Stalking the Stalker on Acklins Island, Bahamas

by Jeff Rodenberg with introduction by Brandon Rabke

Earlier this year I took advantage of an opportunity to travel to Acklins Island in the southern Bahamas for a week of DIY bonefishing. Joining me there were Michael Schweit and Jeff Rodenberg, two fishermen who, though I hadn’t met in person before, I knew before setting out that we at least had a couple of things in common: a shared passion for fly fishing for bonefish while wading pristine Bahamian flats, and a mutual acquaintance who had put us in touch with each other. After exchanging several emails, and then an eventual meeting on Zoom, the three of us agreed that we would meet up on Aklins in late May and share expenses on a cottage at Ivel’s B&B.

The accommodations were nice and, using a car provided by Ivel’s, we had a great time exploring up and down the island and trying our luck at various secluded and seldom visited flats that we encountered along the way. I enjoyed the DIY experience on Acklins. I waded a lot of pretty water, caught a few nice bones each day, and I returned home thinking that I wouldn’t have minded a few extra days of fishing.

Jeff, on the other hand, actually did stay and fish longer. He remained several more days on Acklins and then he went over to Crooked Island (located just across the

Brandon with Bonefish

Bight of Aklins) for another week and a half. I had been back home in Austin for about a month when I received an email from Jeff containing his frank and amusing recap (see following article) of his three-week fishing trip to the Bahamas.

The fishing on Acklins Island was….well….how do I put this….spectacularly gratifying even if not as productive as many of us have become accustomed to in the Bahamas. How about that? This was true of my entire stay - all 3 weeks in May - inclusive of the half spent with Kenny on Crooked Island. I can say I have never seen such OCD/menstrual/unsettled weather in 25 years of trips to the Bahamas. In one way it can be frustrating, but in a way it’s comforting to know it can’t get much worse save for a direct hit by a Cat. 4 hurricane or bigger and I still caught bones! The daily switch in wind direction, with lots from the SW holding the tide in and excessively frequent rain really messed the fish up. I ALMOST felt sorry for the fish.

I did manage to pick up a few crumbs, particularly my last couple days at Binnacle 1 when I at least felt minimally competent. I walked into the coconut trees, then went NE to the broad black rock point and very slowly waded my way back during the last half of the falling tide thru dead low and first half the incoming during late morning. It was some truly glorious fishing - again, not for numbers but for a few better than average fish actually showing some tail or dorsal in the off weather. Funny thing….I’d been stalking along for about 45 minutes, to where all my senses were focused on maintaining near-zero physical presence while looking for fish. Just sheer, serene, nirvana goin’ on, without another soul for miles. Very abruptly this was shattered by an ENORMOUS, almost earth shattering EXPLOSION of water behind me not a foot from my ass. Turns out a 5-6 foot lemon shark had been following my little trail of foot disturbance and recognized at the last second that he wasn’t following bonefish. I literally….and I do mean literally…cleared the water by about 3 feet, shrieked like a little girl, and a little bit of shit was left in my pants. I’m serious, I just threw those underwear away when I got back to the room…That’s a memory I’ll carry to the grave, in the most positive sense. THAT’S the type of thing I’m paying for on these trips.

In general, and maybe just a bit selfish and a touch out of scope, I think I came to prefer Acklins to Crooked. It’s just more basic, more raw, more real. The whole thing going on with building out Pittstown on Crooked Island for the offshore crowd is influencing things in Landrail a bit “differently” than I would prefer. Don’t get me wrong, that’s more a reflection on my own personal character defect(s). While I want my friends in Landrail to prosper and totally get that probably means more tourism volume and/or expense, I don’t want it to change - I like the rough edges that keep the less intrepid from visiting. Maybe that makes me one messed up puppy, but on the good side it’s a pretty fair bet that I’ll be arranging another visit to Acklins.