Bryan and Chris in the Secret Lagoon
The mile long lagoon at the back of Steppingstones has given up a couple more of its secrets as a result of a week long series of early morning and dusk sessions.
Let’s start however with the tarpon fishing which is not really a secret at all. The local guides know well that the lagoon holds a good head of small to medium size tarpon, and the lagoon is used as a backup if Monkey River is not producing.
Bryan is a frequent visitor and friend, and he and I spent a few sessions in the lagoon “putting away the boat.”
We tried both first and last light and interestingly found little difference. The tarpon can be seen porpoise-ing at pretty well any time of day. The very small Storm Swim shads (the ones with a single hook only) are best. Lure running depth seems to be crucial. Too deep and the tarpon don’t seem to hit. Top water lures also work. Small poppers and a Luckycraft Sammy lure tried by Bryan worked well.
The trick is to sneak up to within casting range if a porpoise-ing fish can be spotted. However, by noting where fish have been active on previous days, it is possible to hook fish which have not shown themselves Doing this, Bryan managed a personal best fish of 10 ¾ lbs on a very light outfit. The fish fought furiously as tarpon always do, jumping clear of the water five times. Bryan did extremely well to subdue this fish which in addition to trying to fly, also went right under the boat several times and made determined efforts to reach the mangrove edges.
Apart from that we both had plenty of hits and jumped a number of fish, mostly in the 6-8lb class. It was interesting to note that tarpon would roll in the wake of the boat on occasion, so keeping an eye on proceedings behind us, as well as in front was important.
I might digress at this point with a story from a visit Sue and I made to the Zapata Peninsular in Cuba a few years back. Fishing a tributary of the Rio Negro, we came upon a group of porpoise-ing tarpon. Whereupon our guide (himself a skilled angler) opened up his throttle and to our amazement roared straight through the shoal, and ran the boat about ½ mile upstream before abruptly shutting off and shouting for us to immediately cast behind the boat. Rather stunned, we did and a double hook-up resulted. Later he told us this was an established tactic for narrow water tarpon fishing. I subsequently checked this out with several other Cuban guides and they all agreed this was so. The other day, Sue and I tried this in a narrow section of our lagoon. Well, all I can say is our tarpon clearly were taught different behavior from their Cuban cousins… Nada, as the Cubans would say. Still I do wonder if we might be herding tarpon in front of the boat when what we THINK we are doing is following them!
Anyway, back to the lagoon. Everyone knows that hooking and landing tarpon is hard, hence the American habit of counting “jumps”. I would guess we are landing two or three out of ten which is about average. I had a solid hookset on a popper, only to have the hook pull out (of the lure). I have subsequently drilled the popper and inserted a long shank hook right through, so this will not happen again. That’s the problem with using poppers designed for large and small mouth bass, so beware, those poppers are not designed for the pressure a double figure tarpon can exert.
Losing fish in a heavily overgrown environment is a fact of life. I lost another good fish in a heap of sunken logs, although we both had a feeling this might not have been a tarpon.
Well during the week we jumped quite a few fish, lost several, cracked off a couple on the strike, and had plenty of follows, near misses and on two memorable occasions two double hookups in the same place! We did have to follow the fish around quite a bit though (hence my thought above that we might have been herding them). We did wonder if the noise of my outboard even at tickover was spooking them. I tried poling the boat, but we could discern no great difference in catch or hit rates.
So what else happened? Well Bryan managed two tuba which look a bit like overweight perch (see pic). They were small but fight like hell. Bryan extracted one from heavy cover right in the sticks in about a foot of water on his Sammy lure. The fish managed to snag itself on a log but with some acrobatics we managed to free it. I have seen these probably two pounds or so near our mooring, but I suspect they grow bigger. He also caught the first ever Cubera snapper (aka Pargo) I know of from the lagoon. I have long thought these would be present in the lagoon, having lost a couple of heavy fish that were definitely not tarpon but slugged away and in both cases managed to get into the mangrove despite my putting heavy pressure on them. The cubera Bryan had was around 3lb but again I am sure they grow a lot bigger in this unpressured environment.
The lagoon teems with fry virtually year round and is a wonderful nursery for all species of fish. I have caught tarpon fry in my cast net from time to time, and on one memorable occasion had literally thousands of two inch long tarpon thrown up on the beach by a marauding shoal of blue runners. I must have rescued hundreds and put them back in the water, but our cats, dogs, chickens and of course wild birds ate them by the bucket load. It’s nature I suppose.
Bryan went on to land three small jacks, a small mangrove snapper and a baby barracuda. All in all a fun time. Not high pressure, just a few leisurely hours in beautiful surroundings where even if the fish are off duty, the bird watching is wonderful.
Ospreys (nesting now), three species of heron, cormorant (only a couple though!) anhinga, two species of wood peckers, three species of kingfisher, various hawks, odsprey, vultures, egrets, tanager, ibis (loads right now) pelicans, kiskadees, parrots, warblers and LBJs (little brown jobs-ie unidentified by me)
And if that is not enough, we have a resident crocodile which locals have estimated at 14 feet. Having nearly run this beast down in my boat would say 12ft but who’s arguing? Bryan did see a baby croc about a foot long but missed a sight of the big one.
OK here’s the rub. Bryan is writing his own version of this little episode, which Sue insists will be posted unedited, so a comparison will be informative!!

Two days away from Steppingstones.
Hi this is Chris with a report on our two days at sea. We had our friend Bryan Denton staying with us and we decided to organize a two day mini trip out at Seal Caye and surrounding areas in the middle of his fishing week.
We left bright and early from Steppingstones with top guide Ian Cuevas running his boat Opportunity. Bryan is a kayak fanatic so we persuaded Ian to allow us to carry one of our fishing kayaks on board. The last few weeks have been flat calm, and the day dawned mirror calm, so forty minutes later we were picking our way very carefully through the coral heads that surround the entry channel to this small but pretty little caye.
Bryan was unable to overcome the temptations of the shallow flats and banks of the caye, so after a brief stop to unload overnight bags, we left Bryan paddling purposefully towards the nearest coral drop off, along the edge of the flats.
For Sue and I, our task was to get lunch. This involves getting a barracuda, tough job, but someone has to do it. Naturally as soon as we put our lures out every barracuda in the Caribbean for miles around disappeared. However by experimenting with diving depths, trolling speeds, yes and lures too, we eventually fooled a six pound barracuda on a deep diving Yo Zuri Crystal Minnow. Problem solved. A nice Spanish mackerel followed shortly after, but that was it. A small squadron of dolphins escorted us back to Seal Caye.
So to an excellent lunch of fried barracuda with the inevitable rice and beans, Belizean –style. Over lunch Bryan recounted the results of his mornings prowling around the flats. Apart from a couple of small cubera snappers, two small groupers and a jack, pretty quiet. His morning was however dominated by something that hit his lure on one of the flats, ran right across the flat with line pouring off Brian’s reel into the drop off, whereupon the line parted and the fish was last seen heading in the general direction of Jamaica. After due commiserations, we settled down to discuss the afternoon’s tactics.
It was clear from the morning’s slow start that we would need to try something different so we decided to troll along the edge of the drop off using a Mann’s Magnum Super Stretch 30 on a 80lb marlin rod brought along specially for the purpose, and a Yo Zuri deep magnum L Jack Minnow also on a heavy outfit. Sue was to continue with her favourite shallow Crystal Minnow just in case we ran into something feeding on top.
This all sounded right so off we went, and it was not long before the big Super Stretch got its first hit. This lure is about the deepest diving lure around and we were confident that a mega fish was responsible. However, it only took seconds to realize this was only a small barracuda. Moments later Bryan’s rod went and the fish took off on a long run, then stopped abruptly. On getting it to the boat, all was revealed. It was a small kingfish with its tail and back end neatly sheared off.
Then followed a succession of small kingfish, barracuda, bonita and Spanish mackerel all released, and although this kept us all occupied it was not what we had come for. The afternoon was wearing on.
Meanwhile, Ian had been watching out for frigate birds circling, a sure sign of baitfish on the surface, with the promise of tuna below. Now Ian was suddenly fixed on a point on the horizon and setting off in pursuit of some wheeling frigates.
Little did we know that a few minutes later we were to witness a truly incredible sight. A school of baitfish was under attack from a shoal of yellow fin tuna from below, and a blizzard of frigates from above. Mayhem did not cover it. The tuna were 20 to 30lbs, too numerous to count, and were jumping feet out of the water in their attempts to catch the baitfish. Sheets of baitfish were flying out of the ater in all directions. At one point we actually saw a 30lb tuna hit a frigate bird in mid air as it came in to scoop up a fish.
Ian gunned the boat and set us running alongside the school which was moving at an estimated 15 knots. The game is to cut the lures into the path of the oncoming school. We hung on to our rods in anticipation of the coming strikes but sadly it was not to be. I had one hit as we passed through, then nothing. We switched lures and depths but to no avail. The school was moving at high speed which made getting the lures in the right place very difficult. Suddenly the inevitable happened. The school went down, leaving frigates circling in frustration. We motored around for a while but they did not return. So it was back to base, vowing to return tomorrow.
So it was a traditional chicken rice and beans for dinner, a few beers then bed, with agreement to be up at dawn for a morning session before breakfast. Bryan again opted for the kayak, while Sue and I decided to have a troll along the inside edge of the reef. Ian felt that if the fish were not outside perhaps they were inside the reef.
The day began with a Spanish mackerel, small king fish and a couple of reasonable barracuda, all taken with shallow running lures on light rods. I changed back to my deep Yo Zuri Crystal Minnow and was immediately rewarded by a hit. The fish came slowly to the boat without showing itself. I suspected a foul hooked barracuda. As the fish neared the boat we suddenly saw it was a nice kingfish. However it suddenly saw us too, and exploded into a series of long runs, dives and lunges. Eventually Ian managed to gaff it and on weighing it was 20lb . The best fight I have had on light tackle in a long while. It was now time to go back for breakfast.
Meanwhile Bryan had had a number of small fish off the flats but nothing spectacular. It was agreed that some action was desperately needed for the next part of our trip. So Ian suggested a run to the nearby Nicholas and Frank Cayes where bonefish are a banker. On arriving, we were not surprised to find that the stone cold certainty bonefish were not there! As we waited a pair of permit swam past. Bryan and I both hastily threw baited jigs at them but they never even paused in their leisurely swim past.
We went around the caye with eagle eyed Ian scanning the horizon for bones (how do they do it, these guides?) Apart from about seven eagle rays wafting across the flats, nothing. Amazing.
However Ian eventually spotted a patch of cloudy water and bingo! There were the bonefish in around fifteen feet of water. Not normal at all. So we cast blind into the cloudy water and within seconds Bryan was away with a bonefish boring away into the murky water. Sue and I shared a rod and for an hour or so we caught mainly bonefish but with a few grunts, and a small jack thrown in.
Time for lunch and a promised return to yesterday’s tuna killing ground. This time we trolled around with Sea Witches (mylar skirt with double ganged single hooks baited with a big flapper of bonita). This attracted a regular stream of kingfish and barracuda and Spanish mackerel to the boat. During all this time Sue had been very quiet and I was just thinking that any minute now her luck could be expected to change.
The thought was barely in my mind when her check screamed and she was into a good fish which was running hard and fast. The line went right down to the last few yards and then….suddenly nothing. The line had parted. No obvious explanation, just one of those things.
As the afternoon wore on we all turned our eyes expectantly towards the southern horizon where last evenings tuna had materialized. This time it was not to be. Plenty of baitfish around on the surface, also a solitary loggerhead turtle made its way past us. Even the frigate birds made occasional passes overhead just monitoring the situation. But no tuna.
By 4pm it was time to return to Seal Caye to collect the kayak and start the run home. One hour later we were back at our dock after a really smooth ride back.
Was this our best ever trip? No, not by a long chalk. But we had our moments, saw some amazing things, but all too little of the rod bending action the Great Barrier Reef of Belize has to offer.
There will be another time…..

Hi everybody. Sorry for the long silence, but regular readers will know that we have been very busy doing the annual renovations, painting, decorating, besides looking for lost ducks, building our iguana habitat (I’ll talk about that at a later date) and all the other things we have to do.
Our wet season, nominally May to November, is also the low season for holidays, including anglers. Quite why this should be so is a mystery to us. Ah but the rain… well yes it does rain here, spectacularly. Yes 14 feet a year. BUT. Most of it falls at night while we are tucked up in bed.
And while we are talking about rain, consider the upside. Yes, rain does have a significant upside for anglers. Monkey River floods, every baitfish for miles around comes to feed in the coloured water and guess what? So do the tarpon and snook. Small wonder then that the wet season is the prime time for both these species.
Anyway the self named “ Four Old Fogies”, Roger, Ted, Alan and Adrian from England defied convention and came out to stay with us for a week, in October, announcing on arrival that none of them had ever caught a bonefish or permit before and wanted to remedy that situation.
My heart sank. Bonefish, OK we have loads of bones grazing around our offshore cayes and reasonably competent fly fishermen can (and do) catch them till they never want to see another bonefish. I understand however that that feeling wears off very rapidly when one is back behind a desk on a cold wet day in London, Chicago, Quebec etc
But as everyone knows, permit are elusive, difficult and above all fickle. Permit can become an obsession. To locate them down here is a near certainty, to get within casting range a few times in a day is probable, to hook a fish is an achievement. To land it, well, permit take grave exception to being hooked and are likely to take you on an extended tour of the surrounding cayes before coming to the boat
That said, Southern Belize has one of the world’s highest populations of permit running well into double figures, so the prospects are very good especially when you are in the boat with one of our guides who know where the permit are likely to be on a given day. Even so, permit are not a fish to cut your warm salt water fly fishing teeth on. So this was a challenge for the Four Old Fogies.
So to the good news. The bones duly cooperated and the guys all had a great time chasing bonefish around. One boat managed over thirty bones in one day, and reckoned they could have had many more.
And the bad news? Well both boats found permit, but getting a fly in the right place at the right time proved very hard.
So one boat went off trolling and came back with the usual haul of barracuda, kingfish, snappers etc. The other boat went looking for tarpon and duly landed a number into double figures including one from our “secret lagoon”. It was that boat which hooked a tarpon on a lure in Deep River and got towed 2 miles up the river before the line parted. The lure? Yo Zuri Crystal Minnow of course. No I don’t have shares in Yo Zuri (but wish I did)
So the week wore on with bonefish, more bonefish, tarpon and more tarpon until the last cast of the last day up Monkey River saw one of the guys hook into a log. The log then started swimming upstream. Some minutes later a huge snook came to the boat and was weighed in at 21lbs 12oz. This is the best ever caught by one of our guests, and the lure? Well what do you think? Correct. Yo Zuri Crystal Minnow again.
So the week ended on a high note. Bone fish ambitions satisfied, but despite some close calls the permit won the day and will await a future occasion.
Coming soon: Chris and Brian in the secret lagoon.