Now that we have covered the bonefishing at Christmas
Island, let’s get into all the other species you will have a chance to pursue. For many repeat visitors to
the island, bonefish begin to take a back seat to the exhilarating giant
trevally, barracuda, milkfish, sharks and triggerfish lurking nearly
everywhere. Black tips are the prevalent
species of shark found on the flats, with other species preferring to hang out
near the deeper reefs. Like any saltwater
destination, some guides don’t want anything to do with casting at sharks. Others say, “I can handle.” It goes without saying that these creatures can
totally mess you up if you give them a chance.
There is no hospital to speak of here, so exercise your best judgement
and err on the side of caution. In my
experience, Go Like Hell flat has sharks cruising it nearly every day.
The same flies you throw at giant trevally are generally
fine for sharks. Ten to twelve weights
and 100 pound tippet are the norm, and you can certainly throw a steel leader
into the mix for these toothy brawlers.
When casting at sharks, match your retrieve to the speed of the
fish. Keep the fly on their nose,
speeding up when they do, slowing down when they do as well. Most of the time black tips will follow the
fly the whole retrieve and then sulk away, but other times, it’s game on! Let your guide handle the shark, but if
you’re by yourself, use a hook release and stay behind the shark, moving
quickly. Just cut the tippet if things
get too hairy.
Milkfish are probably more abundant than any other species
on the flats of Christmas Island. For
the first few days of your trip to Christmas, learning the difference between
milks and bones will present its own set of challenges. If you boil it down, milkfish suspend,
bonefish hug the bottom. If there is a
shadow under the fish, it’s usually a milkfish.
Many anglers come to Christmas solely for the milkfish, and catching one
is no small feat. Milks eat algae, which
presents the first challenge. The second
challenge is finding a leader and fly that suspend,
like the milkfish do. Flies comprised of
foam and sponge fit the bill, and bringing along some monofilament tippet and
floatant will aid this endeavor. Huge
milkfish can be found outside of the flats behind commercial fishing boats,
which kick up large amounts of algae and plankton.
Pound for pound, milkfish will fight you like there’s no
tomorrow. Few fish can bend an eight
weight like these fast fish can. If you
are targeting bones on the flats, don’t overlook the massive schools of milkfish. Bones and milkfish focus on different food
groups, but they can easily work together since they work different levels of
the water column. More often than not, a
few nice bonefish can be picked out of a pod of milks. Milkfish are the hardest thing to catch on
Christmas Island, with the only exception being the venerable giant trevally. GTs eat the fly just fine, but getting one in
front of these fast thugs is a whole different deal.
Giant trevally make fly fishers salivate the world
over. They are ridiculously fast. They come up on a flat like a drive by
shooting, and most of the time it’s too late for you to react because they’re already gone. Christmas Island boasts excellent numbers
of giant, black, bluefin and golden trevally, but the giants are the true prize
fish and prize fight. Bluefin are
practically everywhere, and provide a good fight, but rarely exceed a pound or
two. More than once a rascally bluefin
has snatched a well presented fly to a bigger golden or giant in my
experience. Golden trevally are
beautifully banded across their backs, and can get pretty big at Christmas. Goldens seem to tail more often than their
cousins, I have hustled across flats a few times after seeing one tailing at a
good distance away. Giant trevally, or
GT, can push 100 pounds at Christmas Island.
You will see them up to twenty pounds every day, and when the true
bruisers come in to play, your heart rate will give you a run for your money.
The usual program on Christmas is for your guide to carry
the trevally rod while you bonefish with your seven or eight. The true guide test presents itself when the
GTs come by, and their ability to see them, ready the heavy rod and pull line
off in time for you to make a shot. This
rarely goes the way it’s supposed to.
When you combine their speed and your case of the yips, a general shit
show usually prevails. Chumming these
big fish is becoming more and more popular, and to each their own, but we
generally refrain from doing this.
Chumming doesn’t do these magical fish any favors, but for many anglers
this is the way to do it. Milkfish are
usually netted and roasted for chum, but bonefish are often an unfortunate
by-catch when netting the milks. As
mentioned, to each their own, but you won’t see me out there chumming fish in.
Christmas Island has thousands of volcanic shelves along the
flats, and every one of these has small yellow snapper using them for
shelter. Seeing trevally rooting around
underneath them is commonplace. Trevally
will eat practically anything they can catch, be it bonefish, milkfish,
grouper, whatever. Again, fly selection
isn’t nearly as important as just getting the fly in front of the fish in
time. Tim Heng employs a good trick for
these quick presentations by simply hooking a baitfish GT fly onto the hook of
his bonefish fly and recasting. This can
present a problem if the fish is huge and you’ve got 10 pound tippet on, but at
least you gave it a college try! There’s
one general rule on how to strip the fly for GTs. Fast as you can. You simply can’t strip it fast enough. Once in a great while, true giants want the
fly slowed down a bit, but this is pretty rare.
When you catch a big bone or manage to wrestle in a
triggerfish or trevally, getting a bit emotional comes with the territory. My guide Kau Kau gave me a little ribbing for
the tears in my eyes after we released a gorgeous seven pound bonefish in
October. “Like a virgin,” he said. We laughed about it all week, and he promised
not to tell anyone except his wife.
Well, I’m not too embarrassed to admit beautiful fish in beautiful places
make me a little weepy. So be it. Preparing for a trip to
Christmas can be stressful (and a big part of the fun), and when the whole plan
finally comes together and you’re holding that mirrored bonefish in your hand
on a fly you tied yourself, I challenge you to not become a little overwhelmed
and 20 shades of thankful. That will
never change for me, and I hope Christmas Island changes very little in the
years to come.
Words by Scott Spooner
Photographs courtesy of Scott Spooner, Cameron Scott, Rocky and Janet Mangini, John Marlow, Randy Hughes
No comments:
Post a Comment