River Code Part II.

Simply give me a 90 foot cast at 10:30

   As mentioned in my previous post, I've never fished Tiger Woods but I'm guessing it would be a trip.  I imagine rolling down the river with a very intense fisherman yelling bite damnit, bite.  Maybe a few F bombs thrown in for good measure and of course the "oh c'mon Tiger" when he misses a fish.  I know a lot of guides that don't like missing fish and they will probably let you hear about it.  They  might even remind you for years   to come.  I can really be a tenacious little pain in the ass - the kind of fishing guide I swore I would never be and learned not to be thanks to Tiger and a skinny, sweaty booze drenched Key's guide.
   You see, my wife and I escaped the cold and snow of Montana n the Winter of 2005 and headed South to the Florida Key's.  Awesome Winter but that's another chapter.  I had never caught a bonefish before and my goal that Winter was a bone and if I had just a little more time,, a permit.  I hired my first key's guide with a little hesitation of course.  I had heard to horror stories and had my ego intact and wanted to keep it that way.  Now you have to remember something.  I'm a streamer junkie from Montana, really good with a short line while ripping a fly fast.  Similar to saltwater, I thought.
     I met the guide at Bud n Mary's marina in Islamorada the morning of our trip.  We met, exchanged handshakes and I caught a wiff of last nights booze session with a whiskey bottle.  I was warned about these Key's fellas.  So far, my guide was right on course.  Serious raccoon eyes, sunburned, crows feet, leather for skin and reeked of cigarettes and booze.  Sweet, this will be fun since I had found the right guy for my first bonefish.  He said he had recently spent a lot of time in the backcountry and new where we could find some bones.  We started out bayside poling and searching for bones.  It was my first time on a skiff and first time in the backcountry of the Florida Key's, I was psyched!  At last he spotted a school tailing in some sea grass.  I couldn't see them but I took his word for it, until... Guide:  "Give me a 90ft cast at 10:30 and work your clouser slow".  Me:  "OK, it won't be pretty but I'll do just that"  I double hauled 90 feet of terrible looking fly line that hit the water so hard I think it spooked every fish between the Keys and Cuba.  Guide:  "I know where some cobia live and all you have to do is cast a short line and strip fast - you'll do great".  Was this really my first bought and payed for bonefish experience?
   So I returned to Montana bonefishless and a little better of a guide, sort of.  Rather than kicking the cooler, spitting on my boat floor or dropping a mega loud F bomb, I would dig deep and think about Woods and my Key's guide.