Belize River Lodge

After visiting anglers clear customs and collect their luggage — a piece of cake, typically — they'll be greeted by a lodge staffer who will drive them about five minutes to the boat dock on the Belize Olde River. From there, it's another five minutes up the river to the lodge, where guests will meet their hosts, the Miles-Heusner family, who have operated the lodge since the early 1980s. Guests can check into their rooms and then pay a visit the lodge's stunning veranda, where an iced cocktail awaits (a rum and coke is owner Mike Heusner's favorite). Guests can wander the stunning grounds or catch up with friends and family back home before appetizers are served on the veranda. Dinner's at 7 o'clock sharp — you don't want to miss it.

You'll likely hear one of the servers utter a very important question: "Would you care for some lime-aid?"

Yes. The answer is absolutely yes. 

The fabled Belize Olde River starts high in the Central American rainforest near the Belize border with Guatemala and flows for almost 200 miles before it empties in the Caribbean just a few miles from Belize River Lodge. And after a delicious breakfast at the lodge and a leisurely walk to the dock, you guide awaits. John "The Tarpon King" Moore is legendary around these parts — he's helped Belize River Lodge anglers boat thousands of tarpon over the years, and it's your lucky day — he's on your boat. 

With John at the tiller, your panga motors upriver, away from any reminder of civilization. In minutes, the river is wild and primal, and a few minutes later, you see your first school of migrating tarpon — a group of about 20 fish, each one about 30 pounds, porpoises 300 yards upstream. In the river, the tarpon are almost always on the move as they hunt for baitfish in the deep, green water. At John's urging, you're on the bow of the panga, and he's putting you and the boat in position to be successful. Then, the school breaches again, about 30 feet off to your left.

"Cast in front of them," John urges. "They are always moving." You do your best to flip the Tarpon Toad on your 40-pound bite tippet ahead of the cruising fish, and the cast isn't half bad. As John instructs you to "let it sink," you wait with baited breath. A big tarpon on the first day? It could happen.

"Strip," John says from the platform. You do as your guide instructs. On the third pull, a freight train nails your fly and the river erupts. A three-foot-long juvenile tarpon catches the morning sun on its first jump, and you know immediately why this fish has earned its famous moniker, "the silver king." 

But, the fly refused to grip those iron-strong jaws, and it flips out of the fish's mouth on the mighty leap from the river. Tarpon 1, you 0. 

But the day is young. 

Maybe that first day on the river was epic, and the tarpon cooperated. Then again, if your cast was a bit rusty or your strip-set was off, the hooking and the catching might not have matched up like you had hoped. Either way, it's time for a change of scenery. 

This time, John motors the boat downriver at a quick clip, until he slows the panga to a crawl to navigate a bend in the river where giant manatees are common. It doesn't take long for you to see why the boats on this river slow down — in a quarter-mile stretch of river, you see half a dozen beautiful manatees sunning themselves just under the surface of the emerald water of the river. John is perfectly happy to let you snap a few photos of the big "sea cows" as they slowly paddle around the river in search of submerged vegetation. It's a cool experience for anyone who's never seen these majestic mammals before. 

With the manatees in the rearview mirror, you're off to the flats. Today, John says, is a bonefish day, with a shot or two at permit very likely. And, after a short 20-minute ride to some nearshore cays, you see your first school of bones. And it's huge — maybe 100 strong. The fish, fresh off a bonefish "mud" where they stirred up the otherwise crystal-clear flats, are on the prowl, and a well-time 40-foot cast puts your Gotcha right in their path. One strip. Two strips. Boom. Check the Belize bonefish off your list. 

The success on the flats the day before has you yearning for more, and John suggests a bit of a boat ride for you third day. You'll cruise down the river after breakfast to the bay, and head northeast into the backcountry.

Here, bigger bones swim in tight schools of three or four fish and you'll likely have more shots at permit in the green, hip-deep waters of the Caribbean. And, with John on the poling platform, you'll have Belize's best tarpon guide with you — he's got an eye for rolling fish, and these are bigger tarpon that frequently top 100 pounds. You may cruise right in front of Belize River Lodge's sister operation, the Long Caye Outpost, while you're out on the flats. That's something to consider next time.

There's something very ... interesting about fishing the jungle waters of the Belize Olde River for tarpon. Maybe it's the growls and the violent roars of the howler monkeys as they swing through the canopy, or maybe it's the chance to glimpse a jaguar ghosting off into the banyan trees. Or perhaps it's just the raw, primal experience that comes with fishing water home to everything from 2,000-pound manatees to 15-foot crocodiles. It's wild. And that first day on the river just whetted your appetite.

On this last day at the lodge, John has something a bit different in mind. While you will still be able to chase the migrating schools of fish up and down the river, there are a few spots that only John knows about, and these hidden little grottos are where the monsters dwell. Big tarpon between 50 and 100 pounds skulk in the depths below downed trees and snags, where they lie in wait for hapless baitfish... and well-cast streamers.

When a five-foot-long jungle tarpon comes calling ... well, you'll never forget it.