Any avid fly-fisherman will tell you that no matter how many fish have been caught over the years, there is always one fish on the bucket list that is waiting to be sought after.  Whether this fish resides in a completely different continent, or is the giant that has made his home under the bridge in your local river, there are fish that give fly-fisherman a reason to get out on the water and keep casting. Three years ago, I wrote my college essay on the never ending pursuit of a fish and how fly fishing will forever be a passion that keeps me going. And this week, after countless numbers of casts, trips, and fish caught over the years, I finally held the fish of a lifetime: my first Silver King.

For those who have experienced fly fishing for tarpon, most will tell you that the raw adrenaline and pursuit is what differs itself among other fly fishing opportunities. Not only can this fish be extremely allusive and unpredictable when searching for, but most experienced saltwater fly-anglers would testify that this is potentially the hardest fish to physically “land” in the world. Whether this is because of their rock hard mouths with little cartilage or soft spots for hook penetration, or from the multiple airborne jumps that create slack in the fly line within milliseconds, being able to have a “Kodak moment” with a tarpon on the fly is truly a special moment.

In pursuit of my first silver king, my family and I traveled to Isla Holbox, Mexico for the last week of summer in hopes of both tarpon and a relaxing week before my senior year of college began.  We went fishing with the Isla Holbox Tarpon Club with our guides Jorge and Valentine, and with relatively good conditions, the week would turn out to be one for the ages. On our first day on the water, after jumping two 30-40 pound tarpon on big chartreuse bunnies and other natural colored deceivers, we entered a cove in which led into the vast mangroves that juvenile tarpon call home year round. Standing on the bow of the boat, and having seen a school of about fifteen tarpon rolling along a deep channel before the mangrove trees, I let out about a 50 foot cast with a green and tan tarpon bunny. One strip… two strips… ten strips…the fish finally hit right at the boat. After a 15 minute fight and much anticipation of getting the silver king to the boat, my first tarpon was landed and a sigh of relief along with multiple shouts of “YES!” made the day worth it all.

Day two of fishing would turn out to be the best of the trip: a total of four tarpon were landed, along with eight more jumped throughout the day. The sheer numbers of schooling tarpon in Isla Holbox was unbelievable, and although the juvenile tarpon definitely were picky with flies and spooky in the gin-clear shallow water, my dad and I found the days relaxing in that finding more fish never seemed to be a long-term event. With this trip primarily focused on fishing for the juvenile tarpon, the fish ranges from 8-25 pounds for the week, with multiple bigger fish broken off on our 40 pound bite tippet (increasing the tippet weight led to spooked fish).

The last two days of fishing, although successful, were indeed more difficult and challenging. Although hundreds of tarpon were seen throughout the day, heavy rains in the afternoon increased barometric pressure making these fish more than difficult to hook. Nothing can be more frustrating to a fly-angler than seeing fish chase a fly all day, but not commit to the eat. However, changing to 25 pound bite tippet and throwing small natural colored deceivers ended up being the trick. These last two days of fishing proved that although traditional tarpon flies will work for bigger fish in normal conditions, when pressure is high and fish are spooky, don’t be afraid to reach for flies with a smaller body and a MUCH smaller hook. Although landing tarpon with smaller hooks and lighter tippet is exponentially more difficult, it will allow more hookups to happen, and for a seemingly unproductive day to become a success. As for the last two days of fishing, three tarpon came to the boat with four broken off, and at least ten more eats recorded. The last fish of the week consisted of a strong juvenile tarpon that peeled to the backing of my Sage XI3, and had the fly line cut my fingers on the take (third picture below).

Another plus for the week was the variety of other species caught on the fly. We caught several snook inhabiting the mangroves with the tarpon, and although no monsters were caught, some snook in the mangroves were bigger than the tarpon themselves. These Isla Holbox snook were not only aggressive towards a fly, but also made some tarpon commit to the fly before their counterparts capitalized on the opportunity. Barracuda, mangrove snapper, and other reef fish also were caught on the fly throughout the week (some unfortunately at times when a big tarpon was chasing the fly in). We also encountered two schools of permit in the late afternoon, along with bigger adult tarpon offshore on the third day of fishing: giving us a reason to soon return to Isla Holbox. Taking a day off of fishing to also swim with the hundreds of whale sharks (ranging from 21-27 feet in length) that inhabit this island was also a lifetime memory that will never be forgotten.  Although catching my first silver king will forever be a memory that I cherish in my fly-fishing career, getting to share this memory with my dad and mom is something that I wouldn’t trade for the world. As I continue to get older, I begin to personally experience that solely catching fish has not made fly-fishing a passion to me: being able to spend time with those I love, and finding something that returns me to my faith is what makes fly-fishing “my thing.” The amount of times my dad has let me have the first cast towards a rolling tarpon or tailing redfish has not only showed me the meaning of why fly-fishing brings the best out of people, but it has allowed me to discover my best friend in my dad, and to discover a heart in my mom that has done so much for me growing up.  

Here’s to the Silver King, and to the King upstairs who has blessed us with the lives that we live today.

Tight lines,

Joe