BONEFISH 



sized specimen. Even to my prejudiced eye that 

 fish showed class. So I began to question the bone- 

 fishermen. 



At once I found this type of angler to be remark- 

 ably reticent as to experience and method. More- 

 over, the tackle used was amazing to me. Stiff rods 

 and heavy lines for little fish! I gathered another 

 impression, and it was that bonefish were related 

 to dynamite and chain lightning. Everybody who 

 would listen to my questions had different things to 

 say. No two men agreed on tackle or bait or ground 

 or anything. I enlisted the interest of my brother 

 R. C, and we decided, just to satisfy curiosity, to 

 go out and catch some bonefish. The complacent, 

 smug conceit of fishermen! I can see now how 

 funny ours was. Fortunately it is now past tense. 

 If I am ever conceited again I hope no one will read 

 my stories. 



My brother and I could not bring ourselves to 

 try for bonefish with heavy tackle. It was pre- 

 posterous. Three — ^four — five-pound fish! We had 

 seen no larger. Bass tackle was certainly heavy 

 enough for us. So in the innocence of our hearts 

 and the assurance of one vanity we sallied forth to 

 catch bonefish. 



That was four years ago. Did we have good 

 luck? No! Luck has nothing to do with bone- 

 fishing. What happened? For one solid month 

 each winter of those four years we had devoted our- 

 selves to bonefishing with light tackle. We stuck 

 to our colors. The space of this whole volume would 

 not be half enough to tell our experience — the amaze, 

 the difficulty, the perseverance, the defeat, the won- 



109 



