Fishing Report #13
April 20 – 27, 2025
Welcome to the Caribbean!
The Mayans believed that the first journey was not meant to discover the world, but to discover oneself. They said that leaving home was like releasing a seed to the wind: not to lose it, but so it could find new soil where it might grow again.
Over time, if one returned again and again to the same place, it ceased to be just another destination. It became an extended home. A refuge where the soul found something it hadn’t even realized it was seeking.
An ancient legend tells that the gods gifted travelers with a special blessing: each time they found a place where their heart could bloom, they would feel an undeniable urge to share it. Because a home is not just a place: it is also the people we bring into it. And just like in a garden, the more diverse, the more alive, the more beautiful it becomes. Something of that ancient wisdom can be felt in our fishing journeys here. Each week is a blend of new adventures and familiar welcomes.
The wind, the currents, the light: everything changes. But the excitement of returning, of belonging for a few days to this corner of the world, remains intact.
Fishing —although we sometimes forget— is just the excuse. We search for fish, yes; we weave delicate deceptions to tempt elusive creatures in the water.
But truly, what we seek is something else: that brief, perfect moment when the world comes to a halt, when the sun spills over the flats, when a tarpon leaps, when a smile passes from one skiff to another without a single word needing to be said.
Each strike, each tightened line, each blurry photo snapped in the rush of the moment is just another way of sowing seeds into this garden.
A garden made of wind, saltwater, patience, stories shared over warm dinners, and silences stretching toward the horizon. And so, between deceits spun from feathers and fur, and encounters blossoming over the water, between fish that elude us and fish that grant us their battles, we continue growing this second home. One without walls, but with deep roots. One we all, sooner or later, long to return to.
Welcome back.
Fishing
Our first fishing day started with moderate east winds, limiting the number of spots offering good protection and making it trickier for our anglers to place accurate casts toward the many schools of permit —the species everyone had set their sights on. There were many shots taken, but the stoicism shown by those enigmatic fish was extreme.
The bonefish, however, had no such reservations: like silver bullets, they charged in from the most unlikely places to intercept the flies meant for permit. Bruce, one of the last of the “Lost Boys,” managed to hook a beautiful tarpon, but despite his acrobatic leaps and fierce fight, the fish ultimately freed itself from the hook.
Tuesday mirrored Monday almost exactly: moderate east winds, scattered clouds, and schools or lone permit showing complete indifference to our offerings. Conversations between guides and anglers inevitably circled back to the same question: Why aren’t they eating?, followed always by the hopeful reply: When they finally open their mouths, it’ll be a party!
The east winds persisted throughout Wednesday.
The clouds grew a bit more troublesome, casting unwanted shadows at just the wrong times —like when a perfect cast was laid out in front of a school and suddenly, everything on the surface turned a silvery gray, making it impossible to see what was happening beneath the water.
Bill managed to convince a beautiful permit to break its apparent fasting.
Kirk also had several opportunities but, despite excellent presentations and perfect set, the fish denied them the victory. Maybe the culprit was the famous “Canoeman Loop.” We’ll never know.
By Thursday afternoon, the winds began to drop. Unfortunately, the pesky clouds remained.
Encounters with schools and lone permits continued, but the stubborn fasting persisted. Once again, tarpon, snook, and bonefish came to the rescue, saving the day.
Friday dawned with soft winds and a sky that gradually cleared as the day went on. And yes… finally, the much-loved (and much-cursed) permit decided to play along.
Bob was quick to land a few. Motivated, he tried to replicate last year’s feat by chasing two Grand Slams in a single day, but the tarpon stubbornly refused to cooperate.
Kirk had several head-to-head battles with permit and emerged victorious in most of them. Maybe the “Canoeman Loop” works after all.
Kevin and Bruce made a bold decision for the day: shouting “Chingados Permit!” they set off to chase whatever swam in the bay.
They succeeded brilliantly, catching an astonishing variety —seven different species in numbers that bordered on the unbelievable. With spirits soaring, the final day of fishing blessed us with textbook conditions: nearly calm winds, clear skies, and highly active fish.
Bruce faced off against a colossal permit; after a fierce battle, the tippet loop gave out, robbing him of victory.
Bill landed a beautiful permit, and he and Bruce continued the day chasing everything that moved, racking up another day of extraordinary numbers —snook, bonefish, snapper, jacks, and more.
Kevin “Stevie” and Lorenzo did the same: chasing after whatever crossed their path. To their surprise, they found permits, barracuda, bonefish, snook, snapper, jacks, and even species we had to consult books to identify.
Bob capped off his week with a large permit. As a cherry on top, a new fishing spot was added to our ever-growing list: “Enchilada.”
If you come visit us soon, don’t forget to ask us about it —we’ll happily point it out on the map. Without a doubt, this was one of those weeks where both the number of species caught and the volume of catches place us in the top five in ESB’s history. It’s impossible not to be amazed by the sheer biodiversity of this thriving Espiritu Santo Bay.
Weather
East winds prevailed for most of the week, with a slight shift to the northeast toward the end. Wind speeds ranged from around 6 mph by week’s end to 22 mph at the start. Tides were particularly strong and pronounced, especially with notably low levels late in the fishing days.
Flies
For permit, classic crab patterns like ESB Yellow Eyes, Casa Blanca Crab, and Spawning Shrimp in natural tones (white, tan, olive, and gray) proved crucial.
Tarpon responded best to baitfish patterns like EP Baitfish in white, chartreuse, and purple.
Bonefish continued to favor small shrimp and crab imitations on size #6 and #8 hooks, such as Gotchas and Squimps.
Snook, barracuda, and jacks demanded larger, flashier, and faster-moving streamers, with Deceivers, Needlefish, and Tarpon Toads standing out.
We’ll see you next week with a brand-new report. Don’t hesitate to reach out to our friends at The Fly Shop® to hear firsthand what life is like in Espiritu Santo Bay, inside the Sian Ka’an Biosphere Reserve (which means “Where the sky begins” in the Mayan language).
Taak ulak k’iin and Ka xi’ik teech utsil
(See you later and good luck, in the Mayan language)
Martín Ferreyra Gonzalez and the entire ESB Family
800-669-3474 | 530-222-3555 | travel@theflyshop.com | ESB Lodge
