When I was in hot pursuit of my yellow permit both last year here at St. Brandon’s Atoll and earlier this week, I passed up many a bonefish – literally letting even the occasional 7lber swim by in order not to miss a cast at a permit.  It was torturous.  But I gave myself a light at the end of the tunnel.  I promised myself that once I got Mr. Yellow I’d take a day and cast to every bonefish I saw and enjoy some of the best bonefishing in the world.

 

Strangely however, in the two days since I caught the permit, I have hardly seen a bonefish and I haven’t caught one.  In fact, I’ve caught hardly anything.  Luckily, today the permit hangover left me in tremendous fashion.

 

This morning I shared one of my most enjoyable bonefishing sessions of my life with my FlyCastaway friends.  It wasn’t numbers.  Catching a 100 bones from a mud doesn’t thrill me.  It was the consistent steady flow of individual cruising tailing bonefish.  They weren’t by any means suicidal eating the fly on every cast – that can be boring too.  But they weren’t ridiculously stubborn either.  Basically, if you made a decent cast with a good presentation the bonefish cooperated but if you were at all sloppy, they were gone.

 

From the minute we stepped from the boat and spread out across the flat on what was an absolutely gorgeous day, it was game on.  I don’t think there was one minute in four hours when at least one of us wasn’t casting.  In fact, it was rare when one of us wasn’t fighting a bonefish.

 

There were no monsters caught.  I had one that may have been 7lbs and I’m certain we all did, but it was one after another of 3-6lb bones.  They were beautiful and I took the time to look at every single one of them then watch them swim away after release.  Today was truly the St. Brandon’s bonefishing day I’ve been dreaming of!

 

We left the flat around 1.  I was so content that at the next spot when the guys told me to grab my rod and be ready for permit, I said I’ll catch up.  I kicked back and watched the fellas walk the flat without me while I drank a beer and enjoyed lunch with my feet up.

 

When the beer was gone and my stomach full I still wasn’t ready to hunt a permit.  Instead I put on a white crazy Charlie and blind casted over the coral heads around the boat.  My hopes was to catch a Picasso triggerfish, a fish I’ve been longing for since my first trip to the Indian Ocean.

 

The Picasso trigger is a tiny fish but from what I’d seen in pictures, one of the more amazingly colored fish on the planet.  I’ve probably had 50 eat my fly over the years but you must be very lucky to perch your hook in their tiny little mouths.

 

Well let’s just say this has been one hell of an incredible trip.  I’ve been damn lucky and wouldn’t you know it happened.  I was down to my last couple of casts.  The guys were returning to the boat and I was sick of unhooking miniature spangled emperor fish.  I made a long cast and stripped.  I hooked a fish and remarkably it was the long-awaited Picasso trigger.  Another new species!  Possibly the 400^th (I will be updating my species list when I get home).

 

After the Picasso it was 3pm.  I could’ve reeled it in for the day but we stopped at an island flat right by camp called Big Trashy.  Its known as a prime permit spot but last year when I went it was void of life.  We left the boat and spread out.  I ended up in the middle of the guys in a cove.  My spot didn’t seem good but then I saw three fish moving in from out about 80 feet.

 

They were permit.  One big one leading two smaller fish.  I only had about 40 feet of line out and I ripped more off as fast as I could.  It ends up I dropped my cast short and they heard my crab fly come down hard and spooked out to the deep.

 

I had good spot after all.  I stripped out more line and coiled it perfectly on the sand.  I had the classic Merkin Crab on.  I checked the hook and then looked back out.  The sun was getting low and I had a ton of glare to fight.  Dang if that bigger fish wasn’t coming again.  This time by himself.

 

This time I hit him dead on dropping my fly a foot in front.  He did the famous spin move permit often do before the eat the fly.  What this is, is the permit hears the fly land.  Then they sort of spook but come back and circle it.  But instead of eating it he left for the deep again.  Something wasn’t right.

 

While fishing in Belize last December with Wil Flack he gave me some special crab pattern he loves.  By luck I had one in my box and tied it on.  I doubted the permit would be back but sure enough, this time trying to ambush me from the side, he came.  I hit the deck to hide and it was a short cast of about 30 feet.  The crab hit, sank and a streak of yellow pummeled it.  “Permit on!”

 

The initial run of this permit was extraordinary.  I was fishing my 9-weight Winston with my Bauer RX5 and the backing disappeared fast.  Gerhard could see and gave me good news – there was no coral the direction my fish ran.

 

Once the permit stopped I was able to gain back a ton of line fast much like you do after a bonefish stops.  Ten minutes of battle later, I landed yet my second Indo-Pacific permit.  A stunner of a fish!

 

It’s a fantastic thing to have any of the FlyCastaway crew around you when you catch a fish because they’re all clever with the camera.  But Gerhard is the best and he got serious.  In less than two minutes of shooting this fish at several different angles he looked at his camera screen and said, “We got it.  Amazing light!”.  Just what I wanted to hear and I released this astonishing fish back to the wild.

 

All I can say is wow.  Making the long journey back to St. Brandon’s Atoll has been far beyond worth it.  This is unreal!

 

After six days on the flats everyone is slowing down.  We had a scrumptious fresh grouper dinner and I’m not sure I had a beer.   We all retired before 8 pm.  We have one more day.

 

If you want to go to St Brandon’s Atoll feel free to contact me or my friends at Yellow Dog Flyfishing Adventures.

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing