Paul Whitehouse heads to Venezuela to experience this must visit saltwater destination

We landed on El Gran Roque to be greeted by the head Guide Walter Ehrlich and his team and from the 'airport' we just walked (there are no cars which is a real and welcome novelty in the world these days) to our new home for the week; the beautifully appointed and cool Malibu Posada. There we set about the business of tackling up in the atrium, and those of us who pretended we knew how to tie perfection loops and bimini twists quickly admitted defeat and enlisted the on hand help. We were here for the bonefish primarily, but also permit, tarpon, barracuda and anything else vaguely suicidal that swims.

The next morning we were on our way to the astonishing variety of flats that lie within forty minutes of El Gran Roque. I'm not an experienced saltwater fly fisherman having only been once before but it is a branch of angling that gets under your skin very quickly. The real joy of Los Roques apart from the truly unbelievable stocks of bonefish is the beauty and variety of the flats, most of which are fished on foot rather than from a boat. Some flats can take up to two hours to cross and it is never very long before you encounter yet another vast shoal of shadows working its way past. My fishing partner and I had what the Americans call 'double hookups' on numerous occasions and the fishing was as Walter described it 'hardcore' and 'intense', terms that soon crept into our vocabulary. Walter and Eric our other main guide, are excellent fishermen and casters and can spot bonefish from the bar. With their help we enjoyed some spectacular catches up to nine pounds. Not all our time was spent bonefishing. After a few hours on the flats I like to get out where there is a breeze! Here I have no worries about casting a popper to the marauding barracuda that patrol the drop off zones. One huge female barracuda in particular that I eventually lost, frightened the life out of me (like most huge females in fact) by grabbing my popper four yards from the boat. As Walter put it, she was 'lit up'.

We spent a fun couple of hours stalking some huge permit that came closer than I have ever seen permit come before but as is often the way with permit they weren't in the business of being caught. Maybe they just weren't 'lit up'. One abiding memory I have of our stay took place on a small, exquisite, pancake flat that emerged from the blue as the tide fell. Here we spent a fun couple of hours watching the birds crash-diving schools of baitfish while hungry Blue Runners savaged the tiny fish from below. If you got there in time you were guaranteed some furious sport with the fly for a while before the baitfish disappeared. Great stuff and in the most beautiful and unspoilt region you could imagine.

When the fishing was over for the day, there remained the arduous task of lying in the hammock on the roof of the Posada until dinnertime. Then perhaps a little stroll along the front for a drink. Can't wait to get back.

Paul Whitehouse