Red Spread

Deserted old flat bed in a North Carolina marsh flat

Last Wednesday I was netting the 18 inch rainbow in Western North Carolina after one of the best fights I've encountered with a trout.  This week, I really understood what kind of power a fish can put out while landing my first redfish on a fly on the other end of our great state.  North Carolina is truly unbelievable.

Red Fish pull. Period. After at least 7 short outings in Charleston, I was surprised to land my first red on a North Carolina marsh flat where no one in the area seemed to talk about fishing flats, much less know anyone who fly fished. Essentially, most of this experienced played out far different than I ever imagined, while other parts where spot on.  I knew I had two limited chances to chase reds on our family vacation, and my first outing was mostly wandering through the marsh trying to figure out where to concentrate my efforts.  It turned out to be super windy at this 5.0 high tide, and when a found a tailing red, I blew two cast in the wind, had two decent casts, then had a third cast wrap around spartina grass right on top of the tailer. Fail.

The following day seemed to be to much of a Drake article set up to expect to catch a fish. A last-chance-for-who-knows-how-long kind of scenario.  Here is a list of ways it went different than I had invisioned while day dreaming about red fish.

1. Red fish fight way harder then any one has ever told me.  Way harder. Stinkin' awesome.

2. I was convinced all the waked and fin tips I was seeing on this day were mullet, and didn't even cast at them until this guy ate my fly. The fins looked gray, not orange.  I think the cloud cover kept the fins from lighting up "red."Later I realized all the "mullet" I let swim through the trough I was watching were all decent sized reds.

3. I didn't see a single tailing fish. Saw some fins pushing through the shallow trough to get into the flat, but no tailors.

4. I lead a wake with a good fly, and strip directly back to me when I got the eat.

5. I don't even remember thinking about the hook set. I just happened.

6. If it took me four minutes to land the fish, than three minutes and 50 seconds were spent wondering if it was a red fish.  Some one had told me bonnet sharks can get in the flat and chase bait, and I was thinking it was probably a bonnet. When it was at my feet, I finally realized I had caught a good red fish.

7. I didn't get any epic pics of my first red fish. Standing knee deep in a marsh, no dry land near by, with an i-phone, fish, and fly rod in hand is the equivalent of texting and flossing while driving a stick shift; it's awkward and you need another arm or two.

thought i had the whole fish in the frame

Beautiful spot tail (way out of focus)

Some other things went as hoped, invisioned, and planned.

1. My cyber scouting with google maps was great. FOund access and flats from satellites.

2. I had always wanted to take my first red on a more traditional pattern, and not a spoon fly. After some calls, I decided to go with a copper head variant. Got 'em.

3.  The tide was supposed to be around 5.5 on this day, which should lead to more fish in the flat, and it did. They cam piling through about 45 minutes before high tide (i just thought they were big mullet).

4. Without the wind from the day before, I was able to watch for wakes in the smooth water much better, and here crashing and splashing in the spartina grass far easier.

5.  I caught one in the bottom of the 9th. Thats how it happens in the story books, and thats how it happened this time.  It had been 2 years since my last shot, and I hoped that would have been a walk off home run situation.  But I left empty handed after four attempts int he Charleston marsh.

I think my carp fishing earlier this summer helped with my presentation for reds, but red fight way harder than carp. The tug is the drug, and reds pull hard and fast. I walked out of the spartina that day a little early. There was an impending storm, but even with the chance of catching more, my first red had me walking light and grinnin' like a fool.

sunset over the inter coastal waterway

Yucatan Flats on the Fly - Pesca Maya Review

The Yucatan peninsula seems to be founded on a slab of chalky stone, and after an hour of being jostled down a Mexican jungle dirt road in a van full of strangers, local radio station playing seemingly the same song on repeat, one's mind begins to short circuit and confuse the chalky dust covering the road side vegetation as fake snow applied from an aerosol can. It can turn twighlight zone real quick in the Mexican backcountry. The van ride that started in the 5:30 am darkness ends on a strip of Caribbean wilderness no wider than a 100 yards with the sea to the East and Ascension Bay to the West. Pesca Maya fishing lodge is an unglamorous lodge perched on a remote strip of jungle in the middle of paradise.

Front porch of the Pesca Maya Ascension Bay Fishing Lodge

I've spent a lot of money to cast a fly towards bonefish on the picturesque flats of Ascension Bay, and the flavor of the lodge seems to screams "Mexico" more than "moeny well spent." During a breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs chunked with diced ham, and coffee I'm introduced to my guide, Wilberth. Moments later, we are walking down one of two sandy tire ruts that leads to my first tropical flats fly fishing excursion.

road to dock

Less than 5 minutes later, Wilberth has the motor on the mexican panga whining, and 10 minutes after that, Wilberth's assistant Angel hands me a 9 wt. Sage with a right-hand set up Hatch reel and I step up on the platform, tucked close enough to the mangroves to shelter us from the 25 mph winds..  Nearly an hour passes and we have only seen mullet and barracudas. I begin to question if I shelled out way too many bones to chase fish.  We finally corner an nice sized snook under some mangrove roots, and part after Wilbert and Angel throw ice from the cooler at the fish in attempts to move him out from under his cover. Wilbert signals we are changing locations, and I hope that the fact we havn't seen nary a bonefish and have already resorted to "jumping" snook out of the bushes with cooler ice doesn't foreshadow the rest of the days activities.

Wilberth taking us to new water

Not only is the new location more picturesque, we start seeing fish.  In the next 2 hours I land my first two bonefish, miss my first two bonefish, and cast to 4 permit and 1 baby tarpon. The skunk was off, and I was crazy stoked to see permit, much less cast to 4 and get a follow.  Lunch on the boat was great, and afterwards, the fishing only got better.

My first bonefish in the boat

Angel with my second, and smallest bonefish of the day

 I can't say enough about Wilberth Xec.  Not only could did he pole a panga with 3 people in 25 mph winds all day, he gave me an opportunity for a grand slam on my first trip in those rough conditions. The end of the day saw seven bone fish landed, with a handful of jacks, a blue runner, and cuda to boot.  I only hooked myself in the back once. Angel helped to manage my line on the deck, and Wilberth's ability to spot fish and coach me on strips and hook sets was great. He english was some of the best I heard from any native while in Mexico, and his knowledge of the fishery and techniques were spot on .  I highly recommend Wilberth if you ever choose to set up a trip through Pesca Maya.

The location was remote and gorgeous. My guide worked hard, was professional, and put me on fish in tough conditions. It wasn't cheap, but I got picked up from my hotel by Pesca Maya, fed breakfast, and caught fish on my first attempt on bonefish. If I had a bucket list, this would have been on it and happily scratched off at the end of the day.

Here are some more pics from the trip.

Wilberth Xec, Pesca Maya Guide

Front porch of the lodge

Ocean view from the lodge