As we pole down the flat that ran along the outer reef,the sun beat down so intensely that one could easily be convinced that the rays were penetrating through one side of our bodies to the other. I peer out across the crystal blue water in amazement, or rather disbelief that this place actually exists. Suddenly, a pair of permit appeared out of the coral, swimming directly towards us from about 70 meters away. The guide fired up the outboard and circled around to get me into a good casting position. It was obvious to everyone in the boat that we were being chauffeured around this tropical paradise by a seasoned vet. As I finally got set to make a cast, I looked around to find that the elusive grey ghosts of the reef have become just that, ghosts. The guide instructed me to cast into an open pool surrounded by walls of coral. So I lined up and laid one out. Stripping slowly, slowly, slowly. Doing everything I can think of to make my squimp fly look like some sort of creature that actually lives in these waters. I lean into the bow of the boat a little further with each strip. Then, like a flash of lightning, my line pulls tight and I pull right back with my free hand! That familiar excitement I’ve felt a thousand times before came rushing back into every part of my body. In true Permit fashion, just as I would catch a glimpse of silver in the water, he darted away on another run. This goes on for about another 30 minutes… or maybe only 5. Like a dog at the lake,I lose all sense of time when I'm out fishing. I pull on the rod and crank the reel over as my hands start to cramp up. Finally, I can see him in all his beauty! All 40 inches and 14 pounds and mouthful of teeth. I had just fallen victim to the dirty thief of the flats. A mean-eyed crocodile with fins and gills. Wouldn’t you know it, a damn Barracuda. While this was certainly a cool experience, in an amazing place, it wasn’t exactly the quarry we’d traveled over a thousand miles to catch. I guess my handshake with a permit will have to wait for another day.
