BELIZE: PART 2 REVISITED

ARE YOU MAN ENOUGH?

Written by Deschutes Angler Guide Evan Unti

Certainly one of the crowning achievements in Saltwater Fly Fishing is hooking and landing a Big Tarpon, a feat which tests the strength of your terminal tackle as well as you. I have to say that out of the gate, these fish are violent in every aspect - from the take, to the jump, to the run - and will test your will power to the max. Having never fished for these leviathans, I was completely unaware of what I was getting myself into when our guide Ian suggested we chase Tarpon for the afternoon, but I was eager and enthusiastic.

In order to chase the big boys we had to target channels in the reef which were deeper water then I anticipated,  but my fellow Deschutes Angler Guide Steve Light had selected the right line for the occasion.  The recommended set up was a 26 ft. 500 grain sinking head attached to an Intermediate Running Line with a 6 inch fly. Having never cast a line of this magnitude on a single handed rod, it took some getting use to. But once I dialed this line in, it sailed 100 ft. effortlessly.

When we pulled into the channel, Ian quickly released the anchor and told us to wait for the Tarpon to start rolling. Within minutes of cutting the engine, the fish began rolling all around the boat.  I was seriously intimidated by their sheer size. In fact, I wasn't sure at this moment whether I even wanted to attempt a cast for fear of being pulled from the boat. Unfortunately, I didn't have an option because Steve refused to fish and Ian was getting antsy.

I stepped up on the deck and began to work out the necessary line needed to get the fly out far enough. I began to false cast and sailed out a 90 footer into the area where the fish were rolling.

“Let it sink for 20 seconds before retrieving” Ian stated.

I stood up there twiddling my thumbs as Steve sat, feet up on the cooler, sipping an ice cold Belikin.

“Now strip like you mean it!” Ian hollered.

I began stripping aggressively watching the tip of my rod.  Within 15 strips, I felt a slight bump and then another.

“Ian, something is screwing with my fly but it feels small!”

“Just KEEP STRIPPING mon'!”

So, to my guides surprise, I did exactly what he said.

“Something keeps bumping the fly!” I said.  Just as I finished talking the rod jumped and bucked hard.

“Strip mon', strip its a TARPON!” Ian yells.

I give the line one quick jerk back and the line is ripped from my hand cutting into my fingers. Ian catapults from the back of the boat to the front in one jump and begins clearing my line.

“Bow the rod! BOW THE ROD NOW!” Ian screams.

Before I have even processed what he is saying, the fish shoots out of the water like a rocket and scares the crap out of me.

“Holy @#$@ !!!!” I scream.

“That’s a BIG ONE mon'!” Ian yells enthusiastically.

Deschutes Angler Guide Evan Unti Diggin' In With A Tarpon

The fish hits the water and takes off running at an uncontrollable speed, then rockets out of the water again.  I have never seen so much backing out the tip of a rod and I quickly began to doubt whether I would even get the fly line back.

“WHAT DO I DO!” I yelled.

“ Just hold on mon' and pray the hook is buried!” Ian yells back.

“I hope the hook ISN'T buried!” I think to myself as I begin the longest battle of my life.

20 minutes had gone by and by this time I was sweating profusely and my arms were cramping up. Of course, Steve was there letting me know exactly how long the battle had taken and how much longer he expected the fight to continue. I could tell I wasn't even half way into the battle as Steve and the guide casually sat in the back of the boat b@llsh#tting.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh! WHEN is this going to be over?” I yell.  Steve and Ian just laugh.
           
The battle took 9 jumps, two 250 yard runs and about an hour before Ian put the gloves on and began to land the fish. It was incredible to see the size of this fish up close. The fish damn near pulled Ian out of the boat as he hoisted the fish up for a couple of quick pictures. After the photo I sat down, cracked a beer and told Steve and Ian that I was done for the day.  Heading back to resort, I looked at Steve and foolishly stated “Lets do that tomorrow!”.  Boy, I should have kept my mouth shut because Ian took us back to the channel at first light.

Deschutes Angler Guide Evan Unti And The Ultimate Reward Plus Some Vicious Pit Stains

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.

The Beautiful And Oft Underrated Permit

The Author With A Gorgeous Permit