The flat where I had staked myself out had a bottom that was almost white, the water so shallow that the skeg from the paddleboard left a trail. I stood on the board, the sun at my back, and waited. Ten minutes into my vigil, they appeared. A small school of five bonefish worked its way across the flat, creating a multi-pronged wake. I had chosen a place where the flat narrowed and there was no way the fish could pass me without being in range. My heart rate increased with every yard closer the fish came. 

When the school was about 45 feet to my left, I took my shot. The cast wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough and the Crazy Charlie-esque pattern I had created landed about three feet in front of and on my side of the fish. I made one strip and the lead fish charged. I felt the line go tight and strip-set. The line went slack and the fish spooked back to the right. Keeping my composure, I continued to make short strips. After two of these, the fish that had been the second closest accelerated and ate. This time the hook stayed put and soon the bone was ripping line across the flat.

I’m a smallmouth bass, musky, and trout angler/guide from Wisconsin. The fishing I do on the daily is very different from the scene I just described. I fish almost entirely in rivers and, with the notable exception of rising trout, my casting is generally to fish I can’t actually see but that I know are there. I know because a lifetime of chasing these fish has given me the ability to see them without seeing them. Every skilled freshwater river angler knows what I’m talking about. 

But, man, how cool is it to actually see the fish you’re casting to? In gin clear water on a tropical flat? It’s a pretty special experience.

When somebody asks me if they should go on a saltwater fishing trip, my answer is hell yes you should. It doesn’t matter their skill level, my answer is the same. Go. I could say something about how variety makes a person a better angler, which is true, but that’s not why I’m such a proponent. The key to becoming a good angler is to go fishing a lot. Wherever that may be. 

No. My reason is tied to something deeper in the human psyche. It’s connected to that moment standing on the paddleboard when I first saw that school of bones coming my way, to the jolt of electric excitement that such a moment provides. Everything that happens after that is pure gravy.

So, why salt? Because it’s just so damn exciting to be alive in such a beautiful place, man. It’s as simple as that..