One skiff, one day, two rods, two Grand Slams

Thursday, March 13th had not started well for me; too much Cuban Club Rum on top of too much red wine the night before in La Tortuga's dining room, floating serenely above the flats of Jardines de La Reina, Cuba. I was, to put it mildly, feeling fragile as we headed to the flats.

Although we had caught tarpon and bonefish every day, the permit were true to pernickety form. Dick had never caught one before, I had landed only six in twenty years of saltwater fishing but never a Grand Slam.

Within minutes of leaving La Tortuga, Dick was at the front of the skiff as Coki, our guide, poled us into a mangrove lined channel. 'Cast, Cast!' yelled Coki as two tarpon emerged from the mangroves close by. Dick made his first cast of the day, the lead fish rushed forward and engulfed the fly, Dick struck several times and, after a very spirited fight, the tarpon was landed, photographed and released. With no signs of any more of these bruisers Coki decided to head off for bonefish.

By lunchtime we had had our fill, with a considerable number in the bag between us around the 7lbs mark. Now for the elusive permit!

A couple of hours and no permit later and I thought it was going to be one of those days. Fortunately I was wrong; 'Single big fish coming right at us, 90 feet, eleven o'clock,' whispered Coki.

At 60 feet Dick made his cast and the crab pattern sank in front of the fish. Stripping slowly, the permit rushed forward and gobbled the fly. A strike and instantly it was screaming out into the deeper water. Twenty minutes of heart-stopping tussle later and Dick had his 28lb first permit, and his first Grand Slam!

It was my turn now and suddenly Coki again piped up 'Three permit, deep water, 60 feet, 12 o'clock!' My first cast led the fish by three feet. A slow strip and all three rushed the fly, but ignored it. On the next cast all three again rushed in and again ignored it. The last chance and Coki swung the boat against the wind to give me the cast. The crab pattern sank, they moved onto it, I retrieved. One suddenly rushed forward and nailed the fly, I struck and held on. Landed!

Now all I had to do was catch a tarpon. Two hours later I had jumped but lost six tarpon and was a bag of nerves and excitement. It was 7pm and the sun was setting but just then we saw a fish cruising in amongst the mangroves, I cast three feet in front of him and began to retrieve. Wham! I felt the weight of the fish on the line, struck instinctively and a very surprised tarpon was tail walking towards the skiff as Coki was leaping up and down. Over the years I have landed a number of 100lb plus tarpon but, at that moment, none meant as much to me as that baby mangrove fish.

Mission accomplished. Two Grand Slams on the same day and from the same skiff! Thank you Cuba, Coki and La Tortuga!

Jack Simpson