It would be a difficult task to find a more personable and entertaining guide in the Bahamas than Tory Bevins.
Aside from his casting prowess, he’s a Raconteur of the first order.
If you find yourself on South Andros, look him up. He works at Andros South. If you’re fishing DIY or at another lodge, you can find him after quitting time at the small bar by Little Creek or up island at the Rust Barge.
His casting style is simple to understand and works incredibly well. Take a few minutes to get in the groove and you’ll be slinging string like a pro.
One of my partners in crime recently found out that we have been granted access to a condo in the Bahamas when we want to take advantage of it. The news sent my mind reeling with thoughts of morning tides that overtake mangrove propagules that have taken root in soft marl in the far reaches of a coastal creek.
The image of sunlight flashing from an upturned tail breaking the surface draws me like a moth to flame.
I have things that could be more productive that need to be down, yet I pour over aerial maps on Bing and Google looking for areas of promise that will soon be within reach.
To me there is nothing more rewarding than plotting a course that takes me to a new area where I think bonefish will await my unfurling loop of fly line.
The hunt is still a ways away, so for now I’ll continue to plan.
When I step into the warm salty waters somewhere within the archipelago of The Bahamas, I’ll be ready.
Until this week, I’ve always thought there was only one place to go to enjoy wading for redfish in a place that evokes the feeling of bonefishing a Bahamas flat. A few years ago it was the Lower Laguna Madre of Southwest Texas where I had experienced it for the first time.
The Gulf Islands National Seashore is also just such a place. Recently I spent the better part of 3.5 hours walking the shoreline there looking for redfish in gin clear water over hard sand bottom. The set-up is identical to what you normally see reserved for bonefish. My timing was off, I was there on an extremely high tide, so I passed on wading and remained on the narrow ribbon of beach along the water’s edge. Nonetheless, I saw a handful of redfish, all solitary hunters, that were plying the same shoreline. This time they were a bit too wary of my offerings and all of the shots I took ended without a hook-up, despite a couple of promising follows.
There are literally miles of flats available. Hard sand bottom with sparse sea grasses stretch on from horizon to horizon.
The idea of spending time on the Redneck Riviera has grown in appeal by significant digits.
For now, I’ll carry the panhandle skunk back home with me, but rest assured, I’ll return again with a sharper plan and better timing. I love bonefishing, I love it even more when the expected gray ghost is actually a copper rocket.
The past few weeks have been filled with days of building anticipation for the good times and fishing that is to come. Three intrepid angling souls will pack up flies, rods and reels in just two days and retract the landing gear to head southeast into the archipelago of The Bahamas.
The unknown challenges of going it alone is the greatest appeal for “Do It Yourself” in a far flung location, but the rewards are epic when they come.
The entire experience is an adventure. Beyond the simplicity of making a call to any of the fine bonefish lodges that dot the island nation, the search for shelter is just the beginning in a DIY adventure. Scouring Google Maps for potential flats that will be both accessible and productive consumes hours of time as the date approaches.
For now, its back to packing and double checking gear…