A few weeks ago I had a four day charter with a semi-retired
professor from a major northern university. He was a very
likable guy at first, but when he wasn’t throwing sadly
inaccurate casts at big tailing bonefish, he would fill in the
time by lecturing me about all the flaws of capitalism and the
greedy American system in general. He got really fired up when
he found out that my wife works for a huge investment bank. I
had no idea how oppressive we’d been over these past few years.
The Professor was also using a $500 fly rod and had just got
back from a couple of fishing trips to resorts in the Bahamas
and Belize, where he had caught almost two dozen bonefish in one
day. It was that last piece of information that really told me
how much trouble I was in with this guy.
When I was guiding in the Keys, where the sport of bonefishing
was invented, I would cringe every time a client informed me
that their last trip was to either the Bahamas or Belize.
“How many did you catch?” I’d ask, with a sigh of resignation.
Then I’d get to hear all about a typical day of bonefishing on
the flats off a place like Ambergris Key in Belize.
It would usually be something like: “Well, on our first day my
wife only caught twelve, but that’s because she lost her contact
lenses, and I only caught eighteen because I broke my rod and
had to cast with just the bottom half, but our second day was
really great because…”
In other words, if you hit certain parts of Belize or the
Bahamas at the right time of year, you’re almost guaranteed to
find tennis court-sized schools of small bonefish that are
impossible not to catch.
Bonefish on the flats of Vieques are different creatures.
Catching bones down here is basically grad school compared to
those other locations. Our huge tailing fish can be insanely
demanding and if you’ve managed to land one of them with either
Capt. Franco or myself lately, well, you’ve really got your act
together.
But back to the Professor. As I was launching the boat at the
beginning of our fourth day, he informed me that the reason he
hadn’t caught any fish during the previous three was due to one
thing: Me. Since the Professor was also a Bonefish Expert, as
are most folks from Minnesota, he ticked of a list of things
that I was doing wrong out on the flats. I stood there in
silence while he criticized just about all of my guiding skills,
from how I poled my boat to the flies I was using and how I
wanted them moved.
The Professor, in addition to being a bonefish expert, was also
an amazingly lucky man. I know three different guides from Key
West who would have hauled off and punched him right there and
then.
I pride myself on having a very even temper when it comes to
paying customers. I save my tantrums for my family and friends.
The Professor was clearly used to being the smartest person in
the room and the opinions of a full time guide really weren’t
going to matter to him. So on that morning, instead of hurting
the guy or acting hurt myself, I politely heard the Professor
out, took a very deep breath, and told him that we would go out
to the flats and do everything his way. He could tell me where
to go, what to do with the boat, what flies to use, and
basically take charge of the entire charter. I also told him
that if we caught a bonefish while doing everything his way, he
wouldn’t have to pay me for that morning.
Four hours later, while The Professor was paying me, I realized
that I actually did learn something from him. In fourteen years
of guiding, I’ve never come across anyone so book-smart yet so
totally clueless. Guys like The Professor, with a lifetime in
government and academia, are incapable of thinking that they’re
wrong about anything, even when they‘re seriously offending
someone who isn‘t. What I learned is that a little bit of
knowledge, especially when it comes to fly fishing, can be a
very dangerous thing. In other words, listen to your dumb-ass
guide, especially here on Vieques, and you might actually catch
a fish.
P.S: The angler in the picture above builds log cabins for a
living in Idaho. He listened to me this morning and then caught
this beautiful seven pound bonefish.
Capt. Gregg McKee,
WildFly Charters
