Story From The Road: Good Guide / Bad Guide

January 2025

In our latest installment of Stories from the Road, a series where we chronicle standout successes, interesting encounters, admit to failures, or sometimes just recount the flat out bizarre… we really stretch the full spectrum here. In fact, it’s taken almost a year to mentally find a place where I could write about it in a level way. Yes, this is an accurate retelling… At the very least read this as a warning for finding guides, I include some lessons learned at the end.

A marathon half month of unexpected travel inserted jetsetting to Hawaii’s largest bonefish flats before a long planned chase after Gulf dwelling juvenile tarpon on Florida’s west coast. To make the most of these offerings we (obviously) enlisted help from local guides. But to call the combined trip a success is generous, a mixed bag is more accurate. Though the universe has a way of evening things out, the highs only exist to counterpoint the lows. 

In Oahu we only scraped together only one joint day for bonefishing as the true reason for the trip rested in a stuffy conference room where my wife weathered the irony of traveling to Hawaii to sit in meetings. For me, with more available time I had a few extra shots. Plus, I also enlisted a local to put me onto some peacock bass in a central island lake. Who knew! This guide wasn't a fly fisherman, but happily showed me around the lake on one of the most unique and chill days I’ve ever had on the water. 

Meanwhile in western Florida, we enlisted a local captain for two days, hoping to finally land a sizable tarpon. After getting schooled on the last tarponquest (DIY in the BVI) we needed vengeance. But by the end we left craving silence, and a polygraph test.

Try to find your Zen as we oscillate between the yin and yang in this story from the road:

Good Guide / Bad Guide

Meeting the Good Guide 1: From the moment we set out, we were refining leaders, discussing current conditions and cautioned about realistic expectations considering our guides' experiences from the past week. Nonetheless, an optimistic air was introduced to relax the jitters that come before your inevitable first blown shot on a bonefish. 

Meeting the Bad Guide: A pleasant introduction, but I’m not an affable person before the sun rises. We jetted out of the mangrove maze to find deeper water. Informed that the tide was lower than expected we stalled in deeper water until able to follow juvenile tarpon (amongst other things) up narrower channels rising as the tide came in. I asked myself, if the tide is so low why did we need to get out so early? To add insult to injury, the guide's son had just recently taken the memory chip out of the boat’s GPS and therefore left us unable to find the needed waypoints to navigate the skinny water. As we killed time, the guide handed me a spinning rod, before ever uncovering the fly rods. I had a slight panic attack that fly rods weren't even on board, and even silently looked at his (well rated) website again to assure myself I was in the right place. A bizarre start.

Good Guide 1: Soon I blew the first shot, not seeing the bonefish clearly eat but was assured that we were trending positive. I asked for feedback on the encounter and the picture grew more clear. We quietly stalked together, identifying fish, even those out of range. The picture of bonefish refreshed in my mind, underwater Heineken bottles as described by our guide, almost electric green, obvious and still so difficult to spot at times. 

Bad Guide: I eventually get to hold a fly rod but the progress stalled out again. My fly at the ready, I leaned on information I gathered independently, standing on the casting deck, waiting. Despite my prying for details on tactics and what to look for, the guide preferred to show me the fancy toys on his boat, side-viewing sonar, and the design of the storage compartments. He helped the boat maker design this model... “Uh huh”, I returned tersely, I’m not at a boat show. We eventually gained clearance to crawl into a mangrove channel, identifying the unique birds flying by and sneaking further into the mangrove creek. Casting into tannic water we managed some whacky smaller nongame fish, and spotted one redfish spooked by the trolling motor.

Good Guide 1: We successfully stuck the first bonefish of the day, the guide and I coordinated the approach and I could intuit when the call for a “long strip” was issued. The energy remained calm and collected, yet, despite the highs of this success he was not done with his work. We continued on… confidence building.

Bad Guide: Not much to see, but hey a tough day can strike at any time. Patience was ample, and we hopped around motoring between oyster bars, and localized depressions amongst the wide flats, where fish congregate. I landed a really cool, decently sized Mangrove Snapper but wasn’t offered either the onboard net, or the captain's pliers to remove my swallowed fly. Glad I brought my own. I was disappointed to not get a photo.

We found several of his favorite spots on memory, but each fell short, even the abundant juvenile speckled trout found no interest in our flies. To occupy the dead time, our guide was content to rattle off far reaching stories, each more far fetched than the last. Not to mention he grabbed a rod of his own, and kicked back like one of the pals. As we soon learned, he knew all the big local names in angling, had connections with famous hockey stars, could have played in the NHL, and chattered away through our endless, mindless, not to mention, fruitless casting. Brain rot was just announced as the Oxford Dictionary word of 2024, a tasteful choice. 

Good Guide 1: We explored around the flats on foot learning more ins-and-outs until the rhythm of spotting and casting at fish fell below that secret threshold only our guide picked up on. We motored to find new fish and while quietly poling around, with precise instructions stuck an immediate fish that satisfied the journey over to new water. "40’, 7 o’clock... strip… strip… long strip". One cast was all that was needed before my line zipped out of my reel, a first step in taming another flat’s ghost. After that excitement, the tides peaked into a static high tide leaving the bonefish acutely spooky and spread out. As the encounters soon dried up, we all enjoyed the guide’s lunch spread and ample cooler offerings. We had a half dozen between us, plus more eats that didn’t quite convert. The day proved better than even the guide expected, and obviously exceeded our expectations as salty green(ish)horns. 

Bad Guide: By mid afternoon the humidity has taken its toll. And though we were told to expect this convection-effect, it still hit hard. The day was a bust, but we were assured to more options ahead in day two. Completely bone dry we finally reached for the cooler, and found only mini bottles of lukewarm water, not even ice on board. Parched, we drove back to the hotel in silence, embracing the controlled climate, and the break from his constant chatter... Chatter that felt too frequently astounding to be true. But you can’t break in the middle of the mission, especially one incomplete.

Stuck with a bad guide? See the fish clearly for yourself

Good Guide 2: To chase peacock bass on Oahu, you really need a boat. I was warned that limited shoreline access would prevent most DIY attempts for such a short timeframe. I fortunately found a captain who ran trips, mostly for spin anglers, but he was willing to take me along. We coordinated briefly before travel on colors for flies and I came overly prepared. Within minutes of launch, we found fish busting on shad, leading to fishing that couldn’t be much better. Find the boiling water and cast through the madness with a light colored fly near the surface. Strip as quick as you can. No stress, or concern over finding fish, we were on our way to double digits for the day. From then on, we hit the banks casting as tight to structure as possible. We either pulled out fish or snagged up on trees or submerged roots. But I was assured, the tighter to cover the better. As a result, I snagged up plenty, but the guide saw that as a good sign. Though frustrating for me, we simply took the required time in each instance to unhook the fly. No annoyances, no sweat. 

Bad Guide Day 2: We started the next day half awake enroute to our launch point learning our guide was a professional marksman so tactically gifted he could hit a target from “insert random distance” to a spread of “insert random increment”. It was too early to listen closely. I did make out that he was nationally ranked with both side arm and blah blah, something else. All that was missing was the blindfold. But on the bright side, my eyes rolled so hard I was no longer the half awake zombie I usually am so early. After a full night to recovery, I found my desire for tarpon surprisingly beaten down by my conflicting need for some goddamn peace and quiet.

At the sun's crest we found some surface rollers to get the blood pumping again, but I was encouraged to break off my fishing to get a live look at the tarpon moving around on the boat's live sonar. I'm not out here to watch TV, I told myself. Fortunately, finally, after navigating to a narrow channel I connected with the desired quarry. I managed a strong strip set startling the tarpon into a boat side jump that nearly reached my eye level. And following instructions, I was told to horse the fish harder, even then it wasn’t hard enough. He wanted to land that fish, bad. The best I can figure is that this was some insurance for his "hard earned" mega-tip. He urged me to bend the rod further and further, folding over boatside, until it finally snapped. I wasn’t surprised at all, but hey, it wasn’t my rod, and it wasn't really my fault. I know how to fight a fish. Shortly there after we fortunately had the fish fully wrangled and photographed. The guide took this moment to mention that I should send him the photo so he could edit out the surroundings and replace the background with a wild-mangrove landscape. Though no words were uttered from my mouth, this sequence sealed the deal on the utter deception this guy ran. I fell for it. He’d rather look the part than execute. At least he knew the waters, after all we found the tarpon we were after. Still... there were screws loose elsewhere. Next, he suggest I not divulge any details of this secret fly we used with such conviction he never noticed he let go of his net, losing it overboard. Yet somehow, he let me keep the fly. Underneath it all, the fly looked to me like a variant of the old classic Black Death, first tied in the 1960s. I see nothing special about it.

Though tarpon continued to roll, despite my wishes to continue in the recently productive water, we moved out to water similar to the oyster bars of day one. Again we were encouraged to pick up spin rods, today for speckled trout. (Truly, this was the strangest thing about the whole encounter, the website is marketed as fly specific trips). I had no interest, and though a fly change was needed, it was not offered. So I cast and wrangled some juvenile specks before a new, more appropriate fly was finally offered. He just silently laid it on the bench next to me. Luckily, I again brought my own pliers and nippers needed to make the change. 

Good Guide Day 2: Full of interesting information, we discussed the natural surroundings while I went about my fishing from the front of the bass boat. We found some relatively larger fish, and was offered photos of my catches along with a collection of flies he’d accrued over the years. A generous offering that I graciously accepted. Despite all the flies I brought. You should have seen all the flies I brought, and only one necessary for the day: the clouser minnow of course. I shook his hand back at the boat ramp, and he refused my offers to help him prepare and trailer his boat. "No need", he affably insisted.

Bad Guide Day 2: Again during the waning hours of the trip, he was fishing alongside us and by now his son had gained superpowers, earned Ivy League accolades, and could bench press 300 pounds. (I have no way of knowing if he actually said that, but I wasn’t listening anyway). Back at the cars, I offered a 20% tip for his services and he returned an extended blank stare, undoubtedly expecting more. But by this point, I welcomed his silence, not tempted to offer anymore or lose leverage as the situation became increasingly awkward. As we continued on fishing in the following days, on our own, we did our best to cleanse the foul taste from that guide, but the recovery proved to need more time. Even the recommendations for restaurants fell on deaf ears, if he said go right, we we're going left.

“In closing, these stories have not been embellished, because - they need no embellishment.” - George Costanza

Bad guides are out there hiding amongst us, they can say all the right things in preparation, build the air of authority, but the truth eventually comes out. Spend a day fishing with someone and you really get the chance to figure them out. Unfortunately, I'm getting more and more experience with guides, and many are mediocre. Sometimes choices are just too limited, and it's proved unreliable to find guides without a trusted referral. At least they help the good guides stand out that much more. 

I later learned a new acronym: FIGJAM. “Fuck I'm good, just ask me”. I see where the term comes from. And if you are thinking of southwestern Florida for some fishing, email me, I'll tell you who to avoid.

Hard Lessons Learned for Finding and Managing Your Guide

• Get a sense of the season, when is it good, when is it slow?
  • be cautious of false promises
  • plan in advance to time the trip with better odds
  • do your own research on the fishery
• Get a sense of the gear they use, including rod models, reels, flies and leaders
  • familiarize yourself with relevant knots, patterns and tactics
• Get a sense of the guides approach, personality, expectations
• Don't be afraid to bring your own stuff, guides forget things too
• Ask every question you think of like: how do you want me to strip the fly?
  • run me through a situation where the fish eats so I know what to expect before I miss a shot and you tell me all that info after its too late
    • you might only get one shot
• Remind them what you want to do, it's your trip after all
• Understand casting expectations, distances, styles, types of flies
• Hunt out guides that are articulate and good teachers
  • Remember that guiding is more about service than angling
  • They have to be able to explain it to you… not do it themselves
• Don't lose your fishing instincts because some guides aren't good teachers