I learned a lot on my recent weekend in Bermuda. Not all of it was about Bone fishing. To be honest, not very much of it was about Bone fishing, but I think I've armed myself with enough info to be dangerous on my next trip. When asked what I learned on the trip, my first thought is of the various cocktails I now know I enjoy; Pina Coladas, Daquaris, and Yellow Birds all go down smooth. I even came across a Bermudian ale called Whale of a Tale Ale, which I rather liked. But, none of this has to do with fishing, so I'll move on.
I knew Bremuda was a British colony, and I knew Britian has different property use laws, but I never put two and two together. Finding an area with both Bones, and access isn't easy. After several inquiries, it seemed as if I would be forced to pay big bucks to fish with the local flyfishing guide service, Jump Dem Bones. http://www.jumpdembones.free.bm/
One gentleman suggested I try fishing Somerset Long Bay on the west end of the island, though he admitted he knew little about Bone fishing. He thought the area might be good, having seen people flycasting there several times in the past. I filed this info away, hoping it wouldn't be the best I got. It wasn't.
On Saturday the wife and I took a stroll around the city of Hamilton. Fortunately, directly across the street from the bus depot is a tackle shop. Fly Bridge Tackle is located at 26 Church St, and it is there that Fly Bridge proprietor Eddie Cook filled in a few blanks about fishing Bermuda, and provided a spot to fish. While Eddie doesn't carry any flyfishing tackle, he does have just about everything else. Most importantly, local knowledge. And he's friendly too, as are most people on the island. If you're planning to go to Bermuda and wish to fish, pay Eddie a visit.
Sunday I was eager to make my way to the area Eddie recommended. Just a bit over a mile away from our hotel, Whale Bone bay is a public access beach and park on the western side of St. George Parish. A short bus ride, and a slightly longer walk would get us there. I'd fish, while Junko relaxed and caught rays on the beach. It was not to be. Though the sun still shined, and the weather was warm, mother nature saw fit to bestow upon us a 25knot west wind. I wasn't fishing in that. Heart broken I set out on a path of recovery, wearing a well worn trail between the hot tub, and the bar. Fishing, or not; Bermuda doesn't suck.