There is a very special place in the Florida Keys, an area that is the tops in my book for fly and light-tackle sight fishing. The bonefish here don't have doctorates and the tarpon will eat most every fly they see. Permit mingle around the bridges here, and in the channels and flats from the ocean to the backcountry. Little tarpon-the fun kind under 40 pounds-roll and play next to almost every backcountry mangrove island.

An adult tarpon skies after being hooked on a streamer fly.

It's a little too far south for most Islamorada skiff anglers to boat to for a day's fishing, and a bit too far north for Key Westers. This Lower Keys flats fishery stretches roughly from Bahia Honda Bridge to Sugarloaf Key. Great flats fishing can be had from the Atlantic shoreline flats to the backcountry flats and channels clear out to the edge of the Gulf of Mexico. Practically all of the backcountry is within the boundaries of the Great White Heron National Wildlife Refuge, a sprawling, 300-square-mile region stretching from Marathon Key to Key West. I like this part of the Keys because it is less populated, and I like big, strong, aggressive fish and lots of them.

In August 2002, I was invited to fish one of the Redbone Tournaments out of Little Palm Island. This one was based at the Little Palm Island Resort, located about three miles off the Atlantic side of Little Torch Key. This tournament opened my eyes to some great flats fishing that I'd been missing for years. The heralded flats grand slam is achievable here given the numbers of tarpon, bonefish and permit that inhabit these waters. In fact, the Little Palm Island Grand Slam is a warm-up tournament developed as a practice event for the major flats tournaments, including the Redbone Series.

While Lower Keys bonefish are not huge on average like those on the "downtown" flats of Islamorada, or in Biscayne Bay, 10-pounders are not uncommon. Permit can be found on almost every oceanside flat, and also mix with bonefish in the backcountry. After mid-July, most big tarpon have headed back north, but there are plenty of "babies" in the 5- to 40-pound class that hang out around the numerous mangrove keys and channels.

The Little Palm Island Slam actually gives you two days to catch the big three, and bait is allowed. There is a fly division with extra points, but a slam on fly is never easy even over two days. I fished with Capt. Tim Carlisle out of Sugarloaf Key and Josh Feigenbaum from New York City and I must admit that I really hadn't tried to catch all three species in one day before. As we started out, Carlisle said permit numbers were off, but he knew of some small tarpon which just love shrimpy looking flies, so that was Plan A at first light. Later, he said, we would bonefish and pray for a close encounter with a lost permit. Now that's a real pep talk as you are leaving the dock in the morning. No pressure-just catch three species on fly in one day! As luck would have it, an unusual-for-August north wind gave the tarpon a case of lockjaw. I managed to blow my only shot at permit, but we did release six bonefish. Even with the tournament going on, we hardly saw another boat. It's the way flats fishing should be.

Various crab and shrimp flies for flats slam endeavors.

That trip left me wanting more, so about two weeks later I hooked up with Capt. Dave Denkert. Denkert trailers his skiff throughout the Keys, so I met him at his Plantation Key home and we launched at a boat ramp next to legendary Keys angler Stu Apte's old house near Little Torch Key. We ran to one of the many backcountry mangrove islands to look for tarpon. As Denkert poled, we spotted little flicks and splashes on the surface where the current crept around the key. But they didn't look like tarpon. This school of unidentified swimming objects darted, occasionally sucked down either small crabs or shrimp from the surface, sounded, and then resurfaced briefly. I tied on a Depth Charge Crab, a new crabby, shrimpy fly that Capt. Rick Murphy gave me. His creation sinks like a jig, primarily designed for permit hanging in channels. I didn't think these mystery fish were permit, but the water was deep, so I tied it on. The strange splashes appeared about 50 feet away so I cast upcurrent and let the fly sink. After three strips, a jolt from something solid. After a headshake it took off, tearing a hundred yards of backing from the reel. A few minutes later I cranked it into sight and Denkert and I both blurted out, "Bonefish!" A school of bonefish feeding on the surface in the current. Pretty neat!