Culebra Weekend, January 2008

Our sister island of Culebra is a mere 10 miles to our north and is as much a fisherman’s paradise as Vieques. It boasts some of the most pristine flats that can be found anywhere in the Caribbean. The bonefish that prowl these waters are truly of epic size. Unfortunately, getting to there from here quickly and cheaply presents more of a problem than it should. There is no daily ferry service from Vieques to Culebra, and flights are “On Demand,” which means when they have at least four passengers, they’ll go.

Despite that minor hurdle, Culebra is a must-see for any serious fly fisherman coming to Puerto Rico. I first visited the island shortly after moving to Vieques and making friends with a fellow angler and owner of a brand new 20 foot center console. On a handful of calm days, we would make the 30 minute run from the pier here in Vieques. We’d hit Culebra’s only town of Dewey, have lunch and a few beers at the Dingy Dock, then slow troll around the entire island, picking up a bonita or king fish along the way. Our last trip over there was more than a year ago, just before my friend’s stock market job called him back to the States and his sweet little center console was put up for sale. But, from my side of Vieques, Culebra is always right on the horizon, so I knew I’d get back there soon.

Last spring, through a friend who fishes both islands, I began talking with Capt. Chris Goldmark, the only fishing guide currently working on Culebra. Chris has chartered on the island for over 15 years. He finally came over to Vieques to fish with me last year but it was a rather unimpressive day. The way these things work out between guides meant that he would return the favor by hosting me on his island and humble me with a day that would be a hundred times better. That’s exactly what happened last week.

Our Culebra weekend revolved around my wife’s birthday, and it’s a perfect place to celebrate something like that. With a handful of cozy guesthouses right on the water and a couple of the best restaurants in the Caribbean, Culebra is an excellent getaway, even for those of us who live down here. It also happened that Capt. Chris had a Saturday open to take us out fishing, too. (What a coincidence!)

He picked us up from Villa Boheme that morning at 6:30 AM, just as the sun was brightening the horizon. Our run to the famous Dakity flats was a smooth 15 minute ride in Chris’s handmade skiff. Once there we anchored up and hopped out to try catching a tailing bonefish on foot. Wade fishing is the most satisfying but difficult way to catch this elusive species. When the fish are in very skinny water, as they were that morning, they’re highly alert, but the lower profile of a wading angler is harder for them to see. It also means that you have to get much closer and eventually they’re going to know you’re there.

Time after time I made decent casts to bonefish feeding so shallow that half their bodies were exposed, but they were having none of it. Wade fishing is also a great way to see how fast bonefish can move when they’re not hooked, just frightened. After an hour of watching them make rooster-tails after each of my casts, Chris decided it was time to get back on the boat and pole across some deeper water. With their backs completely covered, bonefish loose a little of their famous spookiness.

This was the ticket. After less than five minutes poling across a shoreline flat, a small school of fat bones popped up off bow‘s right side. My fly landed smack in the middle of them and they all charged it at once. The largest fish beat the rest of the pack and tore off the flat with my line trailing after him. After 5 minutes and a clever attempt to cut me off on a coral head, we had him on the boat. At just under 7 pounds he was a quality bone, but not the best of the day. That would come a less than an hour later.

Just before heading in for lunch, Chris said he had one more spot to show me where Culebra’s biggest bonefish lived. He wasn’t joking. Two minutes after making that announcement, I was looking at a huge single fish cruising right towards us. I dropped the fly a few feet too short but he charged up to eat it anyway. This one was a true pig. He did everything a bonefish is supposed to do in spades; three reel-emptying runs and then 10 minutes of hard pulling circles around the boat. I couldn’t believe his size when Chris lifted him out of the water. This was at least a 9 pound fish, not a world record, but a great fly rod catch. It was the second biggest one of my career, but probably the most satisfying. Tucked inside of a gorgeous Culebra bay, holding a trophy bonefish, with my wife finally getting to see me display some angling prowess…well, the sport doesn’t get any better than that. Thanks, Chris.