After all the hard work that had gone into our new tackle shop in the West End in London, Grangers Fishing Tackle, the promise of lots of permit to shoot a fly at were too tempting and we headed for Belize. On leaving arrivals one is faced with a red British letter box and a Harrier Jet with RAF roundels – just like being back home until one sees the airport chemist advertising Viagra.

After a short air conditioned drive, we arrive at the port where there is time for a beer whilst our bags are being loaded onto the transfer boat. Two hours later we spot the lodge and realise that the brochure was not lying; it was idyllic and even the sand around our accommodation had been raked.

The lodge is owned and run by Craig and Karen Hayes and the food and service is to a high standard, which is a change from some destination fishing I have done. Most of the party had their partners with them, including a honeymoon couple. He was obviously laying down the ground rules for their married life together.

Excitement, the solitude and the beauty of the surroundings meant that I was up very early on the first day and had coffee at the waters edge watching the bones and parrot fish tailing in the shallow water. We were soon in the skiff with our guide and placed ourselves in his hands as to what we should fish for and when.

He suggested permit and I was surprised when he took us into the lagoon rather than the area between the reef and the shore where I have vainly tried to catch them elsewhere. The lagoon is big, but he knew exactly where to take us having considered the breeze and tides, and we were presented with shoals of what is usually an elusive species tailing and flashing.

He suggested a bigger crab than we usually use and told us to cast into the middle of the shoal. Stripping was again faster than usual but resulted in a take very quickly that was lost with a trout strike. Another take quickly, but this was struck tarpon fashion and the line parted. The next take was correctly struck and the permit exploded into a series of runs that took 15 minutes of adrenalin, and this was only a 15lb fish!

We were not too keen on fishing for bones as we were conceited enough to think that with such large shoals it would be easy. Wrong again, the flats are shallow over sharp coral and many was the time we were both hooked into Mother Belize with a large shoal slowly passing between us, despite our frustrated curses.

Our guide supplied us with flies that were not so heavy with wonderful names like Coon Bone and Chicken Poop. This meant that we could catch them and then try to manoeuvre these bullets with rod held high.

The tarpon are migratory and whilst there are resident fish, we were having too much fun to try for them seriously. Our guide painted a wonderful picture of the sport they provided when they arrive June/July and how big they are.

We left the Atoll feeling that we should have gone for two weeks, not one, to do justice to such a varied and prolific fishing. The final icing on the cake was when the check in lady at the airport asked if I was a British Soldier as the departure tax would be insignificant. I replied that if I was a soldier at fifty eight, I must be a General.

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