The Blue Horizon
Life on the Flats
I just returned from bonefishing, which is always one of my favorite trips of the year. The tidal flats are lovely under a blue sky and the color changes when the water moves and the clouds pass over the sun. It’s dramatic in the absence of everything. There are mangroves and you’ll see ospreys sitting on their nests—their eggs hatch at this time of year. They’ll fly over if you get too close. Otherwise the only sound is the wind and you really feel alone.
I became fascinated in the flats when the Times (back when they still had a robust travel section) published this great story. I still have this section of the paper at Pine Lake! The author wrote about fishing and travel and food all together, it made such an impression on me. The writer, I discovered later, was Sam Sifton, who became the food critic for the Times and went on to become a celebrated cookbook author, among other distinctions (and a very fine angler too!).
The first time I went out on the flats, in Andros, I couldn’t believe the expanse. You couldn’t look any further. The horizon was in every direction and it felt as far from vertical New York City as you can possibly be. It felt like I was at the end of the world. It didn't matter that the fishing was humbling, which it certainly was. I wrote about all this in The Optimist, for those interested in the serious fishing details. Though I realize I’ve written about bonefish and the flats quite a bit, here and here.