It's Wednesday, and if the wind is blowing hard, we must be in Cuba. If anything the "breeze" seems to be intensifying (and has switched to the east), but the skies are clear and the sun is shining, so whadda ya want? For the first part of the day, we head west and fool around with some herds of Bonefish; Larry and Scott and their guide "Bemba" join us. It's pretty much non-stop action for a couple of hours. There is a big Barracuda in the vicinity that chews three Bones from the end of my line (and of course the fly goes with them), so Pedrito does something that I haven't seen a guide (or anyone) do before; he kills a Bonefish, puts a finger in it's gills to produce a bunch of blood, and fires the fish underhand about sixty feet to the vicinity of the 'Cuda! He then makes a full belly gesture; obviously the plan is to satiate the damn predator so he'll leave our prey alone :-) Amazing how a fish out of a school that is clearly spooked, and with a big Barracuda real close, will take the time to stop for a snack, and plenty do! It is my impression, admittedly based on scanty evidence, that if one wanted to focus on Bonefish only here in the Gardens of the Queen, that you could rack up some seriously large numbers. On the other hand, why would you want to limit yourself to Bones when there are Tarpon in the neighborhood? Speaking of Tarpon, at about 10:30 a.m. or so we head further west to Boca Grande, slamming throught the big swells in the stretch of open water that has to be crossed to get there. One thing about the fishin' deal down here, you had better be prepared for loooong stretches of pounding boat rides to and from the good spots. And if the guides are putting on their rain gear on a hot sunny morning, you had better be doing the same unless you want a nice saltwater soaking. There are three boats that make the haul over to Tarponville, and Pedrito stakes out a choice spot where we essentially wait for the fish to come to us, a tried and true fishing strategy :-) Over the next several hours, there is indeed some action. I end up hooking four Tarpon, and I land two. The first one is a single in the thirty or so pound category. Then a school of four or five fish comes at us, and the biggest of the group grabs my fly on the first cast. This thing launches out of the water looking to me to be about the size of a freakin' coffin (I know, morbid imagery, but that's what came to mind), only to come undone shortly thereafter. Pedrito estimates this fish at ninety pounds. I manage to get my next cast in front of his buddies, and one of them eats it, and is well hooked! The thirty or so pounder is eventually landed and photographed. An hour or so later, I hook a sixty pounder, and he's with me for a few jumps before he too comes undone. Mike G. later tells me that this flat is known as a serious Tarpon hotspot; the fish can come right from the deep water onto this flat to feed, and when the wind is down, and conditions are right, it is apparently a sight to behold. Mid-afternoon, we pound our way back east, stopping for an hour or so to molest a bunch more bonefish... Note: Pedrito has truly exceptional spotting skills on Bonefish in deeper water; mind-blowing at times. Numbers? Kinda lose count, but must have hooked around twenty or so Bones for the day. A storm system comes in from the Northwest, and we get a bit of rain shortly after arriving back at The Tortuga. A couple of guys try some night fishing this evening. Interesting factoid: at least seven of the anglers in our group hail from Saskatchewan. My theory is that the wide open flats have particular subliminal appeal to Prairie folks...