A HAPPY HOLIDAY FINE FISHING GIFTS GRACE CHRISTMAS ISLAND.

Byline: BILL BECHER

CHRISTMAS ISLAND - ``Trevally,'' yelled Beia, my normally soft-spoken fishing guide, pointing to a dark moving spot in the water. We were fishing from shore at a small cove on Christmas Island, 1,300 miles south of Hawaii.

I had been casting to the bonefish that are the featured game fish here. But we were on the lookout for giant trevally, a fish that can weigh 100 pounds and will eat a fly. It was midday and we'd been killing time until the rest of our group from the Conejo Valley Fly Fishers showed up for lunch.

Beia handed me the heavier fly rod we'd taken for just this sort of opportunity. I cast a large popper in the direction of the dark spot. ``Strip, strip, faster, strip faster,'' said Beia. I'd already missed this fish earlier in the morning - he was periodically coming close in, presumably to dine on the schools of milkfish huddled near shore.

In a sight that will feature prominently in my personal fishing highlight reel, the trevally's mouth and eyes broke the water, chasing the brightly colored popper with a look of fierce determination as the fly splashed along the surface like a fleeing baitfish.

``Strip, strip,'' yelled Beia. ``He's on,'' I said. The fish pulled hard, the line streamed out of my reel. I waded into the water, hoping to follow the fish out the opening to the cove and avoid breaking the line on the sharp coral. I wondered if I should have gotten more backing - the fish was a long ways out. But I was able to follow him and screw down the drag a bit.

The next 45 minutes was a tug of war, reeling in line only to have the fish run and reclaim what I'd cranked in. Other members of the club shouted advice and encouragement. I was the lunchtime entertainment. It's nice to have an audience when you have a huge fish on, but it does add to the pressure.

I was gaining on the fish, and finally could see him in the shallow flat off the beach where I was standing. I hadn't realized how big a fish I was dealing with. I ``walked the dog,'' changing directions on the fish. Beia waded in and grabbed his tail. Wayne Caywood, owner of Malibu Fish N' Tackle, who had organized the trip, weighed the fish. But his scale went only to 30 pounds and it was pinned.

This fish was by far the biggest I'd caught on a fly rod and destined to grow as all fish do when the catching is retold. Just lifting it for photographs was hard, but pride and leftover adrenaline made it easier. It was time to revive the fish. I sloshed it back and forth, forcing water through it's gills. The CPR worked and the trevally swam slowly out of my grasp.

While this was certainly the high point of the trip for me, there was lots of other great fishing. You often will find trout-fishing guides fishing for bonefish in the winter months, as was Gary Hooper, a guide from Rick's Sport Center in Mammoth Lakes. Not just because it's an opportunity to trade snow and chill winds for sandy beaches and warm trade winds, but because sight fishing for bonefish is reminiscent of the best trout fishing and the bonefish are great fighting fish. Even a small one will go on screaming runs.

Teannaki, one of the senior guides, spent a morning teaching me how to ``sneak'' bonefish, quietly stalking them before casting. ``Bow, please,'' he would say so the fish wouldn't see me. ``Bow lower, walk slowly, please.'' Like most fish in skinny water, bonefish are nervous and quick to bolt when something startles them. Several times I was ready to cast to a nice fish, only to have it swim away at the last moment when a bird flew too close.

Much of Christmas Island is a bird sanctuary, and frigate birds, boobies, and sooty terns stalk the fishermen stalking the bonefish. One frigate bird in particular grabbed the popper I was fishing out of the water and flew off with it until the slack went out of the line. Then it dropped the popper with a squawk.

The bonefish, or ``bones,'' have scales like mirrors, so they reflect their environment as a form of camouflage. They follow tidal flows, feeding at the bottom on tiny shrimp, crabs and the occasional fish. The key to catching one is to see it before it sees you. Then you need to make a cast (generally in a 20 mph wind) that places the fly close, but not too close to the fish. When the bone is within a 3-feet-or-so radius of your fly, which seems to be the fish's circle of visibility, you give the line a twitch to get the bone's attention. Then strip slow or fast, depending on how the fish is responding.

This was tough the first day, but after some practice, I was able to spot fish in bright sunshine in shallow water. The guides' vision is amazing; they often are able to see fish at 80 feet or more in riffled water. Their instructions come: ``Bone, 40 feet, 1 o'clock. Cast now. Cast again, five feet to the left. Wait. Strip slowly. Wait. Short strip. Short strip. Long strip. Fish on!''

Translated, this means that the guide spotted a fish, had you cast to a spot, you missed the first time and had to recast. Then a strip to get the fish's attention, several more as he chased the fly, then a long strip to set the hook. Takes are gentle, so oversetting can be a problem for those used to ripping the lips off other species. You need to be quick about clearing your line and let it stream out unimpeded until the fish is on the reel. Then be prepared for several reel-smoking runs.

Some purists might complain this much guiding is a bit like being talked down by mission control, rather then flying on your own. Fortunately, our guides were teachers who helped us learn how to spot fish on our own. One good tip was to watch the fish swim away after it was released, to see what it looked like in the water. Of course, you had to catch a fish first to do this. By the end of the week, I was able to spot fish at quite a distance, but not in all water and light conditions. Seeing, stalking, casting, presenting and hooking a decent bonefish without assistance was nearly as big a thrill as the giant trevally. One of the advantages of Christmas Island for novices is that the abundance of bonefish allow for many mistakes to be made in the learning process, and you still catch fish.

On our last day, we fished an area known as the ``Korean Wreck,'' after the remains of a freighter that met misfortune here. Unlike the flats in the lagoon, you fish the trough between the fringing reef and shore. We fished as a group, and several of us were hooked up to substantial bonefish at the same time. Conejo Valley member Bill Sarrocco survived a face plant in the water to land a big fish.

We stayed at Big Eddie and Joe's Bone Fishing Lodge and Croquet Club, the latest facility catering to fishermen to open on Christmas Island. Small, clean, and comfortable, the lodge is designed by fishermen for fishermen, with no pretensions other than to be a base for some of the best fly-fishing in the world. Unlike flats that only can be accessed by boat, much of the fishing is done by wading from shore after being transported via a truck with rod racks. The lodge also makes use of boats as transportation to those flats is inaccessible by land.

Previous British occupiers left the foundations, wells and septic system from a hospital and Big Eddie Corrie, former head guide at the Captain Cook Hotel, leased the land from the government. Together with Joe Roope, a tackle-shop owner and outfitter from Idaho, they set out to create a fly-fishing lodge that would be an improvement on the government's 30-room hotel. Getting supplies from Hawaii is a hit-and-miss operation, but no essentials are lacking and many of the island's top guides now work for Big Eddie and Joe's.

Each room at the lodge has two beds, a private bath, refrigerator, air conditioning and daily laundry service. Meals are taken in a dining-area bar that is open to the trade winds. We enjoyed cooked breakfasts, a roll- your-own lunch buffet after breakfast - sandwiches, chips and potato salad to take on our day's outing. Water, always a concern in third-world countries, comes from wells, is tested regularly and is filtered; nobody had a problem while we were there. And the island was blessedly free of biting insects, at least while we were there, though we were cautioned to watch for scorpions.

Dinners were an opportunity to eat fresh wahoo and other specialties cooked by the lodge's American-trained chef. Evening activities include tying flies for the next day, taking a stroll on the nearby beach, backgammon, exaggerating the days' catch.

IF YOU GO

To get there, you need to fly to Honolulu. The flight to Christmas Island (an Aloha Airlines plane chartered by the Kiribati government) leaves early in the morning and there is only one per week. You will need a passport and visa, which can be obtained for $25 before your trip or at the airport on the morning of your flight from Honolulu.

Our group arrived a few days early and did some sightseeing. Fly fishers should visit Hawaii's only fly shop, Nervous Water Fly Fishers, 3434 Waialae Ave, Honolulu, HI 96816, [phone]. You can book a guided trip to fish for Hawaii's peacock bass or saltwater species.

Fishing at Christmas is popular in the winter, but as the island lies very near the equator, weather stays pretty much the same year round. Malibu Fish N' Tackle will host other trips to Christmas Island. They are located at 3166 E. Thousand Oaks Blvd., Thousand Oaks. They can also be contacted by phone: [phone], and their Web site is malibufishntackle.com.

Big Eddie and Joe's can be contacted via Pacific Flyfishing Destinations, 350 West Bosanko, Coeur d' Alene, Idaho 83815, phone: [phone], or visit their Web site at castawayflyfishingshop.com.

Current cost, including meals, Kiribati fishing license, guides and airfare to and from Christmas Island is $2,595.00 U.S.

CAPTION(S):

5 photos, box

Photo: (1 -- 2 --color) A group of Conejo Valley Fly Fishers stands in the gentle surf at Christmas Island, which is home to an abundant supply of hard-fighting bonefish. Below, Bill Becher holds his prized catch of the trip, a 45-pound trevally.

Bill Becher/Special to the Daily News

Jimmy Toy/Special to the Daily News

(3 -- color) Bill Sarrocco of the Conejo Valley Fly Fishers shows off a silvery-scaled bonefish.

Bill Becher/Special to the Daily News

(4) no caption (fisherman in surf)

(5) At a spot along the beach known to locals as the ``Korean Wreck,'' bonefish will be found between the reef and shoreline.

Bill Becher/Special to the Daily News

Box: IF YOU GO (see text)