Fishing Turks and Caicos

I recently went to an destination wedding for one of my best friends in Turks and Caicos Islands.  It was an unbelievable wedding with ridiculous times at the Beaches resort.  The weekend was epic, but for purposes of this blog, we'll stick with the fishing.

 

 

Friday we had a guys outing (all the girls went to the spa) and we hooked up with Grand Slam Charters and they took us on their Wahooooo boat. T&C islands are setup nicely because within 10 minutes you can be fishing for blue marlin and the big boys if you want.  In the States its an hour trip to the Gulf.   We had a great trip and though we didn't catch a ton, the most important thing was the groom-to-be landed a fish: a Spanish mackerel.



 

Robbie with a Spanish mackerel

 

 

We found plenty of bait balls and bombing birds, and I really thought we were going to get into the fish, but it just didn't happen today.  With the trolling bite a little slow, we decided to anchor up and do some bottom fishing...but the only problem was Captain didn't have his @#$@'n anchor.  Someone must have taken it out and not returned it.  Seriously WTF.  Fortunately, we had a laid back group, so we just rolled with it and went back to trolling.  It was a great day to be out, so most of the team rested up, while some of us pounded Turks Head beer and ate Cheetos.

 

Trouble brewing at sea

 

As we were approaching the end of the 6 hr trip (which went really fast) the rod bent and Captain yelled 'Fish on!'  Scott, who we thought was temporarily paralyzed, sprung to his feet in a cat-like motion and quickly laid the wood to a 10 lb Mahi Mahi.

 

We ended up boating these two fish and the nice thing was we had the resort cook up the mackerel and Mahi for the rehearsal dinner Friday night.  The food on the menu was great, but nothing trumped that fresh fish.

 

 

 Though I had an awesome day on the boat deep sea fishing, I couldn't stop thinking about the endless miles of pristine bonefish flats surrounding Provo Island, Turks and Caicos. 

 

 

 

I also spent hours tying up bonefish flies in the winter for this trip and brought all my stuff.  I was so pumped to go, I skipped the late night partying and instead got a good night sleep.  Nothing trumps fishing.

 

As luck would have it, our concierge at the Beaches resort knew just the local bonefish guru that fishes every day and I ended up getting an invitation to get out for a few hours in the morning.  He was an old timer that grew up on the island (also known locally as a Belonger) and name was Lam which was short for Lambert.  He took me out to one of his money flats (sorry DIY bonefishers...not to be named) where we waded for a few hours hunting for these ghosts.  I've said it before, but I think I could easily wander these miles of flats hunting for bones / permit forever.  Time just doesn't exist here.  Nothing but wading, searching and peacefulness.  True heaven.

 

After a few hours of searching and not one single cast, I spotted the first two bones flanking in at 45 feet.  I was up first and Lam told me to make the cast.  I had seconds to get it off...and as I started my false cast, my fly line kinked in the rod guide  and they were gone just like that.  I blew it.  I was sick.  And they were big - so big I didn't even ask Lam how big.  But about 20 silent minutes later, he said, 'you know they wuz bout 12 pounders.'  The biggest bonefish I ever caught was maybe 6 lbs and a 10 pounder was a fish of a lifetime.  I wanted to puke.  But I was pretty stoked I spotted the first fish before Lam did, so we waded on, huntin... searching. 

 

I continued to look down wind hoping my next fish would present an easy cast, but Lam found the next fish and the bonefish was dead nuts into the wind.  'There he is.  Make the cast.'  With one false cast, I made the best cast I've ever made into the stiff flat's wind.  At 35 feet, that single bone cruised the mud flats in 10 inches of water and I put the fly 5 feet in front of his nose between him and me.  He instantly turned.  I made a strip and he swam, but didn't commit.  He was close to me..now maybe 25 feet and my heart was about to come through my chest.  I crouched as low as I could and on the third short strip of a small tan shrimp fly, he ate it.  Game on!  3 trips into my backing and what felt like an hour later, the fish was to hand - a solid 8 pounder and biggest bonefish to date.  It was epic.  I'll never forget that.  It was the last fish we saw and then I had to hustle back to get ready for a wedding!  What a day.

 

 

 

 

 Hours later, it was back to the pool side bar and prep for Robbie and Clare's wedding (which was the real reason we were all there :)  Then onto the celebration!  I've been to a lot of weddings, but none with a view like this.  All weddings should be in bonefish heaven.