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The Bahamian flats are famous for bonefishing. Those who
have been there can never forget the endless miles of crystal
clear water, white sand and schools of bonefish. it's a place
where you can believe you are the only people in the world.
The search for bonefish is really a guide's business. It
can take several days until you can even see bonefish. They
were created by God to camouflage easily with clear water,
dappled sand and tourquoise sea. At first, the guide will
point out 50 to 60 feet away and say, "Nervous water". "What?"
you say. What in the world is nervous water? Then, your guide
will ask you to bend down low enough to the water to get the
seat of your pants wet and say, "See the bulge in the water
moving right to left?" Finally, the guide will point at long
dark shadows moving along right in front of you and say excitedly,
"SEE the fish" As if his willing you to see fish, will make
it so. Well, no I can't see any of that, but I believe you.
At some point in a three-day trip, you will find yourself
alone on the flat with your fishing companion. Your guide
wades back to the skiff to move it in front of the cay so
you won't have to wade back to it at the end of the morning.
At about 40 feet from your companion, you wade slowly with
the warm water against your shins. You know to shuffle your
feet along the soft sandy bottom so that you move as quietly
as you can. Fish can hear everything! You are in the middle
of a long cay with pristine white beach on your left with
just two lawn chairs. The sun is beating on you back. And
your mind wanders.
My companion is my husband of two weeks.
Wife: When I look out to the horizon I see the deep emerald
green line separating the sea and the sky. How is that line
formed? What adjective can I use to express the beauty of
this place in a poem?
Husband: Look at the two lawn chairs on the beach, boy is
that private!
Wife: The sky just above the emerald line is deep, denim
blue, but vibrant and alive with energy.
Husband: Wow, imagine how long my wife and I could be there
alone and totally undistrubed?
Wife: When the sun is bright, I see only one color of white
sand. When the clouds pass across the sun, the shine and shadows
show the dappling of the sand. It's almost molted like a piece
of jade, many shades of green, small pieces of turtle grass
waving softly at us. Coral and shells form small hills of
different green hues.
Husband: What would she wear? Which bag from Victoria's
Secret would be they right one to take?
 Wife:
This place should be captured in a poem.
Husband: How can I get us there tomorow?
Wife: Oh shit, a fish.
Husband: What would it take? Who would I slip a twenty or
fifty to get dropped off and picked up later?
Wife: Oh, what do I do? Drop the fly. Wet the line. Backcast
and shoot.
Husband: Maybe I could rent a boat. Let's see, we left the
harbor and then turned east, no west. That's it west and then
north. OK, I can find it.
Wife: Strip. Strip. Slowly. Slowly. Pull with your left
hand. The line screams through the guides She's on. She's
running for Cuba.
Husband: What's that noise? It's a reel. She's caught her
line in the turtle grass. No, it's a fish. Damn. I'm three
down all ready and look, look how fast she reels, just like
I showed her. Keeping her rod low and left and then raise
high as the fish cuts back. When did she learn this stuff?
I only showed her once. Keep the line tight. Oh, she did.
He's tiring.
Wife: Is he looking?
Husband: Oh, the camera. Good for her.
Wife: Oh. He's burning film like a cheap cigar. I smile.
I get the fish on her back. She's big, probably 5 or 6 pounds.
I give him my best "Is this how it's done look" knowing I
finally got it right. Yippee!
Husband: Damn it's her first trip. How did she know how
to turn the fish over. Guide must have shown her. Damn, she
IS the right one. It's NOT our last bonefishing grip. Good.
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