Here’s a look back to a venture tracking the early days of saltwater fly fishing in the Commonwealth of The Bahamas
April 2024
Article and photos by Jimmy Jacobs.
( Editors Note: This story originally appeared in the Cat Cayer, the newsletter of the Cat Cay Yacht Club.)
Before ever setting foot on Cat Cay (pronounced like Cat Key), the angling history of the island in the Bahamas had been impressed upon me. This private island is home to the exclusive Cat Cay Yacht Club and was renowned for producing giant bluefin tuna and marlin in past decades, while wahoo, sailfish and white marlin still produce siren calls for blue-water fisherman. It also should not to be confused with Cat Island that is to the east in the central portion of the island nation. The big-game pursuits of S. Kip Farrington and Ernest Hemmingway off the shores of the cay in the 1930s are the stuff of which legends are made.
When the opportunity arose to actually visit this tropical destination, a little research uncovered another unexpected angling legacy. It was while Willard “Al” Rockwell was rebuilding Cat Cay after it was devastated by Hurricane Betsy in 1965 that Field & Stream Magazine editors Jack Samson and A.J. McClane discovered the bonefish flats that spread between North and South Cat Cay. In the ensuing years, both men waxed poetic about stalking these wary fish in crystalline water over sand or grass shallows that lay between the two isles. Indeed, it was there that many early saltwater fly-fishing tactics were pioneered.
It was during the first week of April and our party was standing on the shore with fly rods in hand staring out at those flats. Beside me were Jimmy Harris, co-owner of Unicoi Outfitters, a fly-fishing shop and guide services in the North Georgia mountains, and Polly Dean, daughter of the club’s then general manager, Bill Watkins. We were about to embark into historic waters with all the optimism that accompanies the beginning of any angling venture.
The shore we were perched on was actually the No. 5 fairway of Windsor Downs golf course. If you manage to spray your approach shot to the left of the green, your ball will land on a bonafide bonefish flat! Looking out from the shore, the bottom of the darker water near the beach was covered with grass and was a favorite feeding ground for bonefish. Here they root around in the sand for crabs, shrimp, and aquatic worms. Unfortunately, the “gray ghosts of the flats” are very difficult to see in that environment, unless they are nose down to the bottom. Then the tips of their tails protrude from the water, giving away their location.
Actually, we soon discovered that the easiest way to find the bonefish is to intercept them on their way to the grass. A couple hundred yards out from the shore there is a band of white sand that wraps around between Cat Cay and South Cat Cay. As the tide rises, bonefish approach the flats from between the islands, using white sand as a travel avenue. The best tactic is to wade out to the far side of the white sand at low tide. You cross a slight depression in the sand that is about 12 to 15 inches deeper than the surrounding water. This is the channel the bonefish use. At high tide it is only waist deep at most and on the ebb is only about a foot to 18 inches deep.
Position yourself on the ocean side of the little channel just as the tide is turning to rising. Watch for the bonefish, most of which are in the 4- to 6-pound size range, to approach from between the islands. Each day we were on the flats, however, we caught glimpses of trophy-sized fish that would top 10 pounds.
As they cruise along, dropping a fly in their path often attracts a strike. Once hooked, these fish take off like a runaway freight train, easily stripping 150 yards of line from your reel!
Another surprisingly good near-shore fishing hotspot on the cay is located on the beach fronting the swimming pool on the opposite side of the island! With a backdrop of club members and guests lounging on the beach, it was possible to spot pods of bonefish cruising just off the sand in easy casting reach. Admittedly, the fish on that side of the island were smaller, but still offered a challenge.
