|Russ on the lookout for permit.|
1. Just like in Alaska, fishing in Belize can be a total crapshoot. We had two full days guided along with a decent bit of non-guided fishing. One of the guided days was a near complete bust. High winds meant we couldn't get out to the flats--and couldn't have cast well even if we got there--while rain and cool weather meant everything was shut down. It's never good when the guide tells you it might as well be snowing. With few options, at the least the reef fish cooperated.
|My first fly-caught mutton snapper, also known as "Dinner."|
|Russ with a jack.|
|A typical Belizean bonefish.|
|Russ wandering one of many flats in search of permit.|
|The panga is the boat of choice in Belize.|
After a morning of very soft bonefish takes, I asked the guide what I should expect if a permit took my fly. He responded, "you'll probably break it off." I took that to mean that they take hard. Later, after missing an epic opportunity at a herd of permit that looked more like a swarm of locusts destroying a midwest corn crop than a school of highly sought-after game fish tailing across a flat, the guide says to me "it's just not yet your time." I nearly shat my pants watching that school of fish tailing on top of my fly.
Russ and I both agreed that the guide's dry sense of humor was a plus since he definitely put us on fish. Combined with his frequent, yet appropriate use of swear words, I'd book another day with this guide in a heartbeat.
|This fly will not catch you a permit.|
|The Mayan ruins are amazing.|
|Mason enjoying Labaantun.|
|The Wife and Mason kayaking the Sittee River.|
|Taking the Little Man out for some snorkeling.|
|Mason's big fan of the beach.|
|The view from our front porch.|
|Russ, Kelly and I in Punta Gorda, Belize.|