Permit Me to Post about Permit

Punta Allen, Mexico

First day of saltwater flats fishing. And first, Rob and I want to thank Tom for staying home and working this week so he could make his payment to Rob for buying the practice Rob and I could go fishing this week. Such a kind younger brother. He must do it because we were so nice to him when we would take him backpacking with us when he was young!

But on to fishing. Beautiful day, not too much wind, but more than we would like. First flat was bare for a while, finally ran into some tailing bones that Rick spooked when he missed hooking one (but it was a strip set, not a trout set). Next on to a little inlet, where there were a number of bones in deeper water, but only the little guys were interested in eating. That slowed down, so off to another flat. Shortly after we started drifting the flat, we came upon a tailing permit. To flats fisherman and guides, permit is the holy grail. Some are reported to have fished for years trying to catch one. You see them a lot, they are just hard to catch. So the guides were excited to find one actively feeding. Out hops Rick, Luis, the guide grabs Rob's permit rod, and off we go, wading into a good position for our attempt. It was moving laterally out from shore and we were following, then the tail disappeared. No! Not spooked! Then Chucho, the guide on the boat located the permit again back in closer to shore. We carefully waded back in, got about 40 feet away and prepared to cast. The permit did a couple wild splashes; this guy was hungry, which bode well. Rick did a beautiful false cast in the 20 mph wind and dropped it right where the guide said - well, not exactly. A little too far to the left, and the guide almost whacked him in the head, a quick pickup, and the fly was dropped about 10 feet directly in front of the permit. One long, slow strip, and the tail immediately started heading towards the fly. Second strip, the tail was right behind the fly. Third strip was interrupted by a heavy pull. Small strip set, slow lift, and off goes the fish heading for Cuba. More than half way into the backing before it stopped. Twenty minutes or so later, Chuco tails the fish. High fives and fist bumps all around. When Tom comes, he'd better bring Rob's pole, it has the magic. Rob's third fish was a permit, my fourth fish was a permit. That fish makes the day.

Rick and Chucho with the permit, on the crab fly

We finished up on a big sandbar with a school of bonefish and baby permit. Caught some bones, Rick pulled the hook out of a couple little permit and had a couple more chase. Rob dropped his fly into the middle of the school of permit and sent them scattering every which direction.

Rob and Luis on the flats

Rob fighting a nice bonefish

These things have incredible strength for their size

Then it was back across the bay, through the mangroves, to the dock and the short walk to Casa Viejo Chac, our home for the week. Waiting to see what tomorrow will bring.

Our home this week

The bathroom door in our room

Appropriately folded towels awaited our return