“That’s our guy, that’s our guide with the hat on”, Dad told me as we walked at a quick pace to where he was standing. “Tommy and Thomas? My name is Orlando” said a short and stocky, thick-accented local. I practically sprinted to Orlando’s stick shift Ford Ranger, due to the fact I hadn’t been saltwater fishing since last August. Not only was I going to be saltwater fishing, but saltwater fly fishing for tarpon in Isla Blanca, Mexico. My animation only heightened when the first object I saw in the truck was a brand new Orvis Recon fly rod tube. I had high expectations for the day and week, to say the least.

After a 30 minute ride and lots of bumps on a long dirt road, we arrived at the dock. Once we paused at the entrance to look at a neighbor’s pet tiger, we loaded up the boat. The boat was about an 18 foot panga skiff with a 40 horsepower shaft driven outboard. The boat had a polling platform and no electronics, it was the perfect setup for fly fishing. We took off once we left the shallow water, which is considered anything less than inches in Mexico. We headed towards a break in the mangroves and at this point, I was enthralled with the rugged beauty of Quintana Roo’s crystal clear water and plush greenery that surrounded us. After about an hour and twenty minute ride through the mangroves and inlet, we turned into a patch of mangroves. I think I counted three other boats the whole trip to our fishing grounds.

“Long slow strips Tomas, put it a foot in front of their noses” Orlando informed me as he was putting the Recon together. Shortly after I made a few practice casts, Orlando got the push pole out and we began the stalk. My father was simply an observer due to a recent shoulder surgery. Though he was not able to fish alongside me, he was still filled with excitement. As we polled through the vast mangroves, I was very eager to begin casting, but there were no tarpon in sight. When Orlando told me to look to my 11 o’clock, I was shocked to see a very good size tarpon. Tarpon in these parts were typically 15-30 pounds, and this fish was easily 40+. I messed up my first cast and became frustrated right off the bat. I began to loose hope as the fish swam back in the mangroves. We polled to another section of the mangroves and seemed to hit the honey hole. There were six or so good fish all within my reach. Though I messed up a few casts at the start, they would swim back and I began putting the fly right in front of them. “Strip, strip, strip” Orlando would say. This went on for another hour with countless singles and groups of tarpon. No matter what I did, they just wouldn’t even think about biting it. I am no professional fly fishermen by any means, but I put the fly where it needed to be several times and moved it the way it was meant to move.

We broke for lunch and enjoyed ice cold Coca Cola’s paired with ham sandwiches. Who would have thought the best ham sandwich I would ever taste would be on a boat in Mexico. After all three of us were finished with our shore lunch, Orlando inquired on what we wanted to do next. We agreed to try our luck with the barracuda. He handed me the spinning rod and tied on a large red and white popper with a wire leader. “Cast it out as far as you can and reel as fast as you can” Orlando informed me. So I did as I was told and halfway back on the retrieve, I knew it worked. In a split second there was a huge commotion on the surface by my popper and then my drag started racing. The cuda was taking off across the channel towards the open water. I slowly began gaining line back and making progress. When he was 20 yards from the boat and surging towards us, he slung into the air. The whole boat went wild. After what felt like forever, Orlando was able to net him. We exchanged high fives and snapped a few pictures. It was certainly nice to have the skunk out of the boat.

Shortly after, we headed to the flats to try our luck on bonefish and permit. I emphasize the words “try” and “luck”. After over an hour of casting and polling, we had only seen one bonefish and one group of permit. The wind was howling and the sun was getting to all of us. Needless to say we packed everything up and went back to the docks having only caught one barracuda.

This first day pretty much summed up the other days of fishing. The next day we caught two barracuda and one snapper, after fishing for tarpon for 4 hours straight in the brutal Mexican sun. The very last day it poured rain and had gusts of wind up to 25. We still managed to catch one trout, one blue runner, and one jack. This trip though disappointing, taught me a lesson. It taught me that just because I am surrounded by fish, does not mean they will bite. I know that my search for catching a tarpon is not over and I will never forget the first real attempt at catching one.