Beginner’s Luck Just Isn’t Fair : Fishing: President Bush gets skunked. Ted Williams tops out at 12 1/4 pounds. But a reporter’s first bonefish weighs 13 pounds 8 ounces.

ISLAMORADA, Fla. —  It just isn’t fair.

President Bush’s favorite getaway may be to go bonefishing in the Florida Keys, which by coincidence put him here the same week as a reporter from Los Angeles.

The President and the reporter never met. Just as well.

The President went bonefishing Saturday. Skunked.

He went tarpon fishing Sunday. Skunked again.

Fishing elsewhere on the shallow flats, the reporter, an angling klutz who wouldn’t have known a bonefish from a goldfish, caught two, plus a tarpon.

Worse, the largest bonefish the President has ever caught was 13 pounds--Jan. 13, 1989, just before his inauguration.

The first one the reporter ever caught weighed 13 pounds 8 ounces and measured 32 1/2 inches. A fiberglass replica of the President’s fish is mounted in George Hommell’s tackle store here. Hommell is the President’s guide.

“We scouted that area back there last Tuesday and counted over 40 schools of fish,” Hommell said. “It was unbelievable. This is the first time he’s been skunked, but the weather conditions were bad, with all the wind. Today it’s calm and beautiful.”

It just isn’t fair.

The President doesn’t get many chances to go fishing, and when he does he is never far from the Secret Service or a two-way radio.

“He was involved on the radio, but that was nothing to do with fishing,” Hommell said. “We caught a bunch of snappers and everything, and we came in early so he could do his press conferences.

“He’s a good fisherman. He’s not an expert. You can’t do as little fishing he does and be an expert, but anybody who loves fishing and the environment the way he does loves this area. I remember the first time we fished, he remarked how clear the water was and he said that he wanted to keep it that way for his kids and their kids, and that was no campaign deal.”

While the President fished, Coast Guard and Florida Marine Patrol craft were nearby. Meanwhile, he monitored affairs of state.

Ted Williams’ passion was catching bonefish. Until recently he lived in a home here overlooking the shallow flats where they thrive. Williams is the last man to bat .400, but he would rather have caught a record bonefish. He once said he had caught more than 2,000, but never one bigger than 12 1/4 pounds.

Thirteen-eight? It just isn’t fair.

“In 20 years I’ve seen over 5,000 bonefish caught, and I’ve seen only two that were bigger,” said Vic Gaspeny, a guide. “Some of the skippers here have been fishing for years and have never seen one that big.”

That includes the reporter’s guide, Jack Backus, who left the Seattle Police Dept. six years ago for a different way of life.

Idling his 17-foot skiff into a favorite fishing area, Backus told his clients: “I love this flat. I should have blindfolded you before I brought you here.”

Guides guard their secrets here, but they work hard for their clients. Backus coached the reporter through the 25-minute process of landing the trophy bonefish.

First the fish grabbed the shrimp and burned off about 200 yards of 10-pound-test line. He relaxed for a few seconds, allowing the reporter to rewind some line, then ran off some more. That would go on until (a) the fish got tired or (b) the reporter’s arms fell off.

And bonefish don’t tire easily.

Finally, it was cranked close enough for Backus to net it, weigh it and measure it. After some quick photographs, the fish was returned gently to the water.

But as Backus turned away it rolled belly up.

“Jack!” the reporter yelled, and Backus kicked off his shoes and leaped into the 18-inch shallows. He grabbed the fish, stroked it for a minute to restore natural breathing, then, satisfied that it would survive, watched it swim away.

In the code of the Keys, the death of such a magnificent fish would have ruined the whole day.

It wouldn’t have been fair. The President would understand that.