Bonefish Heaven

By Louis Cahill This tiny key is the only dry land in sight. Just a rise in the sand with a little knee high vegetation, interrupting a seemingly endless white sand flat. The skiff glides silently around it’s shore. The water is Coke bottle green and glistens in the bright Bahamian sun, a breath of breeze keeping it playful and light. In the distance, I can barely...

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