On a recent trip to a remote and angler void section of the Caribbean I had the opportunity to cast to permit, bonefish as well as giant barracuda the size of small fishing boats. To me all saltwater flats fish encounters are special and landing a permit, tarpon, bonefish or even a barracuda on a fly imprints a memory that will last me a life time.Every unique fish I have encountered let alone brought to hand has and will be part of my thoughts to the end of my days. Barracuda encounters on these remote saltwater flats are common.While targeting giant barracuda the interaction between man and fish can be an explosive one.Casting a fly pattern like a needle fish and stripping it as fast as you can in front of the face of these ferocious fish holding in ambush can be a frustrating game of cat and mouse.Barracuda are unpredictable.You never know when one will eat a well placed and fished fly. On more than several occasions I have humbly waded or poled a boat away from a giant barracuda that just would not eat.
Protruding far from the shoreline and separating two beautiful and classic permit and bonefish flats was a treacherous rocky point. The remote trail leading to this point had a mound of aging conch shells that rose above the trail several feet. The waves breaking into this point produced tide pools that were a perfect hiding place for crab, shrimp as well as small reef fish. Barracuda food was everywhere. Wading and walking on these rocks with the incoming waves was difficult and potentially tragic if one would slip and fall but with giant barracuda on my mind I treked out to the tip of the point..Within first glance I noticed the torpedo shape of a large barracuda swimming away from me near the points edge.Sizing up the script unfolding in front of me I knew I would have to wait for the fish to return and face me to have a chance. I felt the fish would return as I was confident I was undetected in my approach. I decided to make a cast to get the line out I would need in order to intercept the fish upon its return. I would have at least the distance down and would next only have to adjust my casting direction when the barracuda reappeared. Within a split second of the needle fish fly hitting the water a giant dark object appeared from a water filled pocket off the tip of the point. For some strange unexplained reason my mind processed immediately it was a grouper. At the time a grouper was the furthest thing from my mind or world for that matter and to this day I still feel the initial shock I experienced when I recall the encounter. The surreal moment of this event was instantly consumed by the fly rod battle now at hand. At the end of my 20 pound test wire leader was nothing but brute power.The groupers first move after the hook up was bullying myself, my 10 weight fly rod and 20 pound wire tippet near the jagged rocks below. After a few powerful pulls the grouper decided to go offshore and screamed off my fly line and backing through the surf as it headed towards the second largest barrier reef in the world.
My thoughts turned to the fact I may soon lose the grouper and worse yet the encounter was so unlikely my friend fishing the adjacent flat for permit a hundred yards away would think I was crazy when I shared the tale. Thoughts of losing the fish or the sight of me holding it up in triumph for the camera raced through my mind. I debated on keeping the experience to myself to avoid the ridicule if I lost the fish. If I lost the fish I made up my mind to take this fish story with me to my grave.The grouper continued to scream out line and backing until it reached the reef. The battle turned really dire when I discovered it had hung up on the rocks of the outer reef. In a last ditch effort to at least continue the fight I stripped out line to give the line and fish slack in hopes it would free the backing, fly line and fish from the reef. Amazingly it worked. The line and fish was now swimming free of the reef. I was able to redirect pressure on the the fish. The fish was now growing weary and I was now able to work the grouper back to the base of the rocky point. The fight was far from over until an incoming wave crashed with perfect timing onto the fish and into the point helping me and a straining fly rod pull the beast over a rock into a perfect little tide pull.
And on this day The fish gods smiled down upon me
Word !
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