Best Belize it
- Clay Parrish
- May 22
- 9 min read
Updated: Jun 4
Part 1: DIY Days
After several fly tying nights around the wood stove of the cabin and gear preparation this trip somehow still snuck up on me. Three flights in and the next thing I knew I was getting picked up on the airstrip by the boys. Chris Sobrito and Chris Woods were noticeably ragged and salty from their four days of DIY fishing before my arrival. I was plunged into the new environment with a chaotic golf cart ride; zig zagging through pedestrians and mopeds whizzed by.
It hadn’t hit me that I was in a fly fisherman’s paradise until I woke up at 4 am and drove an hour in a cramped golf cart, using a headlamp as headlights, to arrive in time to witness the sunrise on a remote stretch of shoreline. For the first three days I set out to explore twenty plus miles along the El Norte coastline up to the Bacalar Chico Nature Preserve. I intently gazed on the water for tails, wakes, or any suspicious activity for over an hour…nothing. Just as I decided to grab a snack, a solo tail appeared and, just as quickly, it sank below the surface. Judging by the tail size, she was a full grown one. I waded out and a tail re-surfaced. Without hesitation but almost in a trance, I dropped a crab in his face. A couple of strips in and I thought… what?…A take on the first cast of the trip! I kept stripping but couldn’t stay tight as the permit swam towards me. In the heat of stripping, he whirled and abruptly snapped the line leaving a boil behind. If I’d only let the tension off the line milliseconds earlier. Sheeewww, what a start!
We easily fished for over ten hours a day with just enough break to drink Fanta from a glass bottle. Fishing aside, engaging with the new environment and local culture can create a well-rounded experience and be the highlight of many of the stories to come. Most of the time this is done by observation from behind a camera lens, hopefully indulging in the local food and beverage, but occasionally interaction with the locals. For me, these interactions aren’t to be forced but to partake as the opportunity arises, organically.
While strolling the beaches, staring out on the horizon for hours with such focus, I could barely hear anything going on around me. Then I heard "Buenos Dias senior." I spun around startled to find elderly Belizean man who was also surprised that he had snuck up on me. He laughed and introduced himself as Sylvano. He cheerfully boasted about how beautiful the day had begun and how lucky we were to be on this earth as he looked up to the sky. His job today was collecting coconuts for his wife to make homemade coconut oil.
Without asking for the secret to life, he took it upon himself to elaborate on how happiness was all we needed in life and it comes by the simplest of ways. Funny thing to discuss within minutes of meeting someone but I believe he could see I was living it right in his front yard. Sylvano made me guess his age and shared that his fountain of youth was an all natural diet from the island’s resources and daily physical labor. He also made time to mention “my wife and I are Spanish speaking people around here and you should learn,” with a nudging glare.
After watching him fill sack after sack of coconuts and hump them back down a trail through the dense vegetation, I decided to offer him a ride. I hadn’t seen any sign of a permit in over an hour, so why not? His eyes lit up “You’ll give me a ride?!” He swung his sack of coconuts in the back and hoped in with such enthusiasm, that you could tell a ride doesn’t get offered often.
The drive away from the beach showed little signs of golf cart travel. He hoped out with his coconuts and insisted I come to visit and bring his machete. I followed along to the beach shack with no signs of electrical power. He showed me around his humble abode while his wife, Elvin, was outside stirring a pot of boiling coconut oil in a cast iron pot. He then offered me some fresh coconut water. To do so, Sylvano used a worn stake sticking vertically in the yard to pry the coconut husk off. He then handed it to Elvin and muttered something in Spanish. She dried her hands on her apron and leaned over from her outdoor kitchen stool to grab a machete. With a few taps from the blunt side of the machete the coconut cracked in half with a pop. Fresh coconut milk down the hatch.
Sylvano and Elvin’s coconut oil process intrigued me. In his broken English, he explained the coconut was ground from the shell using a mechanical tool that was mounted to a wobbly wooden table. It looked like it could certainly take off a finger if you weren’t paying attention. The shavings were boiled and the dissolved mixture then sat outside in the sun for days. After a couple days the mixture was brought back to a boil to reduce further. The finished product was yellow, unlike the coconut oil you find in stores that has been refined to clear. Elvin stored it in reused plastic containers of every shape and size, stashed all around her outdoor kitchen.
Sylvano packaged me some fresh coconut shavings for a to go snack and asked if I planned to come back. Since I had gotten an eat that morning, there was no doubt I’d be back at first light. Sylvano snuck over closer and whispered “Could you bring me four Cervezas?” It was an hour's drive to town via golf cart, which he didn’t have. He explained that after all the work collecting coconuts he wanted to cool down with an ice cold cerveza. “Sure, no problem, amigo,” I responded. His eyes lit up again and he ran over to his wife to ask for the allowance to pay for the refreshments. Elvin rolled her eyes and I could see she wasn’t going to hand over the cash without some persuasion. I had to laugh inside about how this conflict seems to be world-wide. I had no idea what Sylvano’s negotiation tactics were, but there were signs they may not be going his way. I interrupted the bickering by adding “The cervezas are on me.”
The next morning tailing schools of permit were everywhere. Ideal wading conditions with happy fish feeding in slow predictable directions. This will be the day I land my first permit. With the large schools I was able to slowly shuffle in front of them. The crab pattern that had worked the day before, on the large solo fish, was rejected. There was no wind that day, so the fish may have been spooked from the large splat of the dumbbell eyes. A change to a bead-chain squimp resulted in a grab. It was obvious the tug was from a very small fish but a trophy none-the-less for my first permit! Jokes on me - it was a Palmeta, aka not a real permit.
With so many different looking water features that could hold fish it's hard to pick a location. Should I stay on the beach, wade the grass flats, or full send it to breakers along the reef? Maybe it was the degree of danger, but the reef looked intriguing with its coral bottom and drastic depth changes providing habitat for all sorts of critters. After all the miles I put on the past couple days, the Simms Flats Sneakers were being put to the test. The reef was beautiful but all the permit and bonefish action was on the grass flats. On the long walk back I stumbled across a stingray mudding with permit feeding as crustaceans fled from the ray. I knew this was a great opportunity to catch a DIY permit while they were actively feeding. Unfortunately it didn’t work out. Oh well the next three days will be guided trips from Silver Ghost Belize!
Part 2: Silverghost Belize
Finally it was my chance on the bow of my friend Gordy’s panga with Silver Ghost Belize. Unfortunately the previous 3 days were hard-fought with picky fish and sharp coral heads. I wasn’t overconfident that my luck would change anything.
That morning we went to a channel between two islands that was known to host a big school of permit. It was deep water and a lot of current but we were waiting for the sun to hit the flats. We saw some shadows and made a cast in their direction. Boom hooked up. Gordy immediately committed it was weird he wasn’t making any long runs but refrain from saying anything more. Turned out to be a Horse-Eyed Jack on 16 lb test. The hook happened to be perfectly in the corner of his mouth. I’ll probably never catch another Horse-eye on the fly iin my life. We weren’t skunked.
Time to hit the flats. After seeing a few singles with no-shot opportunities we were still fishless at lunch. Moral was fading but for some reason I was still confident the day wasn’t over. Just then Gordy’s hawk eyes spotted a school’s wake over 300’ away, allowing him time to position the boat. Crucial step enabling the angler, me, to make a good presentation at distance.
Permit’s erratic directional changes make it difficult for the angler to judge where to place the fly to be along their path while not spooking the school, and allowing enough time for the fly to sink to eye level. This often leads to several re-casts in a very short time while they’re within range.
I landed my fly and the school continued towards it. Then started to veer off as they got close. Commentary from the polling platform went something like this… “Striipp striiiipppp striiiippppppp…ok re-caaa, no no no leave it leave it!” Just as I went to re-cast one of the permit swerved from the school following one of @thefinfinder’s permit approved flies. He was on, and rippin’ drag.
On the second day Sobrito was on the bow. After a long day it was time for a hail mary. What better place than Cayo Rosario. The key was a well known fishery with a proven track record. Sobrito had caught his first permit wading this sand bar a few years ago and was excited to revisit it’s prime permit habitat. Now the key had a structure out over the water currently getting a new roof. We poled through pvc poles leaving the island in multiple directions, and marking future piers.
Gordy quickly spotted a large school weaving between the coral bottom and white sand flats. With a couple other boats in the area they were already on edge and swimming at a good clip. Gordy polled patiently, waiting for the school to come in striking distance to put Chris in position. It almost felt like we were playing pinball on the flat as they came in and out of sight. At times I thought we should ask the roofers to point out the school for us.. After multiple attempts they swang close enough without spooking and we had one on. A big one. Chris was immediately deep into the backing as the permit stayed with the school. The roofers shouted with excitement from their grandstands less than 100 yards away. The permit ended up being tagged by Sarteneja Alliance for Conservation in collaboration with Bonefish and Tarpon Trust.
Just as I wanted to boast about how amazing our trip to San Pedro Island was, I got the news of the dredging within Hol Chan Marine Reserve on Cayo Rosario. After returning to the states I decided to do some research on Cayo Rosario’s development. (see links below). My search exploded with pictures of signs protesting the development. One sign that stuck with me read, “No Flats, No Fish…No Future.”
Environmental impacts like this happen all too often but it hits differently when you’ve had such a memorable experience, fished its beautiful flats, and admired the exact location where the impact is taking place (check the background of the previous shot). As an outsider, I won’t pretend to know all the details but I can share what I saw on my trip. The dredging of the marine preserve is for one of the largest over-the-water resorts in Belize and on a pristine 6.5 acre island. The ironic part of this new resort development is it is happening in sight of countless resorts for sale, abandoned large hotels, and empty tiki bars. When is it enough? If you want to know more give it a Google. Fair warning, you will have to wade through all the ads for fishing, snorkeling or other water bound tourist attractions hosted on this marine preserve.
Ok I’m not trying to be Debby downer here. The trip to San Pedro Island was a thrill and everything I wanted out of a destination fishing trip. I had a chance to do some personal pursuits, experience the culture, and catch the fish I came for. On my DIY days I had a couple of permit eats and landed several bonefish and barracuda while experiencing the atoll’s flora and fauna at ground level. Gordy finally put me on my first permit and my good friend Sylvano showed me how gracious of a host a stranger can be.
Helpful links:
If you want to check out more photos from Belize check out the collection page.
FYI if you want to dig deep into the local experience visit the Riverside Sports Bar & Grill. If you go, let me know how it went. BTW they have great breakfast burritos in the morning served out of the window shown here.
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