In Search of a Rising Tide

Format: DVD
Length: 25 minutes Writer/Director/Producer: Jamie Howard
Editor: Elisa Bonora
Web: www.howardfilms.com

I HAVE A CONFESSION to make.  Like many others before me, I've come to love the Bahamas — the water, the isolation, the unhurried character of the people.  The opportunity to spend several weeks each spring exploring the flats on my own skiff in the company of friends, far from any lodge or guide, only heightens this prejudice.

It was with high hopes, then, that I viewed Jamie Howard's In Search of a Rising Tide, a short film promising "a journey deep into the bights of Andros ... providing a glimpse into [its] rare bonefish culture."  The film follows two guides, Andy Smith and Charlie Neymour, as they fish deeper flats of Andros in search of a fish larger than the local "record," a 16-pound, 8-ounce beast caught on a Nasty Charlie — a fly put into the history books by the local grandfather of fishing, Charlie Smith, and the late Bob Nauheim.

Filmed in digital video, the scenes capture the sense of Bahamas skiff-based angling perfectly:  the white hull skimming over flat-calm crystal waters, brilliant shellfish against white sand, expired conch shell banks, the seemingly featureless shoreline. Further along are stalking and casting sequences, then the segmented shots of the poignant moments of the fight: clearing the line, the insane spin of the reel, the fish at boatside, and the exultant release (yes, even Bahamian guides get happy when they catch a bonefish).

The movie speaks clearest when the native guides were allowed to tell their stories in the lyrical banter and wry sense of humor common to the Bahamian people.  Viewers will remember Errold Braynen's quip "I ain't no more a young man, but I still fishin' it!" and the filmmaker is careful to make the native participants the focus of the dialogue. If nothing else, this sets In Search of a Rising Tide apart as the first of its genre to capture what will be considered classic footage of the first full generations of Bahamian guides.

Certainly, the guides showcased their skilled boat handling, casting and fish fighting ability. I did find myself questioning a scene involving rumors of a "twenty-five pound bonefish," which detracted some from the film's otherwise authentic characters and true-to-life script.  But a sizable fish landed at the end of the film serves to quell oft-spoken beliefs (especially in my other favorite place, the Florida Keys) that the Bahamas flats are full of small fish that eat only "micro flies."  A small detail, maybe, but is fly fishing not essentially just that — a game of details, measured in inches, recorded in seconds?

Charlie Smith, with his wry smile and insight into bonefish behavior, was a highpoint of the film.  Additionally, the relaxed interview with the three guides, Mr. Braynen, Andy Neymour, and Rudy Bell, nicely showcased the culture and feel of native Bahamians.  Refreshingly absent was the "on stage, advertisement" persona common to so many guides and outfitters on the typical hook-and-bullet shows.  The scenes of fly boxes, techniques of fishing deeper water and pointing out the fish's roe-filled belly were are nice specifics that add depth and substance to the film.

The natural sounds permeating the film — the wind whistling, the fly line swooshing through the air, the waves lapping against the hull — are additional high notes. Jamie Howard has a keen eye and ear for the essence of the local bonefishing experience. My only quibble with the audio aspects of the film is that occasionally he lets the filmmaker's narrative upset the nice balance he's created. In a few cases relying on the native voices to preview an action scene would have worked better than the intoned script.

The film left me with warm memories of my days spent chasing bonefish in the islands, and in grabbing hold of the personalities at the root of Bahamian bonefishing, it reaffirmed the individual reasons we all love to fish there.  That alone makes the film worthy of watching, even without some of the gorgeous cinematography.  There is word that Mr. Howard has a film on tarpon in the works — let's hope that the author carries forward what he learned in Andros and finds 25 minutes that are as genuine.