BONEFISH 



impressions. No one will ever believe how powerful 

 a bonefish is until he has tried to stop the rush and 

 heard the line snap. As for his cunning, it is utterly 

 baflBing. As for his biting, it is almost imperceptible. 

 As for his tactics, they are beyond conjecture. 



I want to append here a few passages from my 

 note-books, in the hope that a bare, bald statement 

 of fact will help my argument. 



First experience on a bonefish shoal. This wide 

 area of coral mud was dry at low tide. When we 

 arrived the tide was rising. Water scarcely a foot 

 deep, ^very clear. Bottom white, with patches of 

 brown grass. We saw bonefish everywhere and 

 expected great sport. But no matter where we 

 stopped we could not get any bites. Schools of 

 bonefish swam up to the boat, only to dart away. 

 Everywhere we saw thin white tails sticking out, as 

 they swam along, feeding with noses in the mud. 

 When we drew in our baits we invariably found them 

 half gone, and it was our assumption that the blue 

 crabs did this. 



At sunset the wind quieted. It grew very still 

 and beautiful. The water was rosy. Here and 

 there we saw swirls and tails standing out, and we 

 heard heavy thumps of plunging fish. But we 

 could not get any bites. 



When we returned to camp we were told that the 

 halt of our soldier-crab baits had been sucked oflf 

 by bonefish. Did not believe that. 



Tide bothered us again this morning. It seems 



exceedingly difficult to tell one night before what 



the tide is going to do the next morning. At ten 



111 



