I stopped by Don's Bait and Tackle in Homestead to pickup golden morsels aka permit candy. I grabbed a coffee and trekked toward Key Largo with no place to be or nothing to do for two days.
The sight of the turquoise dividers on US1 gave an immediate feeling of vacation and a visual cue to relax. I pulled over by Tea Table bridge in Islamorada where Papa Joe's restaurant used to be and reminisced of the days my dad used to take us down to the same spot. It is true what they say..if you look at things day to day nothing changes, but when you look back everything's different. I continued driving south with our hemisphere calling it a day at the same time.
It was dark by the time I arrived at my key of destination. I stopped for a quick snack at walgreens and a key deer nonchalantly walked through the parking lot like it was a normal thing.
I followed it for awhile and it didn't seem bothered by me at all. Eventually a state vehicle pulled up searching for the elusive creature but it was long gone by then.
I drove a few more miles and arrived at the kayak launch where I slept in the suv until early the next morning. At civil twilight I awoke, unloaded the gear, and meandered through a limestone and mangrove filled creek. The bugs kept me company during the jaunt through the lonely creek.
I pedaled toward a cluster of archipelago style islands on the edge of shallow limestone bed outcroppings. It was simply a gorgeous landscape.
The primary goal of this trip was to catch a permit on the flats so that's what I set out to do early on. The sun was still quite low as I poled the infamous white sand flats of the Lower Keys. There were a lot of cudas frolicking around but no signs of permit. I drifted further north past the islands but within the edge of the reefline. Sickle dorsal fins started popping up across the limestone flats two hundred yards away as the wind was completely nonexistent. The ocean was quiet, and flatter than I've ever seen it before. The dorsal fins submerged but was replaced by caudal fins dipping above the waters surface every 5 seconds as they swam closer to my vicinity. I threw a frisky live crab across their direction of predicted travel but it was either ignored or not seen. Just as fast as they appeared, they were gone and out of reach.
I poled west, parallel to the shore toward even shallower rock flats. I couldn't help but feel like I was in a very rich environment, teeming with life. This flat holds and nourishes life for so many species of aquatic life that it genuinely feels like an "epic flat" if there ever was such a thing.
As the tide dropped lower and the flat tapered off, a huge wake emerged 50 yards off the bow of the Hobie Oasis. The wake continued to increase in height and seemed to pick up speed as well. All of a sudden it stopped swimming and a large forked tail protruded from the crystal clear water. A solo permit. I grabbed my rod which was already rigged with a crab and waited for my shot. I casted in its path but my casting abilities may have been rusty because I was way short. I retrieved the crab and waited for another chance. The permit shot past me with great vigor and acceleration, I made a long cast 15ft ahead of it and let the crab flutter to the bottom. The permit's wake faded as it got closer to the splash created from the crab landing and then I saw its tail flick upward. I felt the subtle thump on my line, and set the hook!
The fish took off with lightning flash speed, dodging coralheads and seafans along the way. I raised the reel above my head to lessen the chance of getting broke off by the eight million sharp objects covering the seafloor. The permit took several long runs followed by a huge kick of its tail creating boils in the ocean. It swam toward deeper water where the crab traps littered and was starting to wear out after 20 minutes.
Luckily the sharks prowling the flats never took an interest in all the commotion. A few more swimming in circles and she was within arms reach.
After I snapped a few pics I grabbed its tail and breathed a sigh of relief! Permit landed. It's hard to explain if you haven't fished for permit on the flats before but there's a sense of accomplishment, proudness, and respect when you get your hand around ones tail. The permit represents a lot of things in the fishing world and mirrors most important things in life. The trials and tribulations, hard work, and never quit attitude it teaches you really puts things into perspective.
I've caught three permit before and they all had persistence and meaningfulness built around them but this one had a special significance to me and because of that, seeing it swim away was just as good as the hunt and the chase.
The pressure of a 500 mile trip to catch a permit was over and done with. I could now explore this tropical environment without constantly looking for tails. The sand flats closely resembled a swimming pool once the sun reached its apex.
I obtained a solid knowledge of the lay of the land surrounding the archipelago as I poled in and around the main island. I went back to looking for permit but since the tide came in there was no permit in sight. The cudas were everywhere though so I tied on a suspending Sebile and ripped it fast along the eye line of the laid up cudas. My braided line gave way on the first cuda I hooked. The next one smoked some line before I landed it.
Barracuda's are really cool looking fish and they don't get the attention they deserve as a gamefish. I could honestly fish for them all day and have a blast. No bogagrips here folks.
These guys really are as silvery as can be..it's a wonder that you can even see them sometimes.
I saw a few more permit the rest of the afternoon but they acted funny and would swim around a perfectly placed crab. They would travel in pairs so perhaps they had a mating mindset instead of chowing down. The sharks were active in the same area and were abundant in all sizes and colors.
The heat started getting to me around 4pm so I found a small sandy beach overlooking paradise to set up camp. I could live in this spot and not think twice about my decision.
I took the most relaxing nap for an hour and then jumped back in the kayak for a sundown session. I anchored on a flat adjacent to a channel and waited for something to swim by. The seabreeze kicked up and although nothing materialized fish-wise, it was the most chill sunset on the kayak I've experienced.
I ate dinner and went to sleep early as the day beat me up pretty good. The bugs were so thick on the mesh lining of the tent that I didn't think I could sleep. The wind picked up overnight, the clouds rolled through, and the temperatures dropped to where I would wake up because it was cold.
I was up early the next morning and greeted by a stiff northwest wind and ominous clouds moving toward the mainland. My plan of an early morning tailing permit was a washout and I instead fished the shallow rock ledges. I got slammed by countless houndfish and even got a pretty mutton snapper.
I slowly made my way back to the launch to outrun the weather. About two miles into my pedal back the clouds passed and the sky opened up. The wind died and all of a sudden there were schools of 8-15 permit floating with their fins out of the water. I made perfect presentations in front of the schools several times but had no takers. I messed with them for an hour then called it quits and headed back to the suv.
Before I got back to reality I stopped by The Island restaurant in Marathon where we used to eat when I was a kid. The food was absolutely phenomenal and the fried plantains definitely hit the spot after two days off the grid. The restaurant dock was loaded with parrotfish, a good way to spend time while waiting for your food.
I clashed with the cold front on the drive home and was reminded of how quickly weather can change down in south Florida. This was a great trip in all respects and I'm looking forward to the next adventure/retreat away from the world.
