On another trip to Long Island, I was faced with a similar situation. At low tide the guides parked their boats to pass the time on the edge of a wide, ice-blue channel. Rather than sitting around and admiring the turquoise waters, I dug out my backup flies. I fished a long, slim popper on the surface in hopes of a big barracuda, and was entertained by school after school of horse-eye jacks. They swarmed over and missed my popper repeatedly, but one would occasionally find the hook. They are respectable scrappers, and a great way to pass the time. In the middle of this melee, a large school of much bigger fish nosed up under my popper. After a short chase a fish launched itself out of the water and wolfed the goods. I didn’t know it was a yellow jack at the time, a first for me, but as all veteran jack fishermen know, jacks don’t give up when they fight. So it was a good 20 minutes before I pulled this fish into the shallows where we admired its tarnished silver, hard-muscled flanks striped with iridescent blue. That fish, too, made a bigger impression on me then any bone I landed that entire week.

Mangrove snapper from a Bahamas creek.

Sharks are common interlopers in the tropics, and will provide you with some great flyfishing moments. Sharks of all sizes frequent the flats of the Keys as well as The Bahamas, and they will take topwater flies, albeit clumsily. If fishing a subsurface fly, remember that the fly has to pass right next to a shark’s eye. I have hooked sharks that nearly tail-walked as they took off. Blistering runs are the norm for even the smaller 2- and 3-footers.

Most bonefishers don’t want to see too many sharks—especially lemon sharks—where they look for bones. Sharks prey on bonefish—taking special liking to your hooked fish, sadly, so most intentional shark fishing should be done once the water is too high on the flats to find concentrations of bones. Then, you stand a chance at hooking an outsized shark. And you can do it “purely” by casting to cruising sharks while you are poled along, or, if they are reluctant to strike, you can chum them to a staked-out skiff. Simply hang a butterflied barracuda over the gunnel where the tide is brisk, and any shark in the area should come a running.

Tarpon are a targeted headliner in the Keys, of course, and more of a backup fish in The Bahamas where, by Keys standards, most are small, but formidable gamefish when fished with light fly rods. While not all of The Bahamas have a population of resident tarpon it will pay to ask your guide about the possibility. In Mexico, and elsewhere in the Caribbean, baby tarpon are a better bet, and swim the same waters as bones in some places. Snook, too, are an alternative, particularly in nearby lagoons.

On Andros Island, I am told that there are small tarpon in the blue holes that dot the interior. On Long Island I had the pleasure of catching several baby tarpon where my guide, Dwayne Knowles, took me on an arduous journey in pursuit of juvenile tarpon. It required lifting a small collapsible boat over land from one piece of water to another and wading across a considerably wide “knee-deep-in-mud” flat too shallow for the boat. The effort was worth it because we caught several nice tarpon and a few ladyfish as well.

There are always mangrove snappers around the mangrove roots of any island that has a moat with water at least two feet deep. They will take bonefish flies such as Clouser Minnows, Snapping Shrimp, you name it, though they wise up quickly.

So don’t be lulled into thinking that your bonefishing trip will always be stellar, and that weather conditions will be brochure-perfect every time out. If you’re hopping on a plane this winter, wind, cloud cover, cold fronts, bad tides and more might put the whammy on things. Save your trip by being prepared to fish for alternative species.

SWA