I can't stop thinking about my last shot at a permit. One of my favorite guides, Evaristo Sanchez, had taken my wife and I the to reef that guards the small fishing village of Xcalak. We had fished with him for the past few years and our team work was clicking... so I could sense his indecision before we arrived.
He said 'We'll stop here for just a few minutes and see what happens.' He mentioned that big permit liked to feed on the reef during the incoming tide. Hearing that, the beat of my heart began to increase.
The sun was low on the horizon and the lighting was stunning. The waves of the Caribbean Ocean gently rolled over the reef. A shipwrecked sail boat was abandoned on the reef in the distance. The scene was perfect. And it suddenly improved.
A large black sickle shaped tail broke through the waves. Evaristo saw it first at 100+ yards. I could feel my heart beat in my toes as the boat slowly moved closer to the grand fish. This fish was clearly on the reef to feed. It's tail spent as much time in the air as in the water. This would be the perfect shot.
As the distance between the boat the fish shortened, I could see the fish. My mind registered that it was a big fish, a really big fish. Evaristo too made the fish, 'That's a big one' he said. My hands began to tremble. The fish was barely within casting distance. Evaristo told me to cast. I did.
Maybe it was the rapid heart rate, my shaking hands, or buckling knees that kept me from putting the fly where it needed to be. I tried a few more times but is wasn't gonna happen. I grabbed my wading boots and quickly slipped them on. Cautiously, I exited the boat and slowly moved toward the giant permit.
This was it. I could clearly see the fish as it hunted for the next crab. It was going to eat my fly. I just need to put it front of it.
I took a deep breath and heard Evaristo whisper to my wife 'Come on Damien, get him'. The cast extended, nearly perfect. The fly landed a foot or two left of my target, but the fish was moving in that direction, so I let it sit. With a little luck, it would see the fly in three, two, one... SHIT.
The fish turned, not spooked, just changed its feeding path. SHIT. The fish was swimming closer, but I couldn't move my line and cast again. It was swimming under the line and if the line moved that fish would undoubtably spook. If I didn't move, there was a chance (a slim chance) it would swim past me, continuing to feed and allowing me to make another attempt at fooling him.
I held firm, not moving a muscle. I held my breath as it came within 10 feet of me. I could see the yellow on it's underside. I could clearly make out the mighty fish's black tail. It's eyes were huge and as I saw it's eyes, it saw mine.
The surface of water broke a final time as the fish swam for the safety of deeper water. I kept my eyes on it for as far as I could, hoping it would settle in and start feeding again. The fish never stopped and the perfect opportunity came and went.
Disappointed and discouraged, I returned to the boat.
That moment is still with me and I wondered why. Why has that moment been imprinted in my memory? Is it regret? No. It is because of the shaking hands, the buckling knees, and the rapid heart beat... I want that feeling again.
The reason that I fish for permit isn't for the reward. It isn't to catch the fish. I fish for permit for the opportunity to feel myself. It's not the fish that we catch that keep us coming back, it's the ones that get away.
If you want to feel your heart beat sore as a permit enters your space (or vice versa) then please contact us, we'll be happy to help you create a memory like this one.