11 minute read
SEA FLATS SAFARI SEEKING THE FLATS SLAM IN THE FLORIDA KEYS
MEMBER Sea Flats Safari
SEEKING THE FLATS SLAM IN THE FLORIDA KEYS
BY CHESTER MOORE, JR.
“I t’s all fun and games until someone goes and misses a bonefish!” My friend Todd Jurasek and I stood in disbelief as Capt. Mo Estevez shouted that from the back of his 16-foot Hewe’s flats boat. We had a double hookup on big bonefish near the end of a day-long expedition into Biscayne Bay near Miami, Fl. And both of the fish, after several minutes of intense, long runs, just let go. We both missed fish the same way earlier in the day, so this was shocking. I can’t remember losing two hooked fish in a day ever, and I have caught everything from giant white sturgeon to wahoo around the world. But there’s something different about bonefish. Everything you’ve heard about their pound-for-pound power is true-plus some. These fish just don’t want to come to the boat. If redfish are bulldogs, bonefish are pit bulls crossed with greyhounds. Their power and speed are simply stunning. I started dreaming of catching bonefish as a little boy, sitting on my dad’s lap, cutting out photos from fishing and hunting magazines, and placing them in scrapbooks. We would take old copies of Sports Afield, Field & Stream, Saltwater Sportsman, and many other publications and cut out our dream fish and animals and talk for hours on end about them.
The author caught this massive barracuda while fishing for permit on a recent expedition. (Photo by Lisa Moore)
Before dad passed away in 2014, we got to go on many of those dream fishing and hunting trips from the pages of the scrapbooks, but bonefish eluded us.
The timing just didn’t work out, so now was my chance.
“Biscayne Bay has some of the biggest bonefish in the world on average, so it’s a great place for someone who wants to realize their bonefishing dream,” Estevez said.
This bay’s natural beauty and biodiversity are intoxicating. Surrounded by thousands of acres of mangroves, with crystal clear water over a sweeping plane of seagrass, it is home to much marine life.
At one point, a manatee surfaced as a stingray swam under the boat, and a young lemon shark cruised nearby.
Taking all of this indeed made my spirit soar, but time kept ticking away. And we didn’t have much left, about 30 minutes.
After watching a big bonefish swim through a clearing in the seagrass, I decided to make a last-ditch effort by casting there. And within a few minutes, the drag on my spinning reel was screaming, and the rod doubled over.
Bonefish on!
Any seasoned angler composure was thrown out the window. I asked Capt. Mo, if I were fighting the fish right like a rookie would and was more nervous than any point in my fishing life. A few minutes later, Capt. Mo netted the beautiful fish, a 24inch, nine-pound class bonefish, and a personal dream come true. Releasing the fish back into the clear waters after the photoshoot
TARPON
The tides at Marathon were moving in with vigor the night after our bonefish trip. As the sun began to set over this beautiful setting in the Florida Keys, a pair of big tarpon surfaced just behind the boat. With two rods out and rigged with super-sized live mullet, hopes were high one of them would take the bait. A few minutes passed, and the only action was taking in the unseasonably cool, peaceful surroundings.
“Zzzzzzzzz!”
One of the spinning rods doubled over, and the drag began to scream.
Tarpon on!
My friend and partner on this trip, Todd Jurasek, grabbed the rod as our guide Capt. Dave Schugar of Sweet E’ Nuff Charters coached him on fighting his first “silver king.” That nickname is used across state lines and international boundaries to describe what many believe is the most remarkable inland game fish on the planet. “I’m used to catching bass and rainbow trout in streams. This is unbelievable,” Jurasek said as he witnessed the five-foot fish do its famous tail walk.
The only thing more incredible about tarpon than their rugged yet beautiful appearance is their jumping ability. And this fish put on a show.
Below: Tarpon, also called the “silver king” are arguably the most respected inland sportfish on the planet. (Photo by Chester Moore)
Above: The author caught his first-ever bonefish while fishing in Biscayne Bay near Miami, Fl. He has caught many of the world’s top gamefish and says pound for pound nothing compares to the bonefish.
“Once I grab the leader, the fish is caught,” Schugar said, signaling the goal is to get the fish to the boat, snap a photo, and release without harm.
Handling an 80-pound tarpon in a boat could get ugly, and the goal was to let that fish have a chance at producing more of its kind and thrilling other anglers down the line.
Shortly after that, we had a false alarm as I hung into a giant shark that cut the line. And just before we left, I hung into a tarpon about the same size as Todd’s that jumped a couple of times before doing what these fish are famous for besides jumping.
It shook its head and disconnected the hook. I was bummed, but not too much.
All of this action happened in four hours in a short run from the dock that saw us getting a real taste of seeking this amazing sportfish.
My interest in tarpon comes from a childhood encounter. At Bailey’s Fish Camp in Bridge City, TX, longtime owner, the late
Rob Bailey, told me and my dad he wanted to show us something. In a long cooler where he usually kept bait shrimp to sell was a six-foot-long tarpon.
“A guy caught it out at the 18-mile light and wanted me to hold it until he could find a taxidermist to bring it to,” Bailey said.
A wide-eyed young Chester was blown away and vowed that one day he would catch tarpon like that.
Thankfully, we have come a long way in how we view fisheries. Today we can measure a fish, snap a photo and get a replica that looks as good as the real thing done without killing the
fish. And I saw that type of conservation ethic well intact with Capt. Schugar.
I also had tremendous conversations about his love for catching broadbill swordfish in super deep water and experiences catching tuna, marlin, and other fish accessible via the Keys.
Trips like that with skilled, ethical guides in tremendous settings seeking even more tremendous fish are the building blocks of fishing dreams. And in times like these, we need to keep our dreams big and, in this case, with a touch of silver.
My time in the Keys was short and my time fighting the big tarpon was even shorter, but it made me want more.
BONEFiSH: A GATEWAY DRUG?
Speaking of wanting more, earlier this year, I did an episode of my Higher Calling Gulf Coast podcast on the top five fish I have never caught, and the bonefish was number one. Catching one on the fly would be the pinnacle, but getting one on spinning gear was plenty satisfying.
I had this conversation with Dr. Aaron Adams, Conservation Director of the Bonefish & Tarpon Trust, and his reply made me chuckle and think.
“Bonefish are sort of the gateway drug to flats fishing. Once you catch one, you can’t get enough, and you want to go after permit and tarpon, and then you’re hooked,” he said
When I told Adams I had already booked another trip with Estevez to fish for a permit, he simply replied, “I told you so.”
Adam’s statement made perfect sense to me. I’ve never done a drug in my life, and have always found the high of hooking into a big fish or calling in a turkey, plenty for me.
The Flats Slam consists of the bonefish, tarpon, and permit, fish which spend some of their time in the deeper ocean but most of their life cycle in the flats.
That first trip was in April 2021, and by July, my wife Lisa and I returned to fish for a permit.
A stunningly beautiful fish, permit are part of the flats slam and a fish sought by Atlantic and Western Gulf of Mexico anglers when they spend time around wrecks and reefs in deeper water.
The wind was a little strong for sight casting to permit with ease. We found a few over a flat that had a strong current flowing over rocks. Sea turtles and boxfish were abundant, and I cast to a couple of permit that showed no interest.
We moved over into a deeper area and tried vertical jigging. This is very similar to snapper fishing I do in Texas around oil platforms, and the first few bites I had were snapper. They were not the red snapper I am used to catching, but the equally beautiful mutton snapper.
About an hour into my jigging, I got a hard thump on the line, and then drag started peeling quickly. This was precisely what a permit is supposed to feel like on the strike.
By the time I gained any traction on the line, the fish had made a full circle around the boat. I had to maneuver the rod under the Power-Pole that had us positioned and put enough pressure on the fish to keep it from running under the boat where it could easily break the line.
About ten minutes later, the fish did another lap around the boat, and just as I pulled it from under the motor, it moved high enough into the water column to see it. A long, cylindrical silverfish appeared in the blue-green water. At first, I thought it was a big king mackerel, but then its identity was unmistakable.
“Barracuda!” I shouted.
We had seen several tiny barracuda, but this was a monster, and it fought like one.
After seeing us in the boat, the fish made another long run and me and Capt. Estevez was doubtful I would bring it in.
The fighting part wasn’t the issue. The teeth were. Barracuda usually cut every line not rigged with a steel leader, and this one was not.
After another five minutes of fighting, the fish started to get tired. I maneuvered it to the boat and landed this beautiful flats predator, which we released after photos.
“I’m surprised you got it in. We rarely see barracuda anywhere near this size here in the flats, and the fact you hooked it just in the right spot is impressive. Congratulations!” Estevez said.
I never caught a permit that day, but the barracuda more than made up for it, especially considering I was fishing with a medium-heavy trout rod.
The experience reminded me how safari-like flats fishing could be.
We ended up drifting over a school of one hundred or more barracuda in the 18-inch to the two-foot range, saw numerous giant stingrays, several species of jacks, and a massive nurse shark.
Biscayne Bay and the flats of the Florida Keys are like the Serengeti, thriving with life and thrilling the senses.
GOiNG BACK FOR MORE
I will return with my fly gear to fish with Capt. Mo and catch a bonefish and a permit, but admittedly need to practice more.
These fish present a more significant fly fishing challenge than anything I’ve caught.
The bonefish humbled me. And it’s not just because of missing fish earlier in the day and the challenge of bringing in the unbelievably hard-fighting fish.
It was because, for the first time in a long time, a fish took me to a different place.
It was a place where fishing dreams were not just real, but alive and in vivid, living color.
The Flats Slam represents a very significant angling challenge and one filled with adventure. When your bycatch on a fishing trip is a four and a half foot long barracuda, sign me up!
In a time when the world seems as if it’s set on meltdown mode, such a place beckons loudly for a return.
I have fought the mighty bonefish and began the pursuit of the flats slam, and I don’t think I will ever be the same.
And that’s a good thing. ★
Capt. Mo Estevez uses his push pole and platform to seek out bonefish in Biscayne Bay. (Photo by Chester Moore)
