In the shade of coconut palms, I’m writing this extraordinary account of my last few days of fly fishing in Guadeloupe.
Today, conditions are much the same as they’ve been for the past month now : particularly challenging. A steady wind is blowing, leaving only a few opportunities for those who can seize them.
No one could have predicted what would happen next …
After a busy guiding season where we landed some great catches with my anglers (including, among others, a grand slam of tarpon, snook, and bonefish by one of them). Or a fishing trip with a fisherman from Brittany who was lucky to catch some beautiful fish (tarpons, snapper, jack crevalle, bonefishes, and even a small permit)…
I only have a week to enjoy myself, and according to the forecast, I’ll really only have a window of 2–3 full days to put my experience and knowledge of this destination into practice. In such a short timeframe, there’s not much room for improvisation ! As usual in Guadeloupe, you have to know how to adapt day by day… Choosing the right strategy in real time and not overlooking any details—these are some of the keys to success ?!
I’ll skip the details about the specific choice of fishing tackles, without mentioning the choice of spots or the species to target …
Having helped catch all the species we’re interested in here over the past two months, I’m now focusing my efforts on the legendary “permit”…
By the way : 2025 was an emotionally rich year for me, thanks in part to the catch of a permit estimated at around 15 kilos (33 lbs), a potential French record on fly and on foot (the subject of another article on this blog). So I remember last year, jokingly telling my father : “I feel like I’m capable of pulling off a real coastal grand slam with three decent-sized fish !?”—namely, catching a nice bonefish, a beautiful tarpon, and the famous Holy Grail of fly fishing, the fabulous permit…
Day 1:
Here I am on the flat, scanning the sea for the slightest sign that might reveal the presence of the “black tail devil”. After 45 minutes of nothing, I’m surprised by three beautiful specimens. One weighing 4–5 kilos (9-11 lbs), one 5–6 kilos (13lbs), and another 7–8 kilos (15-18lbs).
(These fish were swimming very quickly toward me and appeared about ten meters away.) Emerging from a deep area where the sun’s reflection on the surface was blinding, I had only a split second to strike.
Although I’m now well-practiced in my casting technique, the situation remains “tricky,” and I drop my fly right in the middle of the three. This ends up scaring the first one, which in turn scares the other two. They then swim right past my feet.
At that moment, all of us “permit fishermen” share that image where we can clearly see their big eyes staring back at us, intuitively saying: “You won’t catch me…!”
I refocus. I move forward about a hundred meters and spot three bonefish. I catch the one closest to me, a nice bonefish about sixty centimeters (23,6 inches) long, which puts up a good fight !
Over the next half-hour, I see and have a chance on a solitary 6-7-kilos (13-15 lbs) permit which is “tailing.” Then a second one, much smaller. Neither of them seems interested in my fly, or in my presentation ?!
The weather suddenly changes, making it nearly impossible to track the permit. So I decide to stop for now. When I return to check the same spot, i’ll also catch another bonefish in the evening, a bit smaller than the one from this morning.
This day has been full of informations, and I now have a good idea of which flat to look for “my” permit on tomorrow.
Day 2:
After 10 minutes of fishing, I catch a 58-cm (22,8 inches) bonefish. A quick photo for the memories, a quick release, and off I go again.
Twenty minutes later, a second one, a little smaller. Same thing…
I put out my fly line, get ready again, and then, coming out of nowhere, a permit that I estimate to be around 6 kg (13 pounds) is swimming quickly toward me. I have just 1 or 2 seconds to present my fly to it. I’m “limited” with my back against a narrow space right next to me, making the cast rather difficult. I try, casting over the obstacles, gritting my teeth to get it through, and putting it down 1 meter (3 ft) in front of him, no more than 6 to 7 meters (20ft) away from me. He charges at the fly, his nose just 10 cm (4 inches) away, but at first he refuses it. Then he turns around… I cast again, placing the fly in the same spot, he returns as if he’d decided that, after all, a “ready-made” meal wouldn’t be so bad ?! And this time, he grabs my fly brutally, I’d even say “ferociously”!
I can still see him right in front of me, sucking in my fly ! At that moment, I’m the one who says to myself : “I’ve got you”!!!
He takes off like a rocket !!! And I realize then that my line is wrapped around my legs. I try to react by spinning around … My move is a success, and the line regains its “freedom.” That first “run” is anthological …
I reel him in as hard as I can and make it clear right away that I’m not going to let him do whatever he wants. No way am I letting him get too far out ! This area is full of “coral heads”! He makes a second big run and takes about fifteen meters (50 ft) of backing off me. So now he’s swimming about forty meters (130 ft) out. I keep reeling him in and keep the rod high with every new run. The next 10 minutes are intense, and we’re locked in a real arm-wrestling match !
I start thinking about where I’ll be able to finish the fight. I slowly (but surely !) guide him to that strategic spot that’ll let me end the fight cleanly without too many obstacles. I still have to avoid a whole bunch of coral heads.
The fight eases up a bit, but the moment he spots me for the first time, he runs off again.
I stay focused. I know all too well how easily a mistake can happen, especially at the very end !
I swing the rod backward and grab the leader for the second time. I pull on it, using a wave to my advantage, and finally grab it by the tail …
“YES! WOW, AMAZING ! ”
When you’re alone and want to capture the moment with a photo, the action doesn’t stop there.
Despite the euphoria and the rising adrenaline, I have to make sure this dream fish stays in perfect health. So I keep it in the water while I take my camera out of my backpack.
I take a few “selfie” shots, measure this permit, which comes in at 65 cm (25,6 inches at fork length) on the measuring stick. I film the release and finally let the joy wash over me !!!
I’m absolutely euphoric, I’m the happiest guy in the world, I’ve just landed my third “decent” permit on fly, on foot, and on sight in Guadeloupe ! Total joy !
If you’re as passionate about sport fishing as I am, you’re surely thinking there’s a chance to land an “INSHORE GRAND SLAM” a challenge recognized by the IGFA…
By the way, on a “personal” level, the rest of the day could take a whole new turn !
The easiest thing would be for me to go to a little mangrove spot (which I know like the back of my hand !) just to catch a baby tarpon around 50 cm (20 inches) to “seal the deal.” But I’ve already achieved two grand slams of this type in the past (the subjects of two other articles on this blog), though both times with small permits. This permit is already a good size, and the same goes for the two bones, so I fully intend to try to include a tarpon of decent size in this new challenge as well …
The challenge is far from a sure thing. The tarpon is certainly the hardest fish to hook in the world. The proof lies in this well-known statistic : out of about ten tarpons strikes, only one or two result in a successful fight…
A quick break, I eat, and then it’s back to it. Three and a half hours have passed since the start of this session.
I know where to find a few tarpons right now along the coast, ranging from 90 cm (35 inches) to 1.30 m (50 inches).
I head there, set up my rod, leader, and the right fly, and start watching the sea. Conditions are tough with a steady 30 km/h minimum (20mph) headwind !
After 15 minutes with no visible activity on the surface, I start blind casting. An area of about fifty meters (165 ft) looks promising.
After a good fifteen minutes of casting, all the while watching, I finally see two tarpons “rolling,” which I estimate to be over a meter long (3,3 ft), that’s just what I need… They’re swimming about twenty meters to my right. I reposition myself, staying as inconspicuous as possible. I’m now pretty sure I’m in the right spot.
I keep blind casting and suddenly I feel a big bite…! I set the hook hard! It looks promising ! And it jumps right away ! I see a tarpon jump out of the water about 7 or 8 meters (25 ft) in front of me.
Then he starts jumping all over the place, like a madman ! It’s fun to watch, but the more he jumps, the more likely he is to unhook himself !
He gains a few meters. I set the hook again and finish the fight by landing the tarpon on the beach.
That’s how I’d just achieved a new “Inshore Grand Slam.” But more importantly, my “real” first Grand Slam, three nice-sized fish each, all caught from the shore, on a flyrod, and in Guadeloupe, no less !
An incredible day that I’ll remember for the rest of my life !
A fantastic achievement accomplished in 5 hours and 30 minutes/lol ?!
