Reader-Submitted Story
Escaping the Cold and Fishing the Salt
by Brett Kondratiuk of Rimbey, Alberta
The day started early in Tulum, Mexico, we caught a taxi at 6:30 am. It was still dark out as we headed north. After about 20 minutes of driving, we turned off the highway and stopped at a gate. The taxi driver got out, opened the gate, and we continued down a dirt road that made the trunk road seem like QE2. After slowly navigating the pot holes, we arrived at a sleepy little campsite called Glamping. We paid, got out of the taxi, and walked to the beach. No sign of our guide, Mikel. I walked back to where we were dropped off and some guy stopped me.
“Hey gringo, who you looking for?”
I told him a guy who is going to take us fishing, his name is Mikel. The guy said, “Don’t worry, he will be right here.”
Sure enough, he came out of the Glamping site. After a quick introduction, we headed off to the beach.
Mikel fished his whole life, starting with a pop can and some line. Somewhere down the line he picked up fly-fishing, living a simple life of fishing and taking tourists fishing.
Mikel explained that the sun was not high enough to sight fish yet, “but cast towards the buoys over there. That’s where the bones hang out.”
I tied on a Crazy Charlie, cast towards the buoy, and stripped it in. Nothing. On the second cast, I started stripping in and BAM! The line went screaming out. “Fish on!” Wow! Those little bones can run.
After fighting the fish for a while, I got it to shore. A quick picture and some high-fives and I sent the line back out. I felt a bite and made the strip set. The BVK reel screamed and I was into backing in no time. This fish seemed like a tank compared to the first one. After about four or five runs into the backing, I brought it to shore. It was a yellow jack, not big, but tons of fight.
I proceed to catch three more bones and then something hit me in the leg and almost knocked me over. I looked back and there were three jack crevalles chasing the small bait fish in six inches of water. I sent my fly two feet in front of one of the jack’s with hope, but he wanted nothing to do with it.
Mikel said, “Let’s move south. There is permit down there.”
After a five-minute walk, we were at a rocky part of the beach. I sent my fly out and instantly had a bite. I wasn’t sure what it was but it was small. A fish and new to me catch, nonetheless.
Then something caught my eye and spooked me a little. A ray came out of the sand and swam right towards my feet, or should I say the bait fish at my feet. It had no worries about me being there and proceeded to fish alongside me.
Mikel waved frantically at me... “Permit!” he hollered. “Cast to the right, 40 feet out.”
I missed the spot and recast more to the right. Perfect! Now strip. Faster... strip, strip, strip... stop! Got him! But I forgot to “strip set” and I just “trout set” the fish. The fight lasted all of seven seconds and no permit for me. I had a few more chances at permit but none would take the fly.
Back to the bone area we went. It was approaching noon and the beach was filling up with swimmers. Where we were you needed to keep a distance of 250 metres from anyone in the water if you wanted to fish. That didn’t stop us. Mikel explained, “You need to look for the ‘clouds in the water’. Once you find the clouds, then the silver lines appear.”
There was about 40 of them sitting 20 feet from shore.
“Cast over them,” Mikel said. “Good cast, now strip, strip, strip... stop!”
Fish on! I landed three more bones sight fishing.
By then I was done, the sun was high and hot, time for a cerveza. We chatted with Mikel about fishing for an hour before he called us a cab to head back. It was a great time. I got some bones under my belt now and I am now planning my trip for red fish in Louisiana, ha-ha!
For the previous Reader Story, click here.
