honors of first shot and he whipped a few casts out to the school. Sure enough, he had a take but, in his excitement, he set the hook too vigorously and popped the fly off in the fish. He quickly tied on another fly and Ben poled him back to the school. This time, he worked the presentation just fine and he was on. With a two and a half pound bonefish in the skiff, we were now in the game.
Sport fishing in general and bonefishing in particular are filled with dogma and anthropormorphisms. For example, I have often heard that "Bonefish move on to flats on the flood to feed and out with the ebb to avoid being trapped by falling water." Although this statement in particular seems to have some face validity predicting movements and locations of fish is usually mythological. After all they call it fishing, not catching. The numbers of variables that potentially could affect fish behavior are almost infinite: tide stage, tidal flow, tidal range, wind, water temperature, time of day, lighting, underwater topography, and food availability to name a few. I have stood on countless flats that had previously produced fish in conditions that looked perfect to me, waiting through several tide changes for fish to arrive. I have been offered and have offered explanations for the "no shows" but I must now humbly submit that I don't have a clue. This said, I will gladly fish with those of you who claim to know what you are doing. For some, I've come to believe that they actually conjure up fish. But, for the rest of us mortals, it’s a portion of strategy and a dose of good fortune.
In fact, we have found bonefish in most every venue we have scoured - just not every spot at every time. It seems every more clear that it's not just where you try to ambush bonefish but when you fish them. Tidal situation means everything when fishing bonefish. We're seeing a clear pattern of bonefish staging in a particular flat just prior to the respective tidal change. Anticipating that and positioning yourself accordingly makes all the difference. When you do that just right, you own the fish for 60 - 90 minutes and then it's over. This is truly angling, not merely fishing.
Nassau, 2pm Saturday April 28.
Nassau, 2pm Saturday April 28. We landed to a madhouse at the Nassau airport. People everwhere. Kind of reminded me of an airport scene in a movie about Jakarta, Indonesia after a failed coup attempt. People everwhere and not much order.
Made it through that and took a cab to the boat docked at the far side of the island at the Yacht Haven. We didn't wait long before taking off on a night voyage down the Tongue of the Ocean. Our destination: Far South Andros near Jackfish Creek. We have never done this before and none of our books and maps show a good anchorage.
Our voyage at night consisted of each taking a 3 hour shift. Other than almost running over an unlit bahamian fishing boat in the middle of the ocean, it was uneventful.
The breeze was light. The sky clear. The water was calm.
Made it through that and took a cab to the boat docked at the far side of the island at the Yacht Haven. We didn't wait long before taking off on a night voyage down the Tongue of the Ocean. Our destination: Far South Andros near Jackfish Creek. We have never done this before and none of our books and maps show a good anchorage.
Our voyage at night consisted of each taking a 3 hour shift. Other than almost running over an unlit bahamian fishing boat in the middle of the ocean, it was uneventful.
The breeze was light. The sky clear. The water was calm.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Airplane over the Gulf Stream, 11:30a Saturday, April 28, 2007.
Airplane over the Gulf Stream, 11:30a Saturday, April 28, 2007.
Boarded our plane in New Orleans @ 6am and we're off to Nassau.
Looking forward: the weather looks good. Beau brought the boat from Lauderdale: leaving on Thursday. He started with 18 knot wind on his nose (ESE). He slept on the Great Bahama Bank and made it into Nassau to the Yacht Haven on Friday about 7pm. He should be full of fuel and ready to go when we arrive.
The Plan: the plan is to make a night sail leaving at about 3pm and head west and south out of Nassau over the deep water of the Tongue of the Ocean to the southern tip of Andros. Cruise time should be about 12 hours. We anticipate finding an uninhabited part of the Bahamas (the road ends 20 miles north of where we will be) with white sandy cays and lots of wading flats around them. Hopefully we will find many unfished to bonefish.
Boarded our plane in New Orleans @ 6am and we're off to Nassau.
Looking forward: the weather looks good. Beau brought the boat from Lauderdale: leaving on Thursday. He started with 18 knot wind on his nose (ESE). He slept on the Great Bahama Bank and made it into Nassau to the Yacht Haven on Friday about 7pm. He should be full of fuel and ready to go when we arrive.
The Plan: the plan is to make a night sail leaving at about 3pm and head west and south out of Nassau over the deep water of the Tongue of the Ocean to the southern tip of Andros. Cruise time should be about 12 hours. We anticipate finding an uninhabited part of the Bahamas (the road ends 20 miles north of where we will be) with white sandy cays and lots of wading flats around them. Hopefully we will find many unfished to bonefish.
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- 15 miles off the SouthWest Coast of Andros, near M...
- Near Jackfish Creek, South Andros, Monday, 30 Apri...
- Sunday, April 29, Jackfish Channel, South Andros a...
- Nassau, 2pm Saturday April 28.
- Airplane over the Gulf Stream, 11:30a Saturday, Ap...
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