|The deck at Long Island Bonefishing Lodge, The Bahamas.|
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.|
|Markk Cartwright, fly fishing|
guide: "Welcome to the club."
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.