Reflections of 2025
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A tribute to Flip Pallot
On August 26, the angling world lost an Icon.
A friend and mentor to us all passed on at 82 years young. Having known Flip for many years, I was fortunate enough to call him a friend, as many anglers did, but he was far more than a friend and an excellent angler. Flip and Lefty were our mascots of the angling world for decades. They were both “Old School.” Which meant “You say what you mean and do what you say.” Flip was a humble, quiet, reflective man, unnoticed by many people around him. Which is how he wanted it. But when the rubber met the road, he was always there. After Hurricane Sandy, Flip had heard through Lefty that I had lost my boat and home, among many other things. Flip, on his own, contacted Hell’s Bay Boatworks. I’ll never know what he said, but shortly after, I received a call from Hells Bay, telling me they wanted me in one of their boats and would do whatever possible to make that happen, and asked me to join their team of fly-fishing guides. Who does that? Flip did, and he did it on his own. When I picked up my boat from Hells Bay Boatworks, my son and I stopped to see Flip and thank him. We sat and shared a drink, reminiscing about the years and his visits to Montauk. I thanked him for all he had done. His reply was, “Well, it was no more than right.”
Flip will be missed.
Big Bahama Permit in August
What do you do when a friend invites you to the Bahamas on a Permit fishing excursion in August? My answer was “Count me in!” Knowing how warm it can get down south this time of year, I was encouraged when he mentioned we would be traveling on a Phenom 300 E sport jet at 500 mph at 45,000 feet, where the outside temperature is -70°F. This jet pins you in your seat upon take-off, then runs quietly and smoothly at altitude. It will forever ruin me for commercial flights.
During our flight, we reviewed our strategies, looked over Bob’s hand-tied fly collection, and discussed which flies we should try first. Bob is an extraordinary fly tyer with shrimp and crabs that are so life-like, I was tempted to eat one myself. It turns out that the Bahamas temperatures aren’t that different from Long Island, New York, in the summer. We arrived at an empty lodge with a pleasant breeze blowing off the ocean. We brought our fly-tying vices and supplies with us, eager to begin our Permit adventure in uncharted waters.
The weather in the Southern Oceans this time of year is interesting. Weather and cloud patterns are always changing. At times, the clouds look like steam rising from the tongue of the ocean. Thunderstorms build up energy, sending lightning strikes bouncing off the water with thunder so loud it shakes the bottom of the boat. Ten minutes later, we have a cloudless blue sky.
Yes, there are Permit to be found, and plenty of them. Many free swimmers are in search of a tasty shrimp or crab, and others are following Sting Rays that blow out the same. Our eyes scanned an expansive white sand flat. Our guide, who has X-ray vision, spots a Permit feeding 200 feet off the bow. He is a free swimmer, searching around the Sargassum weed. Bob and the captain were as excited as I was, as a 25-pound Permit turned toward us. They suggested I stalk him on foot. Not taking my eyes off the fish, I slid into the water and found myself up to my shoulders in warm water, which was actually kind of pleasant, but not a good vantage point to see or cast to your fish. Next, I bounce off the bottom, reaching for the deck of the skiff with one hand, holding my rod in the other. Bob grabs my rod as I quietly pull myself back on deck. I looked off the bow and saw he was still there feeding, unaffected by all our goings-on. I composed myself, as a gentle breeze cools me, I focused, loaded the rod, and dropped one of Bob’s crab flies directly in front of him. He saw it and started tracking, closer and closer to the boat. I was thinking he was getting too close, so I slowed almost to a complete stop and twitched the fly twice, and that was it. He picks it up. I felt an ever-so-slight pull. The Permit moved away and stopped! I set it again very lightly. He’s off! Next thing, I’m 200 feet into my backing. As my Permit raced around the flat, my line was picking up weeds; I’m hoping it wouldn’t be too much additional weight on my leader. I tried to steer him around huge rafts of Sargassum weeds that I know will break me off. At a point, I realized I had him under control and steered him slowly towards the boat, knowing he wasn’t done. After another run dangerously close to a raft of Sargassum, my Permit is now forty feet from the boat. Bob went over the side to do a tail grab. As the Permit approached, Bob grabbed, but missed, Bob is now submerged. The Permit also dived for the bottom. For an instant, I saw no one, no fish, no Bob. A split second later, Bob appears holding the fish, and he yelled, “I got ’em!” We all exploded in laughter, relief, and joyful excitement. I got in the water, and Bob handed him off to me. What a prize! This fish is beautiful- strong, powerful, and yet soft as a baby. His huge eye was watching me as I prepared to release him. I looked at Bob. “Couldn’t have done it without you!”I paused for a moment to reflect and to appreciate the magnificence of this beautiful beast. Then, in a single motion, he swam from my hand, unharmed, strong and resolute, back to his home: the Sea.
What a Day!
“We are Fishing”
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This year’s Bahamas Sight-fishing Trips
We have some exciting new videos and photos in “Photos of the Month. “Check it out. We had an enthusiastic crew of fly-fishermen with some newcomers, including a genuine Wyoming trout guide. Phil, who guides on all the great rivers out West. Phil came to the Bahamas to see what it was all about. He managed to hook some hefty bones, cast to Permit, and hook a Tarpon (you can watch the video in the “photos of the month”). I’m not sure Phil will ever be the same. He left, mumbling something about next year.
We are fishing!
Your Captain, Barry Kanavy
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On another note, I have long been excited about the opportunity to introduce young people to the “Natural World” surrounding Long Island. Our rich maritime history provides insight into our unique marine environment. Bountiful ocean waters spilling into our South Shore Bays produce amazing opportunities for anglers on Long Island. So this year, we are introducing “Bay Camp Charters” for young outdoors people.
Read on:
Announcing Our New BAY CAMP CHARTERS
Coming This Summer: June 23rd – August 27th
Visit Bay Camp Charters for more information https://naturalanglers.com/baycampcharters/
Fly Fishing & Light Tackle Charters
Orvis Endorsed for more than 30 years
Natural Anglers
Our goal is to do whatever we can to take you to the next level.
Natural Anglers client Caught & Released a World Record 60+ pound Permit
“An Angler Dream”
Some days, you wake up and know today will be a good day. Why is that? Maybe the tide and planets align, and even your dog is unexplainably happy. February 24th was such a day. Bob and I were on the last day of a six-day fishing adventure in the Acklins. We were plagued with two and a half days of unfishable weather due to a cold front that buried the Northeast in snow and sub-zero temperatures. The Acklins Islands, 250 miles South of Nassau, are also feeling the effects. On our last day, we both felt energized and prepared for anything as our trip was quickly coming to an end. It wasn’t long before we were both into Bonefish and huge Cudas prowling the flats. After Bob donated some tackle to these toothy torpedoes and managed to land a few beauties, it was nearly 2 PM, and Bob and I were experiencing that sinking feeling as the end of our trip closed in. Our guide, Garon, decided to try one more spot. That’s where this story begins…
Photo Credit to Capt. Barry Kanavy www.naturalanglers.com
“PERMIT – IT’S HUGE!”
by Bob Cosgriff
These are the words we all long to hear. But let’s start at the beginning.
After several months of miserable winter weather, my friend Capt. Barry Kanavy and I were looking forward to six days of fishing on Acklins Island at Grey’s Point Bonefishing Lodge. Acklins is known for its bonefishing, so we loaded up on equipment for the grey ghost. Evan Peterson at Angler Adventures had suggested we hook up with the head guide at Greys, Garon Williams, to show us around.
My motto is to be ready for “anything”. So that means 5 rods: Three eight rods for Bones, a nine rod for Permit, and a ten-weight rod for Barracuda. Everything was packed, lines cleaned, leaders checked, and five boxes of flies; just the basics!
The week started with three days of fly-tying as a cold front shut everything down. On days four & five, the clouds parted, and we got to experience what Grey’s Point is noted for, stalking bones on expansive wading flats. On our last day, I made a casual comment to Garon that we’d like to fish from the boat and try our luck with the Cudas we had seen prowling the deeper flats. That request would change our fishing lives forever.
Photo Credit: Barry Kanavy
Two hours later, Barry and I surveyed our frayed leaders, mangled wire, shredded Barracuda flies, and some great photos to remember our time stalking these torpedoes. Garon mentioned he had one more place to show us for barracuda and the occasional permit.
We motored over on the ocean side and cruised around for five minutes when I heard Garon call from the back of the boat, “PERMIT – IT’S HUGE” …tailing behind a ray.
I jumped off the poling platform where I had been sitting and walked forward as Barry pulled out my permit rig of choice: Helios 2 9wt, Nautilus NV reel, Rio 9-weight permit line connected to a Rio 20lb leader, ending with a tan Kung Fu Crab size 4. I was ready. I was confident. After all, I had recently tamed some badass cudas! I stripped out my line, saw the ray, and on my third attempt cast 65 feet, landing the leader 2 feet over the ray. I let the fly sink in the 5-foot water and then felt a small tug. I set the hook, and the permit was on. Things stayed pretty calm, the line cleared the deck, and everything was under control. I had caught a small permit before, so how bad could this be? I would soon find out.
The fish then began a slow turn on my right side. Not a full run but a slow drive-by so he could give me a once-over. It was then that I realized Garon had been trying to keep me calm when he said, “huge Permit”. It wasn’t huge, it was a monster! I felt my confidence drain as if I’d sprung a leak. I clicked down the drag three times . . . I was going to need all of it. I looked at the nine-weight in my hands and realized that I had brought a knife to a gunfight. Seconds later, my reel started screaming, and I said goodbye to my fly line for the next 35 minutes as the permit began his run toward open water and large swells. Barry grabbed the back of my belt to stabilize me in the rolling water and to relay commands to Garon. Twice the fish surged out to deeper water, and I was still hanging on. Then I looked down at my reel to see the backing getting very thin. I estimated I had 50 feet left and yelled to Barry and Garon to fire up the engine, and we slowly regained some backing only to have the fish take off again. We kept this game up for 20 minutes until he made a run to some rocks on a point. Now I had my moment of truth. I had to stop him from reaching the rocks, even if I broke him off. I swung the rod to the left, put as much pressure as I could, and hoped he would turn before the rod exploded. Ten feet from the rocks, the fish turned, and for the first time in the battle, I felt I really had a chance to land this beast.
Slowly, I gained backing and started to control his head. Finally, I saw my fly line coming back through the guides. 35 minutes had gone by, and my arms and legs were on fire. Slowly, he came to the boat, moving back and forth, using his body as a brake against me. He was three feet off the bow when I had a new panic attack that I had lost my leverage, and the big fish was taking advantage of that. Finally, he came around the side. Garon touched the leader and grabbed the tail as if his life depended on it.
Barry and I waited for Garon to stand up with our trophy, but nothing happened. Then we heard him yell that the fish was too heavy. Barry grabbed Garon’s backpack straps and pulled our guide back into the boat – holding the biggest permit we had ever seen. The fish sat on the floor – We were stunned! No one did anything or spoke for 15 seconds; we just looked at a truly colossal permit. We regained our composure and with both Garon and I holding the fish Barry took some quick pictures.
Photo Credit: Capt. Barry Kanavy
Now our efforts reversed as we scrambled to get the fish back into the water to live another day. He was tired, but slowly he got stronger, and Garon let go of the tail as he headed off to deeper water.
How big was the permit? We estimated sixty pounds. Other veteran guides, after seeing the pictures, say 60-70 pounds, others less. Is it a record? We will leave that to others to decide. We quickly measured the length against the rod – 45 inches! The girth is not measured, but look at the photos – you guess.
All we know is that on February 24, 2015, something special took place out there. Garon summed it up best when he said, “We will fish the rest of our lives and never catch a fish like that again”. Barry and I quietly nodded our heads as we slowly motored back to the lodge. We were done for the day.
Ultimately, it wasn’t about breaking or claiming records. The best part was watching the fish swim away.
