The home flat

The sun begins to shine through the two foot gap I’ve left in our cabana’s curtains somewhere around 6 am. For the first time in months, sleeping in is an option. At least an option. Breakfast is at 7:00 and our guide, Daniel, will be ready by 7:30, but he’s gone out of his way to let us know he’s moving on our schedule — and so the opportunity to catch another hour or two of rest before hitting the flats is there, even if it’s one we’re decidedly unlikely to seize.

Plus the Turneffe Atoll’s bonefish have other ideas. Still flat on my back, I squint towards the increasingly confident flood of sunlight, trying to catch a glimpse of the palm trees outside in an effort to determine whether last night’s stiff wind has subsided. Light gleams sharply off the water that slaps against the seawall not more than 40 feet from the cabana’s porch, forcing my still bleary eyes to recoil.

Rods and cones do whatever rods and cones do and, with my eyes a bit more ready, I peer out again to spy the palm’s fronds. Now capable of some measure of focus, my gaze is once again caught by the glittering light, which my improved vision now realizes is the glint of the sun’s rays off the tails of a school of feeding bonefish. Before I realize it, I’ve propelled myself from under the covers and stand peering through the cabana’s glass doors at what must be twenty bonefish tailing not more than 60 feet from my threshold. As I scan the flat, I discover two other pods of tailing fish not far in the distance ...

Read the full story in Hatch Magazine.