Tonga Key provides shade for Miskito fishermen, and its long flats are home to permit.
There’s a possibility we won’t land a permit over the course of the week — a sentiment that is paired with the unending optimism that we might. Everyone treats permit fishing differently. I prefer to go with the “journey is the destination” mentality and not worry about the outcome.
It’s 4:45 a.m. I sip a cup of coffee and dig my bare feet into the cool, presunrise sand. It’s warm, and the breeze is non-existent. People move about quietly and slowly, the modus operandi of mornings here. A few brush their teeth while standing shin-deep in the Caribbean. Others grab clean laundry from a maze of clotheslines. Guides and staff speak an English-Creole fusion brought over from the Bay Islands to the west. There’s an exotic melody to the soft, morning cadence of their speech, which emanates from the raised guide quarters, the kitched and those
