According to Randall Kaufmann's book "Bone-fishing" the first bonefish caught on a fly occurred in Florida in 1924 and was actually an accident. A fluke. The angler, one Holmes Allen, was fishing for snapper and a bonefish with an identity crisis ate his fly. I know several people who maintain that every bonefish they ever caught was an accident. Mi amigo Jerry Clark caught one whilst dragging a heavily weighted crab fly along the bottom of a channel so deep we couldn't see bottom. He claimed he knew there were bonefish down there ready to eat that crab fly. People say you can't blind cast for bonefish but Jerry has a bad habit of proving all those fishing commandments wrong. He's done it more than once in my presence. It'd be okay if he wouldn't act so smug and sing while he was doing it. Accidental or on purpose, catching a bonefish is exciting.

Since 1924 I reckon thousands bonefish have been caught using the long rod. I myself can vouch for at least a dozen or so. I even have pictures -- although some of my friends claim those pictures are all the same fish, I just changed shirts to make it look like a different fish. Suffice to say that our knowledge about fly fishing for bonefish has taken quantum leaps since 1924. We've learned there are better flies than snapper flies anyway. Having just returned from a successful bonefishing trip to South Andros Island, Bill Armon and I thought it would be good to share some of our recent lessons purely in interest in furthering the sport. We suspect we aren't the first ones to experience these lessons and if some thoughtful bonefisher-person had shared their lessons with us we might have had an even better trip. But then again we might not have paid a bit of attention to them anyway because after all we are wise, savvy, flyfishermen with many years of experience between us. Let's begin.

Lesson #1: Pack light and pack smart. Expect your luggage to go somewhere far removed from your bonefishing destination. Airline luggage handlers have been trained to sniff out bonefisherpeople headed to the Bahamas or some other remote destination. They have a big belly laugh sitting on those luggage wagons under the terminals telling their mates how they just sent some bonefisher's luggage to Iceland and that bone-fisher will have to fish the entire week in a button down shirt and Dockers. Even better if he had on a pair of $400 python cowboy boots. To avoid this potential uncomfortableness, pack a carry on bag with everything you need to fish plus a change of clothes. On the plane, wear a fishing shirt and pair of those trousers that the legs zip off. You can rinse them out each night and let it dry the next day while you wear the pair from your carry on. Bring a reel, a fly box, tippet material, a rod, hat, Polaroid sunglasses, and sunscreen. These are the essentials for bonefishing. Break off that little file from your fingernail clippers and bring them (that way the airport security will let you through). Lord knows how many planes have been hijacked by a guy brandishing a pair of fingernail clippers. For the second trip in a row to the Bahamas my luggage went somewhere else. So did Josh's. But since we planned to overnight in Nassau we were fortunate that by 10pm that evening all our gear arrived. That's another good idea. Overnight at a larger destination with several arriving flights after yours so when your luggage goes walkabout you at least have a chance to get it before you head to that remote bonefish Shangri-la that has only one Bahamas Air flight a week.

Lesson #2: Training. To be a successful bonefisher-person takes training and dedication. You can't simply walk out on the flats and start catching bonefish. No, young grasshopper. That just isn't done. Here's a couple photos showing good training technique.

Note the contemplative yet relaxed position. Note the jaunty way I'm holding my beer. And it's the local brew too. Don't be so crude as to drink mega-advertised, mass produced American brew in the Bahamas. Support the local economy. Here's another shot showing Josh wringing the last drops from his Kalik.

Don't be wasteful. Besides, you may need all that sustenance before the day is over. And don't forget lunch. Like distance bicycle riders, it's a learned skill to be able to refuel in the middle of the contest. Don't wait to the last minute to practice these skills.

Lesson #3: Guide etiquette. When your guide says there's a bonefish at 1 o'clock, 30 feet, acknowledge that fish even if you can't see anything but turtle grass, sand, and a starfish. When the guide sees fish that are 15 feet from the boat and spooked, don't make snide comments about having a little more time to make the cast. Memorize a set of really good excuses for why a bonefish gets off. If you lose a fish and don't have a really good excuse the guide can get surly. If they point out fish and you say "Where, I don't see anything?" they think you aren't trying. If you make snide comments about their fish sighting or boat poling ability they can get downright pissy. When that happens they drop you off on flats that are knee deep in muck, point out a landmark several kilometers away and tell you they'll meet you there with the boat. Some may even threaten you with a barracuda.

Or they'll take you back to the boat ramp 45 minutes early claiming they thought they heard you say you were bored and wanted to go in. Guides are fragile, delicate creatures. Treat them accordingly. And whatever you do, don't throw your guide overboard when they get pissy, that really makes them mad.

Lesson #4: Schmooze the cook. Besides your guide, the most important person you need to make nice with is the cook. The cook can make your trip an out of body experience or can make it so you wish you were out of your body. The cook controls what food you eat, the quality of the food, how much of it, and when you get to eat it. So even if the wind and rain are at hurricane level, you haven't seen a fish other than the pictures on the lodge wall, your guide is getting aggro, and you're wearing the same pair of tighty whiteys for the fourth day in a row, if you schmooze the cook at least you'll eat well.

Lesson #5: Consider hiring a charter plane if you have 3 or more people. Charters are available from Nassau to Andros for around $350. This pays for the entire plane and all the weight it can carry. Four people with an average amount of gear will pretty much fill up the plane. But split four ways the charter fee is nearly the same as the Bahamas Air fee. But for the few extra Samolies you get to pick the time to be picked up, don't have to hassle with luggage retrieval and losses, and you are more likely to get to your destination on time. In the Bahamas, it's worth it.

Lesson #6: Watch out for squids. But that's a story for another time.