With a pod of permit scything toward him 200 feet away, Eric Anderson did what might seem odd to most saltwater flats enthusiasts, maybe even a little crazy.
The Carbondale resident slid quietly over the side of the boat and began wading an intercept course toward fish now angling slightly to his left. With the distance quickly closing, Anderson made a couple of false casts and deposited a crab fly in front of the approaching fish.
One permit peeled from the pack, grabbed the fly and a few minutes later Anderson struck a happy pose with a silvery 15-pounder.
Now for really good part. His cast traveled less than 40 feet, about half what one might normally expect in the eyeblink world of spooky permit, arguably the most easily alarmed fish on the flats.
Things got even better for others in a group of Colorado anglers who made a November trip to Tierra Maya Lodge (www.tierramaya.net) in the village of Xcalak on the extreme southern coast of Yucatán. One caught a permit barely 30 feet away. Largely because they were in the water, two other anglers scored a rare permit double, landing two large fish from the same pod.
Wade fishing for permit isn’t at all a new idea. What’s surprising is how few enthusiasts who cast flies to this most elusive species actually try it. Fighting against several elements of complexity and certain principles of common sense, most continue to flail away from the tall platform of various flats boats with dauntingly long casts amid difficult wind currents. Of course, most fail.
Considering the visual projection of a guide poling from an elevated platform or an angler waving a shiny rod from a raised deck, it’s a wonder boat fishermen ever get much of a shot at all.
Certainly this at least partially explains the celebrated degree of difficulty that keeps most anglers from sharing a photograph with a fish.
Put this same angler in the water and the odds shift dramatically. With the top of his hat just 3 feet above the surface, the angler can wade beneath the permit’s visual radar; fish sometimes approach almost within a rod’s length.
The advantages are obvious: Shorter casts can be delivered with pinpoint accuracy, even against a strong wind; less line on the water facilitates a more effective retrieve and hook set; when a first cast fails to produce a strike, it’s easy to make another before the fish are out of range.
That exceptional double hookup became possible because other permit in the pod never saw the low-profile angler when the first fish was hooked. They flushed only a few yards, then resumed their normal feeding cruise. When the pod swam a broad arc, the second angler was able to wade into position for his own fish — again with an easy cast of about 40 feet.
All that’s needed to gain this advantage is a relatively firm bottom, water less than chest deep and the willingness to get wet, something that actually can be a treat on a warm day in the tropics. Further, the angler gains a special sense of satisfaction from having performed more of the task himself, and from the intimacy that comes from being in the water with the fish.
Charlie Meyers: 303-954-1609 or cmeyers@denverpost.com
