Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Recovery...

Marooned for three days... 
After a long week of relentless bonefish angling on Long Island in the southern Bahamas--and that's an accurate adjective--we thought it would be worthwhile to spend a few days in Nassau to let the trip sink in and to relax with a few glasses of rum punch.

And my miles ticket to the Bahamas took some alchemy to accomplish--flying out on a Wednesday was really my only option. So here we are, steps from the beach and steps from the outdoor tiki bar.

Chillin'.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Sweet Redemption

The deck at Long Island Bonefishing Lodge, The Bahamas.
A little over a year ago, I stood on the deck of the Long Island Bonefishing Lodge overlooking the endless flats that extend into the Atlantic and off toward Cuba. I carefully tumbled a glass of good aged rum into the salt--my sacrifice to the fishing Fates.

They didn't answer. The wind and the rain continued, and a fruitless week spent chasing bonefish came to an end. I was skunked. Humbled. Fishless.

I was reminded by the gang at the lodge that bonefishing--especially the variety we were doing, where anglers fish solely on foot in the "do it yourself" spirit--is truly difficult. It's advanced fly fishing, where everything has to come together. The wind, the sun, the tides... even those maddening Fates ... all have to work in concert to ensure success.

Maybe the Fates listened after all.
bonefish, fly fishing, Long Island Bonefishing Lodge, the Bahamas
Markk Cartwright, fly fishing
guide: "Welcome to the club." 
I shouldn't feel so bad, they said. With the weather we had--overcast skies and wind that would have wrapped Marilyn Monroe's skirt around her neck and rolled her off into the deep--we faced long odds on the flats. But it was just salve. I was wounded. My pride took a serious blow that week--one that I never truly recovered from.

But you can earn some redemption... you can reset your fishing axis. Sometimes it takes a simple change in attitude. Sometimes it takes another trip to a remote Bahamian island where bonefish swim and taunt trout guys like me from afar. Sometimes, you have to hop a plane, suffer through a cross-country red-eye and then climb aboard a shake-and-bake
commuter to a little airport in the middle of nowhere.

Sometimes, as my favorite Caribbean troubadour might say, you have to change your latitude.

So I did.

Fish on. Many fish on.

Redemption.


Thursday, June 13, 2013

Ashes

Alaska, Prince of Wales Island, fly fishing
A glimpse of the perfect place.
There's a little creek that feeds Sumner Straight at the northern tip of Prince of Wales Island. I'll never utter its name, save for in the instructions I'll leave behind to my children to be opened after I'm dead and gone.

Those instructions will put them on the island in late August, when the silvers are running and the Dollies are colored up. The words will direct my kids along the karst road system of the island to a bridge over this small, watery paradise, and they'll simply read, "Walk downstream from the bridge a couple hundred yards until you find a gravel bar. Spread my ashes there and douse them in a pint of Jameson. Then, go fishing."

Thursday, June 6, 2013

The Baja in Pictures... Download Numero Uno

As many of you know, my buddy Mike Sepelak and I paid a visit to the East Cape of the Baja in April for some saltwater fly fishing. What you might not know is that we're also both on an upcoming tour to Long Island in the Bahamas. I figured it would be a tragedy to fail to share more of the photos from the Baja before I returned from the tropics again and started uploading photos from the Caribbean.

Here are a few shots from Mexico... more to come. Enjoy.



Sunrise over the Sea of Cortez, Spa Buena Vista, Mexico.