Call of the Abacos

From May's Walker's run, we island hop south.

By Blair Wickstrom, Publisher

It's not working," yelled Sarah up to the bridge where I was using the throttles to keep our boat positioned over a nice show of fish in 600 feet. "What do you mean it's not working?" I yelled back down. "Push the button!"

Somewhere between 300 and 500 feet down, we had a fish, or two, hooked and the electric 4/0 reel wasn't working. We had already caught four yelloweye snapper and decided this was our last drop before going in to begin scouting for lobster, the season for which would open the following day.

After checking the reel's fuse, I looked at the still bucking rod, and began to handline in the 80-pound braided line. My first thought was to try to save the line by neatly piling it on the deck, but after a few hundred feet the pile looked more like the beginning of an osprey nest.

The novelty of my handline fishing experience had definitely worn off and there weren't any other volunteers on board. That's when we decided to cut the line and attach it to a 20-pound conventional outfit.

Now we were back to fishing. As Kent Hughes began bringing the fish to the surface the fight intensified. About 10 feet below the surface I noticed something long and silver where our snapper was supposed to be. "Reel, reel!" I screamed. "A 'cuda is trying to get our snapper." Kent pumped as fast as he could to deny the 'cuda a free meal.

But, the long silver fish wasn't eating our snapper, it was hooked to our line. Then its vivid stripes came into view. "Wahoo," I yelled, as I stumbled across the deck in the direction of the gaff.

Not only was there a 5-foot wahoo calmly swimming up to our boat, there was another one with it. I'm not sure the fish ever really knew it was even hooked.

As we passed the rock jetty that protects the bayside marina on Spanish Cay, we could see the afternoon dock life was already getting started. I knew the "what did you catch" questions were coming, I just wasn't sure how I was going to answer, considering how we caught our impressive 90-plus-pound wahoo.

Spanish Cay, Abaco is a 186-acre Bahamas island that's nearly all beach. The three-mile-long island has nearly two miles of beach, a 5,000-foot airstrip, 81-slip marina, villas, restaurants and a ship store. More importantly, Spanish Cay is surrounded by great fishing and diving.

Spanish Cay's location is almost exactly halfway between Walker's Cay and Marsh Harbor, near the northern tip of the Great Abaco Island. Its "tweener" location, and the fact that most of the boats, or yachts, aren't involved in serious fishing, means you end up with a very healthy fishery.

However, after golf carting back and forth to our beachside villa, weaving between the coconut palms, royal poincianas, frangipani, wild orchids, bougainvillea and hibiscus trees, I could see why many of the Spanish Cay guests never leave the island.

But, the spectacular diving, reef and ocean fishing was what brought us to the semi-private resort island.

Heading out from Spanish Cay, just north of the island, there's easy ocean access. You can safely navigate between the reefs (25-59.40'N and 77-34.52'W) and immediately begin bottom fishing to the north or south.

Just to the north there are 10 miles of barrier reef where the water quickly drops off to 100 feet. In the 60- to 150-foot depths, bottom fishing seemed to be the best. On the second drift of our first trip, we dropped small ballyhoo chunks on 16- to 20-pound spinning outfits to 90 feet and hooked two nice yellowtail so we anchored and began chumming.

In under an hour we caught several 3- to 4-pound yellowtail, a number of triggerfish and two or three Nassau grouper, with the largest close to 15 pounds. Some anglers feel that chumming on the deep reefs in The Bahamas brings in a lot of undesirable species like sharks, triggers and barracuda, and that may be true, but you also get the snapper and grouper bite going. This area was less than a mile inshore from where we deep-dropped and landed our surprise wahoo.

In the last two years I've made eight trips to bottom fish in the Abacos, Walker's and West End, and this stretch of reef seems by far the most productive. Yet there were still very few boats around.

The morning of August 1, The Bahamas lobster season opened and our harbor looked a lot like many marinas in the Florida Keys. There were a number of center consoles trailed by the bobbing heads of lobster divers working the jetties for an early and easy catch.

The most productive diving and lobstering seemed to be around Allans and Pensacola cays, about a 7-mile run from Spanish. The larger coral heads of the outside reef are fantastic for snorkeling and getting a few lobster, but the majority of the lobster we caught came from smaller limestone ledges and coral formations sprinkled throughout the grassflats in less than 10 feet of water closer to the islands.

However, if it wasn't for the occasional "Bahamian habitat" (a car hood or a corrugated roofing sheet) lobstering in the Bahamas would be as challenging as bugging in the Florida Keys.

After three full days at Spanish it was time to make the easy 12-mile run to our second Abaco destination, Green Turtle Cay. The fascinating thing about cruising in the Abacos is that you don't have to go far for a change in island flavor and totally new fishing and diving opportunities.

Green Turtle isn't much longer than Spanish Cay, but this "beamier" island, with its two bays, and true Bahamian settlement, New Plymouth, gives the feeling that you really did leave South Florida.

When entering White Sound from the Abaco Sea, you don't pick up any markers until you're just about in the Sound. Our destination was the Bluff House Yacht Club and Marina, on the left-hand side of the bay. The Bluff House's 45-slip, paulope wood dock and marina didn't have the active dock life that Spanish Cay has, with kids constantly trying to out-do each other catching dock snapper or slip after slip of fishing families sharing tales of the one that got away, but the clean and well maintained marina has everything you need.

The Bluff House began as a personal home in 1952, built on the highest point on the island to take advantage of the southeasterly seabreezes and spectacular views of New Plymouth, the Abaco Sea and Atlantic Ocean.

Today the Bluff House offers many types of accommodations, ranging from studio suites and deluxe rooms to private one-, two- and three-bedroom villas. But the nicest part of the upgraded facilities is that there are no telephones or televisions.

The 30-minute golfcart ride into the settlement of New Plymouth is worth the time, especially if you're short on any supplies. There really isn't much to see or do there, but the pastel clapboard buildings, narrow streets and friendly Bahamians certainly put you in The Bahamas frame of mind.

As for the lobster diving around Green Turtle, you don't have to go far. In fact, much of the better diving can be accessed from the oceanside beach. By boat, this is a little trickier. In order to get to the calm side of the barrier reef you have to navigate between the reef and the beach, on either end of the island. If there's much of a sea, I'd recommend that you access this reef by golfcart rather than boat, unless you're pretty confident reading the waters or have the help of someone who's been there before.

Our first trip inside the reef was with Stuart friend Chris Wigley who has been lobstering on Green Turtle for years. Chris opts to use a snare he developed rather than spearing the lobster, which is legal here with a Hawaiian sling or pole spear. Because it's against Bahamian law to keep egg-bearing female lobster, the snare or net gives you a chance to release shorts or females with eggs.

Another Bahamian treat, and a hit with kids, is diving for conch. A Palm Beach family directed us north to Manjack Channel where we found plenty in 15 to 20 feet of water. Just make sure you take the fully lipped queen conch. We were told the stouter short-lipped conch can get you sick. To avoid confusion, I'd suggest having a Bahamian clean your conch at the going rate of a dollar each.

Reef fishing around Green Turtle didn't seem as productive as Spanish, but the dolphin and tuna fishing was dependable. The previous year we caught blackfin tuna just outside of the Whale Cay channel when we visited Great Guana Cay. A year later proved no different for a late afternoon game of "tuna-football." All it took was finding the birds in about 200 feet of water just outside of Whale Cay. Within 30 minutes of leaving the Bluff House docks our cedar plug was connected to our first pint-size blackfin.

Waiting until August to take advantage of lobster season is certainly worth it. If you own a 23-foot or larger, seaworthy boat, there's still time to get a trip planned for this year. Your Florida fishing tackle and techniques will work just fine. With quality paper charts, like Waterproof's #38A or the newer GPS chips, the easily navigable waters make the trip a memorable one for the entire family.

FS