Long Island might be The Bahamas’ road less traveled, but for those who have stumbled across this island gem that’s one of its most alluring charms. Strikingly beautiful, off the beaten path, and uncluttered, Long Island lies within easy reach of some of the best billfishing in The Bahamas. Add to that untold miles of virtually untouched bonefish flats that see almost no fishing pressure, and this destination quickly joins an angler’s bucket list.

A narrow spit of land— about 80 miles long from north to south, and up to 4 miles wide—Long Island sits on the eastern edge of the Bahama Bank a short run from Crooked Island, San Salvador and Rum Cay—where marlin, monster dolphin and wahoo roam.

Toward the island’s south end, Clarence Town’s harbor and the recently expanded Flying Fish Marina serve as the hub for the offshore fishing crowd. Long known as a reliable fuel stop for traveling sport-fishing boats, the marina now offers a much wider range of services.

The new two-story marina building sits at the end of a small peninsula and currently offers 21 permanent slips behind a protective seawall with plans for further expansion. Also on site: a marine store, fresh fuel, ice, Baitmaster baits and a small assortment of big-game tackle and rigging supplies.

Managed by Wendy and Jason Edler, an accomplished sportfish captain, the marina staff keeps up on all the current fishing action. A short walk away, Rowdy Boys restaurant on the beach serves up locally caught seafood and island cuisine. (Don’t miss the Friday night pig roast.) A little farther down the road and up the hill lies Nana’s Bakery, where you can get fresh island breads and wonderful homemade sandwiches.

According to Edler, the best wahoo fishing occurs October thru mid-March, and nearby Columbus Bank consistently produces ’hoos to 90 pounds. Yellowfin tuna migrate here from March through May, white marlin in April and May, and blue marlin from May through early July.

Only 6 miles from port, Simms Bar, also called The Finger, produces a lot of wahoo and a surprising number of marlin. Anglers bottomfish and deep-drop year-round for the typical Bahamian fare of snappers, groupers and wreckfish.

Long Island’s proximity to so many remote fishing spots keeps serious bluewater fishermen coming back. Pick a direction and you can be on prime fishing grounds in no time. You can make day trips or overnighters to Conception Island, Rum Cay, Crooked Island and the Acklins.

The Diana Bank, an awesome seamount, lies nearby and offers some of the most consistent fishing for pelagic species anywhere in The Bahamas. The upwellings it creates when the current strikes it start the whole circle of life with plankton blooms, bait, small predators and then the tuna and billfish, and it’s only a 28-mile run from the marina.

A favored overnight destination—Samana Cay, about 70 miles ESE—usually produces tuna, and big blue marlin are frequently in residence. Blues to more than 600-pounds have been caught there in recent years. You can always find a leeward anchorage to spend a restful night enjoying your catch of the day and sipping your favorite rum drinks.

The flats-fishing community centers around the Long Island Bonefish Lodge on Deadman’s Cay. The lodge offers accommodations and guided bonefish packages with fishing that rivals any of the more famous islands.

Long Island’s remote location means you will rarely see another angler. As the tide recedes, bonefish gather in the deeper channels that feed water onto the flats.

About eight miles north of Clarence Town on Queens Road, Lloyd’s Restaurant lies across the street from the turn-off for Dean’s Blue Hole, the deepest inland blue hole in the world, plunging to more than 650 feet. It hosts the Vertical Blue Free Diving International Competition each July, but it’s worthy of a visit any time of year to take a dip in the crystalline azure waters.

Further north another community clusters around the Stella Maris Airport and includes several restaurants, a secluded hideaway called Tiny’s Hurricane Hole, and the oceanfront Stella Maris Beach Resort.

At the extreme end of the island, Cape Santa Maria Beach—considered one of the 10 most spectacular beaches in the world—features soft white sand that stretches for miles. Amid this tropical beauty lies the ultra-secluded Cape Santa Maria Resort.

If you choose to sightsee on your trip, you’ll find numerous historic churches, some dating back to the 1800s and still in use. Others like St. Mary’s, thought to be the oldest church in The Bahamas dating to 1799, stand in stark ruins, the walls and altar still erect but open to the sky.

To tap Long Island’s greatest information resource, contact Ernest Major, who offers taxi service, guided tours, and boat-provisioning services, and is the island historian. His nickname is “Dat Guy,” and he should be on your speed dial for sightseeing, finding the best restaurants and the prettiest beaches, hooking up with bonefish guides, or getting you to the right places to provision your boat. Call or text him at 242 472-3365.

Long Island is an adventurer’s getaway where there are no crowds, no cruise ships and some of the finest bluewater and flats fishing to be found anywhere in the world. Once you experience it you’ll forever want to return.

Click here to learn more about Long Island!

The post Long Island, Bahamas: The Ultimate Getaway appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

In the 1930s, Bimini hosted the true pioneers of big-game fishing. Legendary anglers Zane Grey, Ernest Hemingway and Michael Lerner cut their teeth catching marlin and tuna in the Gulf Stream little more than a mile off the island’s beaches.

Anglers worldwide read of their adventurous exploits in the newspapers and magazines of the era. The mystique from those legends continues to lure fishermen to Bimini to experience the excellent fishing and the ambiance that inspired many of Hemingway’s later writings.

Bimini’s cluster of three small islands lie only 57 miles from Miami, closer to the United States mainland than any of the other Bahamas. As a fisherman’s playground, Bimini offers seasonal migrations of blue and white marlin, sailfish, wahoo, and dolphin, as well as yellowfin, blackfin and bluefins tunas. Bluewater fishing primarily excels from March through early July with the exception of an amazing wahoo run that extends from November through March.

Bonefish prowl the flats between the islands yearround. Those flats have produced numerous line- and tippet-class world records, including the all-tackle record 16 pounder, caught in 1971. Bimini also produced the only grander blue marlin ever recorded in The Bahamas.

Visitors can arrive by plane, landing at the airport on South Bimini, near a small community and a natural-limestone well. On a historic note: explorer Ponce de León once visited that well in the 1500s, hoping it to be the elusive Fountain of Youth.

While a number of carriers fly to the south island, most anglers make the quick run over on private boats or board the Bimini Fast Ferry that departs daily from Fort Lauderdale. When entering the cut between North and South Bimini, fishing boats head to the marinas at the legendary Bimini Big Game Club or the Hilton Resort World.

The main road on North Bimini—Queens Highway—starts in Alice Town. Most who come here walk or rent golf carts; the tiny size of Bimini (only 8.88 square miles) limits cars. Ferries run between the two islands and a daily tram operates on North Bimini.

Walking northward from Alice Town, visitors often stop along the way for the famous cracked conch and cold Kalik beer at Joe’s Conch Stand. Stroll farther and you pass the location of the historic Compleat Angler hotel, where Hemingway allegedly worked on one of his novels in the 1930s. The hotel burned down in 2006.

A little farther north lies the prestigious Bimini Big Game Club, the epicenter of fishing activity on the islands today. It features a full-service marina, a famous restaurant, bar, hotel, dive shop and liquor store.

The Big Game Club also hosts charter operators who target bonefish on the flats or chase marlin, wahoo, dolphin and yellowfin tuna offshore. Bottomfishermen can book trips to pull on the grouper, amberjack and snapper that prowl the reefs and shelves around the main islands and nearby smaller cays.

Great Isaac Cay to the north features a historic 150-foot lighthouse built in London in 1852 and transported to this tiny cay in 1859. The island lies abandoned, its buildings roofless from hurricanes, but an automated light still warns boats away from the rocky reefs of the Northwest Providence Channel. Expect to catch amberjacks and groupers in those very reefs and rocks.

To the south, bordering the western edge of the Great Bahama Bank, lies a chain of small islands includes Turtle and Piquet rocks, Holm, Gun, North Cat, South Cat and Ocean cays. All offer fish-attracting structure for bottomfish, midwater structure for wahoo, and a deep edge scoured by the passing Gulf Stream.

Other Bimini highlights include the Healing Hole, a pond of mineral-rich fresh water that flows up through the surrounding saltwater habitat. The Hole is fabled for its supposed healing powers, dating back hundreds of years to when the Lucayan Indians roamed these islands.

Visit the Bimini Biological Field Station and Shark Lab in Port Royal on South Bimini for tours and instructional talks on the island’s marine life.

Bimini holds a very special place in sportfishing history and is still providing anglers fresh fish tales of their own today.

Click here to learn more about Bimini!

The post Bimini: The Original ‘Island in the Stream’ appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Though generally considered a single island, Andros actually comprises three land masses separated by bights: North Andros, Mangrove Cay and South Andros. At 2,300 square miles, Andros ranks as the largest island in The Bahamas with acreage greater than all other cays combined. This angler’s paradise offers excellent, nearby offshore fishing and what many consider to be the finest shallow-water fishing for bonefish and permit anywhere in the world.

The island’s unique location, with its eastern shoreline bordering a massive submarine canyon and its western boundaries abutting the limitless shallows of the Great Bahama Bank, provides the perfect habitat for chasing pelagic speedsters like marlin and wahoo one day and stalking the ghosts of the flats the next.

Some of the best fishing for pelagic species takes place off North Andros, where the Tongue of the Ocean—a canyon with depths surpassing a mile in places—makes a hard turn to the south in an area called “The Pocket.” According to Skipper Gentry, owner of the charter boat Carolina Gentleman and Gentry Lodge in Morgan’s Bluff, the hunt for gamefish starts within minutes of leaving the dock.

Within a mile of the eastern Andros shoreline, the water depth drops to more than 2,000 feet. Between the beach and the drop lies the famous Andros Barrier Reef, the sixth largest coral reef in the world, stretching more than 140 miles from north to south and popular for diving, snorkeling, sling fishing and bottom fishing for grouper and snapper.

“It’s the flow of deep-blue water pushing through the Northwest Providence Channel that is responsible for the superb offshore fishing we enjoy here,” Gentry says. “We experience seasonal abundance of the various gamefish. The wahoo fishing is spectacular, with great numbers arriving in January and staying through April. They prowl the edges of the reef and are caught within sight of shore.”

Blue and white marlin, dolphin and yellowfin tuna action rallies from March through June, and the summer months bring the best bottom fishing for grouper, snapper and amberjack, with a bonus run of blackfin tuna arriving in July and August, he adds.

Regardless of season, flats fishing stays hot. Bonefish can be found throughout the year. The central and western regions of Andros contain hundreds of square miles of mangroves, salt ponds, cuts, bights, flats and tiny cays that provide the habitat for vast schools of bones.

With such extensive habitat as well as protection from the local guides, who encourage catch and release, bonefish maintain a larger average size than those found in other highly regarded fishing destinations like the Florida Keys or Belize. The average size bonefish on Andros weighs 4 to 6 pounds with many running considerably larger. Many say Andros offers a greater chance of catching a true trophy-size bonefish over 10 pounds compared with anywhere else on the planet. A seasonal migration of permit from April through July provides an additional flats target.

For visiting fly fishermen, Andros represents an ultimate challenge. The many bonefish lodges located throughout the island in addition to independent guides offer a variety of services from pickup at your resort lodging to cottage rentals. Some of the best known lodges include Kamalame Cay, Eva’s Bonefish Lodge, Small Hope Bay Lodge, Andros Island Bonefish Club, Bair’s Lodge, Bonefish Bonanza, Mount Pleasant Lodge, Buccaneers and Bones, and Swains Cay Lodge.

Hermon Bain of Hermon’s Bonefish Lodge typifies an Andros bonefish guide. Calling on more than 20 years of experience, he might take you wading somewhere along the immense hard sand flats or pole his skiff through miles of mangroves. He knows all Andros has to offer and how to put his clients in the right place at the right time. Like so many of the brotherhood of guides here, he learned the ways of bonefish from his father and started poling boats even as a child.

Middle and South Bights, famed bonefish grounds, separate sparsely populated South Andros from the more populated and developed northern part of the island. Much of the island falls under protected park land overseen by The Bahamas National Trust. The West Side National Park alone encompasses 1 1/2 million acres of mangroves and flats, where no development is allowed, but fishing is encouraged.

While fishing helps keep Andros on the tourist map, the sightseeing and points of interest found here soon become a prime reason to extend your stay. The island features numerous blue holes, including several found inland like Capt. Bill’s, Cousteau’s and Uncle Charlie’s, all accessible from various points on the island.

King Kong’s Cavern is a huge ocean blue hole near Small Hope Bay, and the Conch Sound blue hole can be reached from the beach. Both consist of labyrinthine cave complexes that spiral out from the mouth.

The people of Red Bays, considered the oldest settlement on Andros, are thought to be direct descendants of the Florida Black Seminoles, who landed here seeking refuge in 1821. Today, the community thrives as a center for all things cultural—with sponge farmers, basket weavers and wood carvers at work and selling their wares.

Private boat owners can make the 130-mile run from South Florida to North Andros with a quick landfall at Bimini to clear Bahamian Customs. However yacht services on Andros remain sparse with the Lighthouse Yacht Club and Marina in Andros Town and Kamalame Cay Resort Marina among the few available.

For fly-in travelers, four airports serve Andros, bringing passengers on either scheduled or chartered flights with specialty airlines. A ferry service also brings visitors from Nassau.

With so much cultural history and natural beauty, in addition to great offshore and inshore fishing, Andros Island ranks as a true angler’s paradise.

Click here to learn more about Andros!

The post Andros Island: An Offshore and Inshore Fishing Mecca appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Although these 13 hot spots aren’t the only places in the world to go for great sailfishing, they’re among the best bets to find the best sailfishing in the world. By any measure, in various respects, each deserves close consideration.

Note that the destinations have been ordered not by relative merit, since our goal is not to rate these spots but to help you compare them and what each offers. I’ve divided them into three groups per the oceans where you can find the best places to catch sailfish, within each grouping more-or-less based on distance from the United States.

Atlantic Ocean

Florida — Southeast to Upper Keys

While some of the best sailfish action occurs in remote or exotic locales, in fact, you don’t have to travel across the globe for great fishing. The Florida Keys winter/spring fishery can offer world-class action, at times truly spectacular. Consider a winter tournament with 24 boats tallying 424 sailfish releases over two days. Serious sail anglers look for north winds driven by frontal systems. The conditions get pretty rugged but that’s when you’ll find sails in abundant, scattered packs tailing down-sea. From Stuart north, anglers generally troll ballyhoo; to the south, live baits fished under kites or slow-trolled are the norm.

Why You Should Go: Hot sailfishing without leaving the country from January into May. The run to fish is often within 10 miles; for some areas (Palm Beach and adjacent) it might be just two or three. No shortage of charters, marinas, etc. At times, many exciting sight-casting/pitch-baiting opportunities.

But… Most sails run 30 to 50 pounds, so fish light. Weekends might get a bit crowded in popular areas offshore.

Contact: Capt. Randy Yates in West Palm Beach; Capt. Ray Rosher in Miami; Capt. Greg Eklund in Islamorada, Florida Keys (Note: There’s a wealth of many excellent skippers/charters up and down this coast.)

Mexico — Isla Mujeres

Just off the Yucatan Peninsula, this small, personable island is a short ferry ride from Cancun. For many years, its waters have produced fabulous underwater photography showing hordes of sailfish decimating huge bait balls; anglers look for just such scenarios during the January-to-June peak season for sails.

Why You Should Go: When bait abounds, action on the grounds can be dramatic and ferocious. Long runs to fish are rare. Minimal time commitment or cost is required to get here, generally (just two hours from Miami).

But… Winds can be blustery and seas rugged when sails are thickest. Isla sails are generally of modest size. Fishing live baits is illegal for foreign boats, so most troll ballyhoo.

Contact: Capt. Anthony Mendillo Jr. at Keen M International

West Africa — Senegal

On the Cape Verde Peninsula, this westernmost, French-speaking city offers the potential for great action all summer and well into the fall.

Why You Should Go: Anglers can rack up big numbers of sails off Senegal while enjoying a relatively safe and very exotic African experience. Charters generally work at modest rates and the run to fish is often short.

But… You’ll need a day plus to travel to Dakar, and $3,000 to $4,000 for round-trip airfare from Miami makes it rather costly among Atlantic sailfish hotspots.

Contact: Atlantic Evasion

West Africa — Angola

When it comes to Atlantic sailfish, Angola has long been associated with big fish since the current all-tackle world-record Atlantic sailfish of 142 pounds, 6 ounces, was taken here in 2014, along with most of the 100-plus-pound records. This is one reason that interest in Angola remains high among sailfish enthusiasts. Globe-trotting anglers say these sails fight noticeably harder than Pacific sails of similar size.

Why You Should Go: Triple-digit sails aren’t at all unlikely. Seas are usually flat and the run to fish short; sport-fishing pressure is light. Blue marlin in the 500-pound range prowl the same waters (and frequently take sailfish baits).

But… Not a place for numbers like Guatemala or Malaysia, but an angler can expect two to eight shots typically, and 10- to 20-shot days are definitely not unheard of (and these are big fish). While good to check the U.S. State Department’s travel advisories for the latest, in recent years Angola has been listed as a level 1 (“normal precautions”).

Contact: Iain Nicolson in Luanda)

Pacific Ocean

Mexico — East Cape, Baja California Sur

Baja’s East Cape doesn’t offer sails in numbers like some Central American hotspots; however, it’s close and easy to reach, and generally has far better odds for big sails than most people realize plus, of course, outstanding mixed-bag fishing.

Why You Should Go: An affordable option for shots at triple-digit sails, commonly 60 to 120 pounds, in waters very often very calm. A long season runs most of spring through midautumn. Super slams are possible with black, striped and blue marlin common here. Travel costs are reasonable, and fishing packages at resorts can be excellent.

But… Not a spot to rack up numbers. Charters often run some distance — 10 to 30 miles — to the fish.

Contact: Jen Wren Sportfishing and Hotel Palmas de Cortez

Guatemala — Iztapa

No spot in the world is more renowned for its sailfishing than Guatemala. That’s not surprising when given the often-phenomenal and at times nonstop action anglers can enjoy here.

Why You Should Go: On better days (and these are often), you can expect at least 20 shots and sometimes many, many more. And these are big fish – running 80 to 105 pounds for the most part. But wait, there’s more: Most of the time, the Pacific here is calm. Travel costs from the states will set you back neither an arm nor a leg. Outstanding boats and crews, experienced for light-tackle and fly-rod bait/switch action.

But… Expectations can run too high; even here there are no guarantees, and off-days do happen. The run to find fish might be quite close but at times could be 20 to 40 miles or more.

Contact: Casa Vieja Lodge

El Salvador

El Salvador offers sailfish action comparable to its neighbor, Guatemala, though far fewer boats fish these waters, which has been mostly off the radar for American anglers.Why You Should Go: During the long (October through March) season, expect 15 to 20 shots on a typical day, mostly with light winds and big fish (the same size as Guatemala’s). You’re unlikely to see any other boats fishing sails. Excellent concentrations of marlin at times.

But… Unlike Guatemala, good and reliable charters are few. The run to fish can be 30-plus miles.

Contact: Blue Sail Sportfishing Charters

Costa Rica — Los Sueños

From December through August (excluding May, which is often slower), sailfishing can be hot off the central Costa Rica coast. In fact, Costa Rica’s Pacific coast offers great fishing opportunities throughout the year, from Golfito in the south to Papagayo in the north, with an abundance of great resorts, marinas and charters.

Why You Should Go: Again, expect very big eastern Pacific sails to be the norm, up to 120 pounds and sometimes much larger. Ocean conditions vary widely by area and season, and while they can be rough, more often the Pacific is tranquil. Costa Rica prides itself on being accessible and inviting to tourists, with travel generally easy and safe. Plenty of options await for other big-game pelagics, in particular at times for tremendous blue marlin action around seamounts in the summer.

But… Seasonal incursions of cold or green water can shut down sailfishing at times anywhere along the country’s coast.

Contact: Will Drost at Maverick Costa Rica

Panama — Piñas Bay

Time it so you’re here when sails are whacking sardines (mostly likely to happen May through July), and you’ll enjoy triple and quad hookups. December and January are good alternative months for sails. Just watch out for grander marlin (both blacks and blues) here as well — Tropic Star boats hook ’em. Many line-class record sails, to nearly 200 pounds, have been weighed in here.

Why You Should Go: Calm waters, big sails and often very short runs to lines-in all make for world-class sailfishing when timed right. Staying at famed Tropic Star Lodge is a bonus. Quick flight down to Panama City at affordable rates. Outstanding boats/crews for anglers looking to sight-cast, pitching baits or casting flies to sails.

But… Fabulous lodge though no bargain rates, nor are there less-pricey alternatives in the area. Overnight in Panama City generally required en route and sometimes when returning to the states as well.

Contact: Tropic Star Lodge

Tonga — Vava’u

A search of Google Maps will show the geographically impaired that the Kingdom of Tonga lies northeast of New Zealand, about halfway to the equator. For most of us, that’s a long way to go to catch a sailfish, but some of the world’s biggest reputedly prowl these waters. Effort for the species remains minimal.

Why You Should Go: Not a bad place to look for a world record; the men’s 50-pound line-class record of 210 1/2 pounds was taken here, with sails larger than the all-tackle record 221 pounds (from Ecuador) probably caught but never weighed. The run to start fishing can be fairly short and often begins working along steep reef edges — where you may catch big yellowfin and wahoo as well (and of course closer to the reefs, dogtooth tuna and giant trevally).

But… During the best sailfish season (winter in the southern hemisphere), 15- to 20-knot tradewinds blow constantly. Also, given Tonga’s remote location, figure many hours of travel to get there (via Auckland or Sydney).

Contact: Capt. Steve Campbell at Blue Marlin Magic Sport Fishing Adventures

Indian Ocean

East Africa — Kenya

For decades, anglers have come to Watamu on the coast of Kenya in pursuit of western Indian Ocean sails. The warm northern Kaskazi winds blow October through March, maintaining water temps favorable for sails, and around shallow ledges (Malindi and Mambrui) and Watamu Banks, baitfish aggregate attracting sails as well as other pelagic gamefish.

Why You Should Go: Don’t like long runs to fish? Here, lines can go in as little as a mile from the beach. Seas stay calm mostly and crowds are nil. These waters are also known for nighttime swordfishing. Charters are cheap.

But… Not so cheap is the airfare to Nairobi, which will set you back in the vicinity of a couple grand.

Contact: Hemingways Watamu

Malaysia — Kuala Rompin

With conditions on the South China Sea off Malaysia’s ¬southeast coast seldom rougher than your average farm pond, Rompin is very possibly the world’s calmest sailfish hot spot. And hot it has been, since gaining fame as one of the best places on the planet for sailfish (running 50 to 80 pounds) within the past decade years (Sport Fishing was one of the first to feature the fishery in its March 2009 issue).

Why You Should Go: Enjoy quiet fishing, drifting live baits with engines off. Most days you’ll see birds and sails on top of the mirror-smooth sea, and enjoy many multiple hookups. Package trips include ground transportation (from Singapore or Kuala Lumpur), accommodations, meals (with to-die-for dinners) and fishing (including top-quality conventional reels) generally with guides who speak English fluently — and priced to make this one of sailfishing’s best bargains. Plus you’ll experience a ¬fascinating and hospitable corner of Asia.

But… The fairly short season lasts from mid-July through October. The shallow, expansive sea offers minimal bycatch of other large game fish. Some operations rely on traditional wooden, open boats that offer shade and space, and work well for fishing here; however, if your taste runs to convertible sportfishers, such operators are also here, now. Allow day plus and two grand for travel.

Contact: Dom Pereira at Billseeker Sportfishing (specializes in fly and light tackle); Blue Oceans Adventures (for larger boats)

Western Australia — Broome

Although known historically more for pearls than sailfish, in angling circles, this small city (pop. 18,000) on Australia’s northwest coast offers reliable odds for memorable Indian Ocean sailfish action during the season, beginning sometime in May and running into November.

Read Next: Top 100 Game Fish

Why You Should Go: Great light-tackle action; many skippers play the bait-and-switch game, so sight-casting opportunities abound. No worries about competition on the grounds here. It’s also a gateway to the amazing Kimberley in Australia’s far Northwest with breathtaking scenery and barramundi fishing. Also check out multiday trips to the incredible Rowley Shoals, 160 miles offshore.

But… Expect a long run of 10 to 35 or more miles over shallow waters to reach sailfish grounds. You’ll find good numbers of fish but of moderate size, running 30 to 70 pounds. And you’ll drop a couple thousand to get here, logging 30 to 40 hours of travel time (about 10,000 miles) from the U .S. each way.

Contact: Capt. Chris Nisbet at Broome Billfish Charters

The post The World’s Best Sailfish Spots appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

When it comes to well-known fishing sites, the Bahamas suffers no shortage. But Walker’s Cay transcends merely “well-known”: For anglers in the U.S. and beyond, its name has conferred a legendary, near-mythical status.

A number of considerations account for this, among them Walker’s:

• location (its proximity to the U.S., barely over 100 miles from West Palm Beach and for many the first entry point into the islands);
• fishing opportunities (varied and productive, with blue water close by, surrounded by unspoiled reefs and a myriad of tiny islands encircled by bonefish-rich flats); and
• history (for decades, Walker’s was the most popular destination in the Abacos and arguably the Bahamas, developing a world-famous reputation in part as the base of world-class tournaments such as the Bertram-Hatteras ShootOut).

So it’s no stretch to say that among American anglers who fish the islands, Walker’s is a revered place. Take a look at comments in forums and social media (including, notably, a Walker’s Cay Facebook page started by, quite literally, a fan). Example: “They say you can never go home again, but I wish we could go back … and have one more trip to Walker’s.”

Here’s another comment from one of the thousands of Walker’s fans:

“One of my very first memories of the Bahamas was coming to Walker’s when I was 12.”

That particular comment is from the only man in the world who can say to those who similarly love Walker’s: You can go home again — Walker’s Cay is coming back as a renowned destination for sport fishing.

This is because that man, Carl Allen, happens to own Walker’s. On May 20th of this year, he signed on the dotted line, acquiring Walker’s Cay.

As word leaked out, speculation on the internet and social media about what this might mean ran rampant. One worrisome scenario suggested the new owner could be a wealthy eccentric who will keep the island for and to himself.

Allen is wealthy — as you might suspect, by your standards and mine, incredibly so — but the millionaire and philanthropist from Texas is by no stretch an eccentric.

I can say that, since I was fortunate enough to spend a couple of days with Allen and his wife, Gigi, on their 164-foot super yacht, named after his spouse (for whom it was a recent birthday gift), anchored at Walker’s. Allen comes across as a regular guy, witty and gracious.

He also comes across as a guy with a vision — that of restoring Walker’s to its former glory, vis-à-vis a campaign he calls “Walker’s Reborn 2020.”

That’s the year Carl and Gigi hope to have the island restored and then some, with a wealth of improvements completed, including a new marina, and when he hopes to begin putting on four major, annual tournaments, starting with a white marlin event in April or May of 2020.

Allen recalls fondly the heyday of great tournaments once based in Walkers, certainly including the prestigious Bertram-Hatteras Shootouts.

And even though an event schedule is far from settled, Allen enthusiastically says at this point he would love to see a blue marlin tournament in early summer, a fall wahoo tourney and a winter event TBD but possibly for yellowfin and dolphin.

“I’ve been working with Skip Smith,” Allen says, referencing one of the Florida’s most experienced tournament captains and organizers, in Palm Beach. “Our marina will [be designed to] accommodate tournament vessels.”

It will also accommodate larger vessels: Allen plans to have 65 slips that will accept anything from center consoles to 90-foot sport-fishers, as well as moorage for six yachts to 180 feet. Large boats should enjoy 14 feet beneath their hulls at low tide. “There’s a channel there already,” he says. “It’s just a matter of cleaning it out.” And replacing anchored pilings will be floating docks, which Allen plans to build to handle a storm surge of up to 10 to 12 feet.

How Walker’s was almost entirely demolished in 2004 including a hotel and the marina, after being clobbered by two hurricanes (Frances and Jean), is in the background of Allen’s plans, which will allow for future storms. Since then — until now — the island has been deserted and abandoned.

Over decades prior to the hurricanes’ devastation, Walker’s had developed a considerable history particularly during Robert Abplanalp’s ownership since 1968. The inventor of the aerosol valve used in spray cans developed the island as a destination for sport fishing. It also proved a haven for many celebrities, including Abplanalp’s good friend, Richard Nixon.

While Walker’s has earned fame for its blue-water and reef fishing, the inshore opportunities are, not surprisingly, outstanding. There’s history here, too, particularly thanks to Flip Pallot’s long-running, popular TV series, The Walker’s Cay Chronicles, which showed the great opportunities to fly-cast to bonefish, permit, tarpon, sharks and more.

During my brief visit to Walker’s, I happened to fish out of what was, until recently, Flip Pallot’s Hell’s Bay skiff. Allen explained to me how it came to be there. After dark, on a calm evening last’ summer, Pallot and a companion ran it over to Walker’s, across the Gulf Stream, from the coast of Florida. (They did have a support boat, a larger center console, but as it turned out, needed little support.) Allen suggested to Pallot that he return by some more comfortable means, offering to buy Pallot’s Hells Bay then and there, which he really could use, anyway. And so he did just that.

While, as one would expect, the bonefishing is superb on the flats surrounding Walker’s, the prospect of too much pressure on these accessible shallows once the island is truly up and running and attracting anglers again from all over troubles Allen. One salvation might be the number of small islands and rocky patches that extend from northwest of Walker’s southeast to Grand Cay — with names like Sit Down Cay, Little Walkers, Gully Rocks, Tom Brown’s Cay, Seal Cay, Conchshell Cay and others. All of these offer more flats, barely fished, where skinny-water stalkers can find “some amazing schools of aggressive bonefish,” Allen points out, including some monsters (he cites one he caught sight of, initially thinking it was a barracuda). And then there is Sal Cay to the south. Allen has already enjoyed some “incredible” sight-casting for tarpon in the clear waters.

For Allen, Walker’s will also serve as a base of operations for Allen Exploration. Ever since a visit decades ago to the museum of famed treasure hunter Mel Fisher in Key West, Allen has been hooked on hunting for artifacts (and history) buried under the ocean floor.

Allen is fiercely determined to use his resources — which include a Triton submarine on his 180-foot Damen support vessel — that can dive to 3,300 feet with a pilot and two passengers sitting under a large acrylic dome — to investigate and document the movement of trash in the ocean. “My biggest concern: microplastics,” he says, noting how pervasive these ubiquitous, tiny beads of plastic have become. “We find them now in [deepwater] golden tilefish. Microplastics could dwarf concerns such as Mercury.”

But such interests and activities don’t shift Allen’s focus far from his ongoing efforts to restore Walker’s. And the Bahamian government is all about that. In 2014, according to a report in The Abaconian, Khaalis Rolle, minister of state for investments, said, “I believe [restoration of Walker’s Cay] would be great for the Bahamas if it does happen. … in it’s heyday, [Walker’s] was the most popular boating spot in the Bahamas… a boater’s paradise and contributed a lot of economic activity.”

That economic activity is never far from Allen’s thoughts. “I envision this rebuild as a partnership with Bahamians to create jobs — good-paying and secure jobs, strengthen families and develop a lasting economic driver for future generations.”

It’s Allen’s intention to have the island restored to its former glory in 2020. That, he says, will mean fuel, water and electricity for boaters; a liquid natural gas plant to replace unsightly, polluting, noisy power by diesel; a “giant desalinization plant” that will take water from below a shelf, 80 feet below the surface, and not the ocean surrounding the island; villas; a new customs office; charter and guide boats; and more.

Watch for a full feature in Sport Fishing magazine closer to the island’s re-opening that in photos and text will describe the island in its new iteration and the great fishing opportunities in blue water, over the reefs and on the flats.

In some respects, I found the best news to be not what the new owner of Walker’s Cay is doing, but what he is not doing. Carl Allen is not clearing off the island, surrounding it with cement seawalls and covering it with a luxury high-rise hotel. “I’m not in it for the money,” he says. “Look, I already hit my home run.” For that, anglers from all over who visited and fished Walker’s in its heyday, as I did, say thank you.

For all those anglers who have considered Walker’s a destination of the past, stand by: Very soon, you can go “home” again.

The post Bahamas’ Walker’s Cay to Reopen appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Chris Russell is one of those guys who seems born ready: By the time the skiff sat where guide Kessel Cooper planned to anchor it atop the shallows, before I had even put on my second wading shoe, Russell — marketing manager for Plano — had hopped over the gunwale. He walked slowly, holding a light rod with a Quantum Smoke Inshore 25 spinning reel poised for action. Russell had gone maybe 50 feet when Cooper, standing in the skiff, pointed out a shadow, faint in the gray light under heavily overcast skies early on that October morning. The angler made his cast, and the hermit crab on a light-wire snelled hook dropped 10 feet or so beyond the shadow. “Reel, reel!” Cooper urged, sotto voce. “Now stop. Stop it!”

Russell stood motionless. Still sitting in the skiff, I saw his rod tip start to bend slightly. He released the light braided line with his index finger to remove all tension, and maybe 10 seconds later, set up on what was at that moment a chrome flash to my eyes.

With a shout suggesting he’d just won a few million dollars in some lottery, Russell worked to put the brakes on the trip’s first fish, and shortly after, he was releasing a permit of modest proportions.

A Really Cool Place

That catch, made before the other three anglers in the group had even started fishing, seemed to bode well for our Roatan fishing adventure.

We had made the trip to the large island of Roatan, some 40 miles off the coast of Honduras, not really knowing what to expect. That accounted for part of the appeal of the adventure. Most of us had visited some of the better-known fishing destinations in the western Caribbean, but — like many anglers — none of us knew much about Roatan.

Our expectations included some great flats-fishing and the chance to spend a few days in a really, really cool place called Mango Creek Lodge. It’s hard to imagine anyone seeing photos of this unique, rather whimsical little resort and not finding it appealing, with its brightly colored round cabins built over turtle-grass beds in clear Caribbean waters.

In some ways, Roatan is more obscure than remote: After all, it’s only a two-hour flight south of Miami. It sits at the southern end of what’s known as the Mesoamerican Barrier Reef System, one of the largest such reefs in the world, stretching more than 600 miles from Honduras north to the top of the Yucatan.

Accordingly, we brought gear both for the flats and for reef-fishing. (We already knew that some excellent fishing for pelagics could be found in the blue waters off the island, but we were curious about the extensive reefs, which also make Roatan a favorite with divers and snorkelers.)

But our first fishing day was all about the flats.

Bones All Around

We learned that day of several flats within an easy boat ride of the lodge, on the island’s east end. More-distant flats around the islands of Morat and Barbaretta can be fished but require a bit more time commitment to reach, since the lodge’s 16-foot, locally made skiffs powered by 40-horse outboards aren’t speedsters.

The V-hull boats, fairly heavy and bare-bones, lack any sort of poling ­platform. In fact, they’re used primarily to transport anglers to the flats where they stalk their quarry while wading, though they can also cast from the boats when fishing deeper water or around mangroves.

While fishing at Mango Creek is often a fly-fishing show, we had brought light spinning gear. I have done well in some areas fishing small white Gulp! tails for bonefish, but the ticket for action here seemed to be hermit crabs. Our guides, Cooper and Joevy Bodden, each had a bucket of the critters in his skiff. The crabs constantly dragged their shell homes around the bucket and occasionally managed to climb out.

All anglers that first day cast to and caught bonefish, some of respectable if not trophy size. None replicated Russell’s feat to land a permit, though we certainly saw more. Late in the morning, Andrew Cox, offshore community leader for Costa sunglasses, had his shot when the oversize permit he hooked took off unstoppably toward deeper water and severed the line on the edge of coral.

New Bucket-List Target

On another day, we fished the same group of flats but had to contend with intermittent rain. Russell, our king of permit, landed another, and we managed a few bonefish on the flat just across from the lodge (its brightly colored huts clearly visible).

What we didn’t catch ended up being a highlight of the day. This particular flat proved a good place to stalk big triggerfish tailing (seriously) around high tide in an area of very shallow water between the flats and the rocky edge where a chop washes in from deeper water.

Apparently, the triggers were willing to risk feeding so shallow, their tails and dorsal fins waving in the air to get a shot at goodies normally off-limits to them. But clearly it made them nervous: They were at least as spooky as permit; stalking them gave us many tense moments, but ultimately, we landed none.

But their agitation paled next to the coolest target of all, compared to which their color sure paled as well. At the very edge of a rocky border where the flats dropped off to deeper water, we could see enormous fish of probably 20 to 40 pounds in shockingly brilliant hues of scarlet and blue.

Our guides assured us that at times those rainbow parrotfish would eat a hermit crab, but getting a crab in front of them proved nearly impossible. With the slightest provocation, they’d explode in a shower of spray and disappear into deeper water. Once or twice I managed to cast beyond them (not easy into the wind while unable to get really close). Even then, the small crab sent them packing when it landed nearby. Another time, I managed to drop a hermit crab well beyond them, and attempted to reel it into the path they were following along the small surf line before they were past it. But spotting the crab moving their way was enough to make them scatter.

Bodden told us he has hooked a couple of these things on crabs. “No way could I stop them,” he said with a laugh. “Man, they’re even stronger than a big permit!”

My sight-fishing bucket list now includes a monster rainbow parrotfish.

Reefs Amaze, Flats Produce

While we could count stalking fish on the flats as a real success, our efforts at fishing the reefs beyond didn’t provide much to report. I can tell you that the waters are crystal clear and the amazing reefs appear lush, with great drop-offs. But despite our best efforts — not just with metal and bucktail jigs but with live pilchards as well — the total catch came to a skipjack, horse-eye jack, and one hefty barracuda landed by Van Staal’s Chris Littau. Admittedly we were at something of a disadvantage, without a working depth sounder, particularly trying to work the sharp ledges.

A better bet for an ­opportunity off the flats, we decided, would be fishing the mangrove channels for tarpon and snook. We spent a few hours doing just that, casting pilchards to the edges of the lush mangroves. Even though tide and conditions conspired against us, Russell nearly struck silver, but a small tarpon tossed the hook back to him in a monumental leap.

Read Next: Fish Caribbean Islands Casting Poppers and Stickbaits

Later that afternoon, we fished by a small island that appeared surreally sculpted from jagged rock. Russell hung what Cooper figured had to be either a larger tarpon or a snook of serious proportions, fishing the deep edges beneath the rock wall.

When all was said and done, we had to rate our adventure to fish Roatan as a success. The flats are ­productive and — though fished regularly by Mango Creek Lodge clientele — are seldom bothered otherwise, it seems. Moreover, I noted that they’re fabulously healthy, covered with carpets of thick turtle grass. For anyone who wants to combine flats-fishing with diving and/or just plain relaxing with a quiet, laid-back vibe, Roatan and Mango Creek get the job done.

Planning to Fish Roatan

Roatan is a steep, jungle-covered island nearly 50 miles in length and 5 miles at its widest. Coxen Hole, the main city, is often busy (there’s also a cruise-ship terminal there). But as one heads out of the city, the island’s beauty is evident, including spectacular white-sand beaches. English is the first language, though a modified form used by many traditional islanders can be tough to understand. The crystal-clear Caribbean surrounding Roatan and its reefs makes it a mecca for divers in particular. Its fishing opportunities remain far less well-known.

Mango Creek Lodge is located about a half-hour by lodge vehicle from the international airport (served by several major U.S. domestic airlines) in Coxen Hole, plus a 15-minute boat ride.

In six overwater cabanas and three rooms in a lodge on the hill behind, Mango Creek can accommodate as many as 26 guests, but there are usually fewer on hand. The cabanas, finished in rich tropical hardwoods, offer 360-degree windows (and a double screened door that opens directly onto the Caribbean) with ceiling fans. Mango Creek bills itself as an eco-resort, noting that solar energy generates about 80 percent of its power needs. The grounds are well-tended, with walking paths winding among many flowering and tropical-fruit trees and shrubs. Dinners at the lodge, prepared by Tita (spouse of lodge manager Manny Quiroz) struck us as innovative and genuinely fabulous.

While the majority of ­flats-fishing effort here comes from fly-rodders, spin-­fishermen are welcome. Either way, anglers should bring their favorite flats-fishing tackle with them. Specific suggestions for each of the primary species (bonefish, permit and tarpon) can be found on the lodge website under “Activities/Fishing.” You’ll want a good pair of wading shoes, of course.

For more information:
Mango Creek Lodge
mangocreeklodge.com

Roatan Tourism
honduras.travel

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But First! A Little Background: Fishing Poppers and Stickbaits, An Indo-Pacific Phenomenon

Globe-trotting anglers who love to throw lures and sight-fish for a great variety of saltwater game fish associate that fishery mostly with Indo-Pacific reefs. That’s where they can expect to hook up with bad boys of the reefs such as giant trevally, red bass (the aggressive snapper Lutjanus bohar), dogtooth tuna, coral trout, potato grouper, barracuda — you name it.

Using top-shelf spinning gear, anglers fishing these Pacific destinations cast expensive lures in hopes of provoking toothy critters, looking in particular for unforgettable, explosive surface action.

Caribbean Islands: Sight-casters’ Undiscovered Heaven

So yeah, I’ve been there (to many Pacific and Indian Ocean locations) and done that sight-casting thing, but I’ve been elsewhere and done it also — notably around the islands and reefs of the eastern tropical Atlantic. True, the primary draw for many sport fishermen visiting the Caribbean from the United States is fishing blue water and flats. But large areas of deep flats, channels and reefs of rock or coral reefs, found between shore and deeper drop-offs, aren’t fished as much by visiting anglers, especially those who cast and retrieve lures.

This fishery is simply not on the radar of many local guides, who often have no clue about the effective and exciting technique of fishing lures around reefs and shallows. When predators including snappers, groupers, jacks, tarpon, barracuda and others are hunting nearshore waters, all can be suckers for a well-presented lure, throughout the Caribbean — including the Bahamas, Cuba, Trinidad, Mexico’s Yucatan and the cays of Belize and Honduras, as well as many other islands.

“The Lip is Broken Off Your Lure!”

In Caribbean waters, inshore guides often are primarily fly-fishing specialists. They may have little knowledge of lures such as poppers and stickbaits. “The lip is broken off your lure!” is a comment I’ve heard more than once from guides seeing my stickbait who are not familiar with plugs other than diving Rapalas with plastic lips.

I heard just such a comment most recently during a visit to the British Virgin Islands, a lovely paradise at the top of the Leeward Island chain. It was September, the weather was superb, and I had the islands largely to myself. The first morning, my guide stopped his 35-foot center console in a small cove to catch live bait.

I had already tied a 4-inch stickbait to my 30-pound spinning outfit. I threw it out near some pelicans, twitched it twice, and a 30-pound tarpon jumped several times before throwing the lure. A few more casts resulted in another missed tarpon and two nice bar jacks.

We moved on that morning to fish stretches of beautiful coral reef. The water was so clear, it reminded me of atolls of the Indian Ocean. Hard-fighting horse-eye and bar jacks, as well as barracuda, large yellowtail snapper and more species, grabbed my lures. I also lost some unidentified creatures that made off with two of my favorite stickbaits.

In light of the fact that we were just a half-mile from the marina, such hectic action was a nice surprise. The guide admitted he had never caught so many fish so quickly without live baits (which he seemed to forget all about that morning). Thus began three days of exciting fishing around reefs that, surprisingly, probably had never been seriously plugged before.

This experience offered further proof that light-tackle enthusiasts, prepared with the right gear to explore islands in the Antilles and elsewhere in the Caribbean, can find memorable action on hard lures.

The Caribbean’s Jurassic Park for Plug Fishermen

In the early 2000s, Cuba was the first eastern Atlantic destination to which anglers (particularly from Europe) brought serious popping gear with the clear intention of catching big fish like cubera snapper. Huge marine areas around Cuba had been isolated for decades with minimal access or fishing pressure; many Cubans don’t own boats, and there are no modern tackle shops around.

As a result, many fish live long and grow big in these famous protected zones dedicated to divers and fishermen from abroad. Most of the fishing boats available are flat skiffs and can’t easily venture onto deeper reefs, though they offer fishing of world-class dimensions in terms of the variety and size of fish.

A Procession of Game Fish

With small surface and subsurface plugs on the deep flats, channels and shallow reefs (to 20 feet), you can find jacks, ‘cudas, baby tarpon, mutton snapper, young goliath grouper and cubera. These game fish offer great sport on 30-pound tackle.

But if I were casting larger lures over deeper reefs (say, 30 feet or more), I’d think twice before casting with a light rod. Monster cubera and big black and gag grouper patrol those waters. If you don’t have strong, giant trevally-class tackle, and lack much experience battling big fish “street fight-style,” you’ll likely lose your lures and could harm trophy fish.

When fishing big lures along these reef edges, you have no idea what will come up to grab them. It could be a 15-pound jack that ends up being swallowed by a giant cubera seconds after you hook it.

One of those jack attacks happened in the Gardens of the Kings, a chain of keys on the north coast, while we fished a sandy flat, looking for large barracuda. Near Cabo San Antonio, at the western tip of Cuba, we were trying for snapper along a reef drop-off when a school of 15 or 20 AJs showed up and charged all our lures at the same time. Things quickly become chaotic, but at least we were using strong GT rods. Even so, hooking a 50-pound amberjack five feet from the rod tip is something brutal.

Gear That Gives You a Fighting Chance

At best, an angler still makes an awful lot of casts, on average, to hook a prize like a cubera. It’s a shame, then, to lose the fish before getting a good look at it, and if the fish breaks off, you’ve also lost an expensive lure (and, especially if the barbs are still on the hooks, you might have doomed the fish as well).

Guides don’t always have the time or experience to move a boat quickly enough to help the angler keep a big fish away from rocks, caves or coral heads. You need to lock down the drag (at 30 pounds or more) and stop such fish in their tracks. A GT rod with a large, high-end spinning reel, using 100-pound braid, will give you a fighting chance.

When I throw lures around Cuba’s deeper reefs, I generally use 120-pound PowerPro. Lures designed for giant trevally, with the strongest split rings and treble hooks or in-line singles, should hold up. I’ve seen too many anglers relying on 50-pound-test lose nearly every big fish they hook.

Bahamas — Best of Inshore Variety

As most anglers are aware, the Bahamas archipelago is a true paradise for fly-fishermen looking for bonefish. But when it comes to fishing plugs, the potential of these waters is overlooked. Lightweight bucktail jigs, used to target small snapper for dinner, are the only lures I’ve seen in most guides’ boxes, whether at Grand Bahama, Andros or Crooked islands, or the Acklins.

Yet the opportunity the Bahamas offers for light-tackle fishing is immense. Anglers can expect mutton snapper, monster barracuda, smaller tarpon, horse-eye jacks, bar jacks, blacktip and lemon sharks, Nassau grouper, cero or king mackerel, and on and on. I was amazed by the variety of fish I caught while blind-casting lures around shallow reefs (and even in marinas), and I had incredible fun sight-fishing the flats, particularly for big, laid-up barracuda (which are truly explosive in such skinny water).

As one example of the islands’ potential, last February I was invited to spend four days exploring Long Island’s great bonefishing. Sustained north winds, however, had cooled the flats. The bones were hanging off the flats in deeper waters; we caught a few to 8 pounds, but fishing was tough.

Parting Act

On the last morning during my most recent Bahamas trip, before I had to hop on the plane to Nassau, I picked up my spinning rod and box of lures and went for a walk along the rocky beach on the island’s eastern shore, below Stella Maris Resort. Here deep water is close to the rocks. The weather had become superb, the ocean totally and unseasonably flat, and I had this part of Long Island to myself.

I started heaving out a Cordell pencil popper and was rewarded with immediate action from hungry ’cudas. I tried a Williamson Speed Pro Deep, an excellent plug for casting, and immediately caught a beautiful Nassau grouper.

Right after I released the grouper, I spotted a big triggerfish cruising near the surface and tossed a floating stickbait in front of it. I let the lure sit motionless, and the trigger pounced on it, sucking in the rear hook. It was game on.

Afterward, my fourth fish raised was yet another species. Throwing a Williamson popper, I watched a reef shark in triple digits charge — and miss — it, leaving my hands shaking.

The last fish I hooked in the short time I had that morning came in behind that same popper, perhaps 20 yards from shore and in water not much more than 10 feet deep. In a huge swirl of water, it attacked the lure. That wasn’t unlike strikes I’ve experienced fishing GTs in the Seychelles. I saw it well enough to recognize an amberjack of possibly 50 pounds. Had I been in a boat and using heavier gear, I might have had a chance, but this brute charged out on a hundred-yard run before the line passed over a rock, and that was all she wrote.

After that taste, I hope to get back someday and, in a boat with a guide, cast big plugs along the wild side of Long Island.

Caribbean Snappers

Once hooked, muttons rush to find shelter in a cave, under a rock or a coral head, or even in a hole in the sand. Using 30-pound braid is a minimum if you are targeting muttons of 10 pounds or more. Unlike their cousin the cubera, which prefers a slow retrieve and frequent pauses, muttons are prone to going after sinking stickbaits worked with dynamic twitches (pauses too long give these sharp-eyed fish time to rethink the wounded baitfish). They also respond well to lipped diving minnows the size of big sardines, and where muttons remain abundant, they will take surface lures.

Pick Your Plugs

Stick baits cast long distances and swim with an underwater walk-the-dog motion, typically just a bit below the surface. For lighter duty, 4- to 5-inch sinking Sebile Stick Shadds, Shimano Orcas and the like will turn on everything from yellowtail snapper to big tarpon. Floating stickbaits might be less effective overall but are more fun. Besides the classic red-and-white Zara Super Spook, there are many other options, including floating models of the Stick Shadd and Orca, as well as the Rapala X-Rap Walk.

Leader Lore

Forget wire leaders; 2½ feet of fluorocarbon or hard mono is better. You might lose a few lures to the teeth of barracuda or king mackerel if you’re unlucky, but you’ll have plenty of bites, and it will be easier to control fish boat-side. Connect braid to leader with an FG knot. When fishing 30-pound line, I use 50-pound fluoro and check it after every fish or strike. With heavy tackle, using 100-pound braid, for cuberas, don’t go under 150- or even 200-pound-test for leader.

Crimped sleeves offer an alternative to tying a loop knot with very heavy mono leaders, though not a lot of anglers use them. (But in any case, I like to carry a big Hi-Seas crimping plier because it will cut through a large hook and adds a measure of safety when fishing remote areas.)

Hooks

With most smaller plugs out of the package, the standard treble hooks will last about two seconds if you hook even a 10-pound snapper on 30-pound line. Plan to replace the hooks (and split rings) from the get-go with strong hardware, as this Caribbean-reef plugger has done.

For heavy poppers and sinking stickbaits, you should have 250-pound split rings and serious trebles, or the biggest single jig hooks rigged with a short 300-pound assist cord. (Don’t forget to carry pliers designed to open heavy split rings.)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The post Fish Caribbean Islands Casting Poppers and Stickbaits appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

The galactic splendor of the Milky Way lit up the pre-dawn sky as I lay in a beanbag in the aft cockpit of Alex Laing’s Jupiter 34 FS, White Noise, and reveled in the magic of a night passage. Now more than 100 miles from our starting point on the island of Grand Cayman, we aimed for a small and desolate seamount in the western reaches of the Caribbean, a bank closer to the waters of Honduras than those of our home port.

A half-hour later, Laing pulled back the throttles on the twin Yamaha F350 outboards. I pulled myself from the beanbag and glimpsed the purple glow of a new day on the eastern horizon. No other boats in sight.

After a four-hour run, we had reached our target: the 110 Bank, named for its distance in nautical miles from Grand Cayman. Running around from the back side of the island added another 30 nautical miles to our passage. The sun would soon rise. Now was the time to see what ­dividends this bank had to offer.

Some of the crew, including Jupiter Marine president Todd Albrecht and Sport Fishing publisher Dave Morel, had been up for hours. Waking with me were Cayman Islands residents Nathan Day and Joe Pearce. “That was a pretty nice trip,” said Pearce, general manager of Pro Yacht, the Jupiter Marine boat dealer in the Caymans. Laing’s 34 had sliced smoothly through the three-foot head seas en route to our far-flung fishing spot, the cushy ride giving me a chance to nod off between moments of stargazing.

Rolling waves smoothed abruptly by upwelling currents provided evidence that we floated atop a high spot in the ocean floor. The big question on our minds: Were there fish here?

Tournament Driven

What drove us to run so far from the idyllic beaches of Grand Cayman? Pursuit of tournament glory. This was the second of the four-day 18th annual Cayman Islands International Fishing Tournament, a competition staged each April under the auspices of the Cayman Islands Angling Club. I had the pleasure of joining the crew aboard White Noise for a couple of days during the 2015 event.

Twenty-four hours earlier, our morning aboard White Noise had started quite differently. Rather than departing in the dead of night and greeting the morning on a vast, empty ocean, our team had joined a throng of boats in Grand Cayman’s bustling main port of Georgetown Harbor. We lingered amid anchored cruise ships and more than 30 other sport-fishing boats of every shape and size, talking and laughing with other captains, awaiting the official Bimini start of the tournament while cruise ship passengers waved to us from their stateroom balconies above.

The tournament director’s voice crackled over the VHF, and the boats lined up for the start. Time to go. Boats pinned their throttles and raced out of the harbor, en route to their chosen fishing spots.

Our boat joined the spectacle, but soon we peeled off, as Laing had decided to hang close to the island on the first day in pursuit of mahi and wahoo. He headed southwest, looking for productive weed lines and bird activity less than a mile off the island.

The idea of trolling for bluewater species so close to shore puzzled me, particularly because these islands lie so low. The average elevation of the 22-mile-long Grand Cayman, for example, is just 79 feet. For comparison, Florida’s mean elevation is 100 feet.

I assumed Cayman’s inshore waters were correspondingly shallow.

Precipitous Shores

A review of a bathymetric chart for the waters surrounding Grand Cayman and its sister isles of Little Cayman and Cayman Brac reveals the true nature of these marine habitats and fisheries. Despite the low terrain, the islands are actually mountaintops, plateaus of the Cayman Ridge that rise precipitously from depths as great as 20,000 feet along the Cayman Trench to the south.

Formed over the eons by tectonic collisions between the North American and Caribbean plates, the ridge stretches more than 930 miles from Cuba’s Sierra Maestra Mountains to the Gulf of Honduras. So these islands are essentially the exposed portions of seamounts, like the 110 Bank, but supersize.

Marine currents swirl upward from adjacent depths and sweep across the submarine slopes of the islands, creating upwellings that nurture copious plankton to form the foundation for a rich marine ecosystem and, at times, spectacular fishing. Here you might find blue marlin, mahi, ­swordfish, tuna and wahoo.

Since you need not run far to enjoy these conditions, boats as small as 20 feet can get in on the action. In fact, a number of wahoo have been caught in the shadows of the cruise ships in Georgetown Harbor, including a 133-pound ’hoo weighed a couple of weeks before the 2015 tournament.

Anglers also deep-drop for daytime swordfish in depths of 1,000 feet or more, while drifting less than a mile off the world-famous Seven Mile Beach north of the harbor. Later in our trip, we watched while one of our Jupiter 34 sister ships, Volatility, battled a swordy astonishingly close to the beach. Unfortunately, the hook pulled two hours into the fight.

Nearby Mahi

Trolling close to the island on day one paid off for us when we spotted a quartet of frigate birds descending rapidly near a weed line. Laing swung the wheel over hard to place the trolling lines under the frigates, and within seconds, a mahi attacked the port rigger line. Albrecht picked up the rod to battle the brightly colored, high-flying bull mahi from the aft deck. We iced it in one of two 104-gallon fish lockers below the aft deck. It turned out to be the first of seven dolphinfish we would catch on our first day of tournament action.

In addition to working weed lines close to the island, we trolled out to a spot called the 12-Mile Bank, west of Georgetown, where we hoped for a marlin, tuna or wahoo to round out the day, but ended up finding even more mahi.

At the weigh-in at the Barcadere Marina in the southwest corner of Grand Cayman’s North Sound, we discovered our biggest fish weighed 28 pounds, putting us on the board for the time being. With 59 boats — including teams from the other two islands — and three more days of tournament fishing, Laing felt we had to up our game and add more species to our tally. He felt the need to go long and fish waters where few other boats dare venture.

Bank On It

Try a Google search of “banks of the Cayman Islands,” and you’ll find a raft of advertisements for places to stash your money. The Caymans have long been known as a financial haven for those wishing to minimize taxes and hoard secret funds.

Yet for anglers, the real treasure lies in the banks that rise from the ocean floor around these islands, and there are a few. Our crew had a choice between the 60 Bank, Pickle Bank and the 110 Bank. After gathering as much intel as he could, Laing decided to go to the most distant of these, the 110.

After catching a couple of hours of sleep at the hotel, we met at the dock at 1:30 a.m. the next day and were underway by 2:30. The crew set trolling lines shortly before sunrise, pulling rigged ballyhoo from the outriggers and one flat line, plus a cowbell-style skirted lure or a lipless plug such as a Halco Trembler from a downrigger set at a 30-foot depth. Everything gets a wire leader in case a wahoo bites. Laing kept the trolling speed at about 7 knots and tacked at various angles across the high spot, which rose steeply on all sides. Sonar indicated it reached to within 120 feet of the surface at its peak.

I joined Laing at the helm and asked what it takes to fish such distant banks from a 34-foot center-console. “It’s not a run for the faint of heart,” said Laing in his native Canadian accent. “Nathan [Day] and I fish this spot quite a lot, but we only go when the weather is decent, the engines are running well, and the boat is fully fueled.” Laing ordered his Jupiter 34 with a 65-gallon auxiliary fuel tank, bringing his total fuel capacity to 390 gallons.

Having multiple outboards is more important than ever when fishing off the Cayman Islands, because there’s no such thing as the Coast Guard or a subscription towing service here. “If you break down, you call one of your buddies to come out and tow you in,” Laing explained. The captain also carries an emergency life raft in case of a dire situation.

Tuna Yield

The zing of a clicker cut our conversation short as a fish inhaled the rigged ballyhoo on the flat line. Morel picked up the rod, a choice he began to regret once he discovered the reel’s drag had malfunctioned. There was not enough tension to gain line; instead line continued to pour off the reel. This led to the unorthodox but effective technique of pulling in line by hand while quickly gathering it on the reel. After an awkward, protracted battle, Albrecht sank a gaff in a 51-pound yellowfin tuna.

Back on the troll, we quickly hooked another yellowfin, but this time the reel worked just fine, allowing us to land a 48-pounder. After that, the tuna seemed to evaporate or at least ignore our trolled offerings. So Laing and Day decided to shut down and drift-fish with chunks and live bait.

“Some of our most productive days have been the result of drift-fishing on banks such as the 110,” Laing explained. “We catch a lot of tuna this way.”

A key to successful drift-fishing lies in having wind and current travel in the same direction. “Fishing is best when the two are moving together,” Day says. During our trip to the 110, conditions proved favorable.

Day also pointed out that the water directly on top of such banks is not the most productive, at least for the species we were targeting. “That’s barracuda territory,” he said in his British accent. “You definitely want to steer clear of those fellows.”

The best area of the bank is the up-current side, Day revealed. So the idea is to start the drift as much as a mile up-current or upwind of the high spot, where depths plummet to 1,000 feet or more, then reset once the water becomes shallow again, as indicated on the sonar.

Grand Cayman Mystery Fish

We baited Mustad 5/0 circle hooks with chunks of Spanish mackerel and blackfin tuna and paid out 100 to 200 feet of line — no sinker, just free-lined. In the meantime, Day and Morel worked Butterfly jigs, catching a variety of jacks and small blackfin tuna in the mid-depths. Albrecht used one of the small tuna as live bait, and he was rewarded with a bite from something big.

Line melted off the 80-wide reel as the fish sped toward deeper water. Laing gave chase, allowing Albrecht to put line on the spool, but soon it turned to a stalemate, the monster refusing to budge. As the fight dragged on, ­speculation among the crew ran the gamut from blue marlin to big grouper, but it all ended when the leader parted.

After several more drifts over the bank and catching a number of small tuna, mahi and jacks, it was time to prepare for the long run home to make it back in time for weigh-in. The crew took turns manning the helm, giving those who got no sleep the night before a chance to snooze.

With the seas now on our ­starboard beam, the Jupiter 34 loped along comfortably. Setting the speed at 27 mph and 4,100 rpm ensured near-maximum efficiency, a key factor on our 280-nautical-mile round trip. The twin Yamaha F350s burned 24 gallons per hour, achieving 1 mpg.

Our course to Grand Cayman took us along the length of the Cayman Ridge, and we saw a number of areas of bird activity that would likely have yielded more fish, but time was short and we dared not stop.

Hours later, we were back at the Barcadere Marina, where Morel’s 51-pound yellowfin put us on the board again. That was our cue to celebrate with a round of rum drinks as we mingled with other anglers during the weigh-in. Morel’s fish was eventually knocked from overall contention, but it did place in the money for the biggest tuna on day two for a Grand Cayman-based team.

My time to leave Grand Cayman had come, so I bid farewell to my new fishing friends. Back at home, when people ask me what I did in the Cayman Islands, I tell them that I visited banks and learned where an angler can strike it rich.

Our Boat: Jupiter 34 FS

The Jupiter Marine 34 FS center-console proved ideally suited to fishing the waters surrounding the Cayman Islands. The 33-foot-9-inch V-hull features 24 degrees of deadrise at the transom for smooth cruising. A 10-foot-5-inch beam provides outstanding stability, an important consideration when fishing a six-person team, as we had aboard Alex Laing’s 34 FS, White Noise.

The fiberglass uni-grid stringer system, high-density ceramic-matrix-core transom, and hand-laid multidirectional biaxial and triaxial knitted fiberglass construction result in exceptional durability and a hull that rides with quiet confidence.

Twin 104-gallon insulated fish boxes in the aft deck, a 45-gallon livewell abaft the helm seating, and two 7-cubic-foot lockable rod lockers are just a few of the many fishing features aboard the 34 FS.

With the standard 325-gallon fuel capacity augmented by the optional 65-gallon auxiliary tank, the 34 FS offers the range to fish distant areas such as the 110 Bank. While the boat is rated for up to 900 hp, the twin Yamaha F350 outboards seemed like the ideal configuration for the 34 FS, offering a great blend of power and efficiency. To learn more, visit jupitermarine.com.

Plan a Trip to the Cayman Islands

Bluewater fishing is just part of the story in the Cayman Islands. The bays and harbors abound with tarpon. In fact, as we were cleaning the boat in the evening, Sport Fishing publisher Dave Morel (right) baited up with a chunk of fish and cast into the marina channel. Within minutes, a tarpon went airborne and the rod bent double. Morel got three more leaps from the 20-pounder before bringing it boat-side for photos and release.

Want to experience the magic of fishing in the Caymans? Here are suggestions for setting up the trip.

Flights

A number of airlines serve the Cayman Islands. American Airlines and Cayman Airways both offer daily nonstop flights between Miami and Grand Cayman, while Jet Blue flies nonstop between New York Kennedy and Grand Cayman.

Accommodations

I found clean, comfortable and affordable accommodations at the Comfort Inn and Suites Seven Mile Beach in Grand Cayman. It is just steps away from the famous white sand beaches along the western shore of the island.

Charter Boats

While I fished on a private boat, a wide range of charter fishing boats are available for hire in the Cayman Islands. One of the best-known operations is Reel Esea Charters. Capt. Dwight Ebanks is a native of the Caymans with 30 years of angling experience in the islands. He fishes blue water aboard his 31-foot Bertram, Reel Esea. Members of the Ebanks family often join the crew.

For more choices in charter fishing services for the Cayman Islands, visit fishcayman.com/charter.

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