What I don't quite understand is the concept of "stupid" vs. "smart" fish. The Keys are notorious for smart fish, ie fish that have seen everything but the kitchen sink thrown at them and therefore are wise to the puny plans of we fly fishers. Christmas Island is supposed to have "dumb" bones and your granny can catch them.
What happens? Finite population of fish gets caught-and-released enough that some part of their brain that sees a Crazy Charlie says "nope, been there, done that."?
The Harbour Island bones weren't totally paranoid. I wasn't exactly laying down Lefty Kreh quality casts and they weren't spooking, they'd look, they'd follow, they'd turn. Change flies, try again, same deal.
Most intense anticipation I have ever felt in my life, including trying to get my hand down my first dress as a teenager. I mean weak knees, clammy palms, all those bonefish fever cliches were totally true in my case. Great guides make all the difference. I could pole out there on a fully decked out flats skiff with the latest and greatest gear and never come as close as the Cleare father-son duo got me to the fish.
I STILL WANNA BONEFISH! WAAHH!