I was terrified after Day 1. It was hands down the worst bonefishing I have ever seen. The water was frigid and vis was trash. I did my best to maintain a calm exterior but inside I was crying & throwing up. I spotted seven fish over an entire day of fishing. Seven. Seven! SEVEN!! I spent the night pacing and telling myself “they're not all dead, they're not all dead.” Whether I believed it or not is up for debate. Gillnetting is a sob.
Day 2 - We attempt to find warmer water. That means channel time. I beeline it to a creek mouth flat. It rains once again. Not good for water temps. By 7:30, a rainbow is in the sky and I pull a fish out of a school of 30. I frantically wave at Peter and Cope across the mangrove peninsula while fighting another fish. Pete arrives and gets to work on his first bonefish. I can feel the tension drain from my soul. Fishing is fun again.
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