SCOUTING LOS ROQUES
A few years previous; I had done the research, made the necessary arrangements and found a group of like minded travellers to head down to Los Roques. Best laid plans and a “all but essential travel” designation put pay to our trip and the idea was shelved. Fast forward through covid and various travel challenges and the “essential travel” advisory still stands. However, with the right insurance there is utterly no reason that fly fishing for tailing bones on pancake flats can be considered anything but essential.
Plans evolved and Jonathan, Lucio and I found ourselves in the Eurobuilding in Caracas excitedly waiting for a flight to Gran Roques island. A small and very warm prop plane propelled us half an hour till we could see the reef and flats on Los Roques. A few conservation formalities and baggage collections and we were following our bags on a simple hand cart over sand roads to our Posadas. In hindsight we should have gone to the beach with a cooler full of ice and bear and got our base tan. But oh no, dressed like we’d never seen the sun before and armed with bonefish rods we struck out for a flooding lagoon to hunt for bones and triggers. As soon as we arrived we saw a series of nice sized bones feeding very close to a large drift wood log. Jonathan was sent into battle and I had a flick to a group rushing up the tide. No hesitation and I was into my first LR bonefish. We then chased triggers and ghosts all afternoon.
Lucio used his contacts to secure us two excellent guides and after a delicious breakfast we booted up and headed down to the shore to join Jorge in his Panga. First off we headed out to the edge of the reef where laughing guls sat waiting for baitfish to be pushed onto a rocky point. The pushing was being done by Jacks chasing the bait up into the tide. Some large bonefish were also present and one particularly large one pulled a full cranked drag out before straightening the hook.
We then waded a few soft flats as the tide washed gently out of the mangroves looking for bones and as the flat gave way to the lagoon found a beautiful jack that Lucio skilfully landed but not after a very strong fight. Morning gave way to lunch and our first encounter with the affectionately named Mosquito Cay. An old stilted shack used previously by conch fisherman. Around the stilted shack we saw a great deal of turtle grass with little tiny silver flags waving in the sun. As the tide slid from the turtle grass the fish started to feed more confidently and we chased them along the edge of the flat trying not to spook them. They were discerning feeders and we discovered that they came best to a size 8 bonefish bitters with a green hue and flecked rubber legs. This fly would prove to be a highly prized pattern in the week as we made many visits to these beautiful pancake flats.
The variety is, as they say, the spice of life and nothing could be more true when you head far out to the outer islands at the edge of the reef. We went in search of triggers and parrots. What unfolded was one of the most fascinating opportunities to study a species I have ever enjoyed. Jonathan went in search of big triggers and parrots whilst I tried my luck with the smaller triggers that seemed to rush the rocky reef on either side of a deep inlet. It was great fun with seemingly eager feeders heading towards the fly like nothing I have seen before. A shabby cast or a heavy stumble would send them scurrying to their holes or deeper water but soon after they’d be back under the rod tip looking for yum yum shrimps.
After a long wade spooking tiny triggers I arrived at the influencers dream beach. A link of silver white sand that slowly vanishes under the advancing turquoise tide. This might seem like paradise but to Jonathan and I this was just a causeway to parrot town. I left my rod and took up a telephoto lens on the off chance I would get to see the parrot fish feeding. Off chance it was not, there were a dozen spots along the lee side of the island where parrot fish were feeding in and amongst algal patches. Like clockwork these beautiful fish in hues of red and green would waft gently into the feeding field, upturn grazing on what ever they could find, before wafting gently out to digest. I would have had many many shots had I brought my rod but instead almost filled a memory card. A truly unique experience. Jonathan lost one that took to the deep but the seed was sewn.
That evening we were late back and planing through the inky blue of the dying light we were grateful for the big solid build of the Panga and a 200hp outboard. It was not long before we were enjoying a cold beer on the veranda of the Posada and discussing the days adventures.
The diversity of this fishery is what was so interesting. There are beautiful bonefish flats around tiny mangrove islands, rocky beach breaks with triggers and big bones, turtle grass flats with tailing bones, coral heads with rolling tarpon, drawing channels with enormous permit and soft skinny sand flats with ones and twos of timid bones. The amount of times I felt we were back somewhere we had been before and then realised it was a whole new island or flat. Even when we did return to Mosquito Cay it was never the same way twice and the fish were either generous or sensible depending on the conditions as well as our delicacy.
My main focus was the bonefish. I have been extremely fortunate to have been to a lot of magical places in search of saltwater species but despite some of them being flats heaven stuffed with bonefish I have actually had precious little exposure to really engaging with numbers of bonefish. Whilst I still have a lot to figure out I certainly had the opportunity to observe and experiment with these beautiful fish. There were times where I’d land 5 for 5 on a big yum yum shrimp and other times when a remarkably big almost black backed bone seemingly picked up my mantis shrimp multiple times but never connected before casually cruising through a channel into a lagoon. Some fish stuck, some fish refused the fly and some spooked at the flash of the line but getting to know the Los Roques bonefish was for me the most rewarding part of the trip.
Gran Roques is a granite hill in a sea of tiny coral islands and lagoons. Mostly uninhabited the island is literal bare foot living. Posadas and houses line a handful of streets. Locals play basketball of an evening and are either out on boats (or fixing them) or running the posadas by day. Pace is slow, there are a handful of bars and the living is simple. There are signs of modernisation and some posadas are very modern amongst some old world charm. There are no vehicles to speak of and the drinks and supplies are all transported via hand carts. The lodging is very comfortable and whilst there are different levels of comfort a good light meal, a handful of beers and a cranked up air conditioning system will have you well rested and ready for the next day’s adventure. The food is simple but delicious. A lot of local fish and lobster in season. It feels like the island is moving forward at a pace with a modern new airport building and more infrastructure for water sports. The fishing will remain wonderful with a limited number of guides and boats but it could begin to feel busy if tourism keeps advancing.
My advice, get to Los Roques as soon as possible. Go all in or on a budget but make sure you experience this wonderful fishery.
