BELIZE: PART ONE REVISITED

500 Things To Screw Up In 5 Seconds

Written by Deschutes Angler Guide Evan Unti

It's impossible to describe the mixture of anxiety, adrenaline and fear one experiences standing on the deck of a super ponga, praying to any god to not jack this cast up as a swarm of Permit voraciously feed 70 ft. out. Being a complete newbie to the salt, this feeling was so overwhelming that half the time I was on the deck I was hoping there would be no Permit on the flat. Unfortunately, our guide Ian had an uncanny ability to find Permit on damn near every flat and was an expert at positioning the boat so the only excuse for a botched presentation was your own.

Of course going into it I felt confident about my casting, particularly with the extra instruction from Tim Rajeff.  I also knew from talking with Steve that the key to catching these allusive fish was accurate presentations at 60 to 80 ft. which seemed at least do-able in my mind.  So heading out that first morning I was confident that my guide would be impressed but I was terribly mistaken.

Steve took the back seat, beer in tow, with a grin on his face as we pulled up to our first flat of the morning. I quickly jumped on the decked and began getting my line ready to make that perfect cast. Ian clambered up on the platform and slowly poled through the flat. Within two minutes Ian whispers “1 o’clock, seventy feet. Look at the push water.” I stare out across the flat trying to pick up on what Ian is seeing. Finally I see that black tail cutting through the water. “Okay I've got this,” I say to myself as I begin to false cast. But my first false cast slaps the water behind me as I rush into the forward cast.  “You need line speed!” my surrogate guide Steve yells. I strip in and try again this time with better results but no where near the fish. “Your 20 ft. to the left and 10 ft. short man” Ian disdainfully announces. I quickly strip and pick up and fire again and completely line the fish sending him off the flat at 40 mph. “Shit man. What the #*$&!” were the words of encouragement I received from the guide while Steve laughed uncontrollably at my pathetic attempt. I sat down shaking with adrenaline trying to come to grips with what happened in that 20 second window.

The details were different but the results were the same, possibly worse, with my next 3 opportunities. Ian’s increasingly silent reactions did not help to bolster my confidence. I just could not stay calm once I spotted the fish and blew every cast as if I had never held a fly rod.  So I sat down in despair and quickly drained 3 Belikins in a feeble attempt to remedy my anxiety. Finally liquid courage took over and I stepped back up on the deck ready to redeem myself. “Ian lets do this, just make sure to get me within 20 ft.” I said jokingly hoping to illicit a laugh. Unfortunately it fell on deaf ears as he stared across the flat looking for my next chance to screw up.

Ian quickly spotted a school of 10 fish feeding uncontrollably and he slowly positioned the boat 70 ft. out and told me to cast. My first cast, as usual, was 20 ft. short and my second cast was 10 ft. to the left. “Come on man!!” Ian yells. Finally I fire my first good cast of the trip right into the middle of the feeding frenzy and the fish miraculously do not spook. “Strip man strip. Slow. Wait. Leave it. Now strip.” Ian whispers. I feel something tug on the fly but I am not sure if it is coral, turtle grass or Permit, so I foolishly lift the rod, which I was told time and time again not to do. But luck was on my side. The line came tight and then took off faster then any fish I have ever hooked and it was game on. After a 15 minute battle with a creature that can burst at 40 mph, Ian landed my first Permit. “You are piece of work man” Ian tells me as he quickly tails the fish.

I can barely hold the fish for the pictures Steve is snapping because I was shaking like an alcoholic who hasn't had a drink in a week. Once the fish was released and the excitement wore down, I was sick to my stomach and I knew that I was on a down hill slide. Now even being back in Maupin, all I can think and dream about is my next opportunity to screw 500 things up in 5 seconds.

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