Of Spottails and Space Shuttles
Redfishing Northern Mosquito Lagoon

By Jan S. Maizler
Article & Travel Editor
Photos By Captain Ken Collette & Jan S. Maizler

The Quest

Though the circumstances of recent years afforded me the opportunity to fish most of the Space Coast, I still had one wedge of the pie to finish off- the upper reaches of the Mosquito Lagoon. I was finally able to achieve that remaining portion of the quest this past August with Captain Nathaniel "Nate" Lemmon.

I learned that these target waters- south of Ponce Inlet and alongside the town of Edgewater-stood in marked contrast to the open expanses of the Indian River. Indeed, the shallows we'.d be fishing in were full of islands interlaced with creeks, cuts, and banks- the ideal habitat for bull redfish and leg-sized seatrout to call "home."

The heat of our late summer trip had put regional populations of snook and tarpon on the feed and Nate was anxious for photographer Ken Collette and I to give these species a try. But our story was focused on species that were year-round highlights of the northern lagoon.

The three of us lucked into agreeing on a fishing day that was the target date for the descent and return of the Space Shuttle into Cape Canaveral to our south. And when the eve of our magic day arrived, the clear star-studded skies promised great visibility for fishing on the ‘morrow as well as go-ahead conditions for the Shuttle to make its' landing- the stuff of double barreled dreams.

Off We Go

Ken and I drove up from Miami the night before and stayed at the Best Western in Edgewater. I had another "endless" night caused by the anticipated excitement of fishing in new places- kind of like the eve of the first date with a girl you've had a crush on. But dawn eventually appeared. Ken and I assembled at the motel entrance to meet up with Nate so we could follow him to the boat ramp in my S.U.V.

Nate drove up in an impressive rig- an East Cape Canoe 18-foot Lostmen powered by a 4O-HP electric start 4-stroke Honda. As his rig had every shallow water feature and piece of equipment, Ken and I felt satisfied we'd be in a rig that would fly across open waters while creeping into some very skinny water.

It wasn't long before we got to the ramp. Nate quickly launched his boat and we were soon zipping south through a labyrinthine mosaic of islands, creeks, and cuts. I was struck by how different the flora and fauna were compared to my home waters of Biscayne Bay.

There were no high-rise building profiles assaulting the skies. The palm tree and mangrove beaches of the "tropical south" were replaced by foliage that I could not identify- trees that simply looked like they belonged to the "north." And the presence of bait both in frequency and sheer numbers was staggering. Likewise for water mammals like porpoises and manatee-it seemed like sea life was everywhere!

Nate mentioned that our first stop would be to get live bait to maximize the odds of good action today. While I wondered how we'd go about this, Nate soon slowed down his skiff and idled towards some small floats in the distance. He said that he'd put some fresh bait in his pinfish traps yesterday and he was hopeful we'd find plenty of lively offerings within a flick of a wire trap door. After he'd checked the cages and brought the bait aboard, it looked like we had about three-dozen live pinfish and pigfish in the livewell.

Nate also was delighted to find a small live permit in one of his traps. He mentioned that it was indeed a rarity for this species to straggle so far north and into this backcountry habitat. He photographed his little prize and gently let it go into the greenish brown water.

Bringing It On!

After Nate tidied up his skiff, he told us to have a seat. He fired up his engine and we ran south another few miles. Nate slowed down his skiff as he pointed to another flats boat a few hundred yards to the east. The vessel off our bow was a striking sight- a shimmering profile against an eastern sky lit up by an orange ball of a sun swathed in yellow and reddish clouds. Nate cut the engine and eased his electric trolling motor into the water. As our boat slowly glided forward, the liquid whooshing of the waters and the colors we were heading into made me feel like the three of us were part of a big heroic dream- little did I know that booming skies and silver spacecraft would take me back into this magic in a few hours!

Eventually we got close enough to the other boat and the "stick-figured" anglers took on form, shape, and detail. All three of us soon saw that both anglers in the other boat were hooked up. The deep and persisting bends in their rods told us these were larger gamesters. Nate pointed out the skiff's proximity to the edge of a huge shallow bank that was alive with leaping mullet and said, " It looks like we've found some large redfish…let's ease in quietly."

In this heart-pounding interlude, he told me to pick up one of his spinning rods, and bait up with a small pinfish by hooking it firmly behind the dorsal fin. I kept the vibrating meal alive by soaking it in the lagoon waters as we moved along.

Once Nate was satisfied that his skiff was optimally situated, he staked off the Lostmen by pushpole. After scanning the convergence of the flats edge and the moving mullet schools, Nate spotted a scallop or indentation on the drop-off that seemed to have an overabundance of movement and nervous waters. He told me to cast my offering into that hopeful hotspot and fish the bait on a closed bail. Since we were using circle hooks, all that any strike required was a quick "reel-down." My cast landed perfectly.

In the interminable time of a minute and 600 heartbeats, the braided line transmitted every tiny pulse of the bait's surges until a huge weight crushed that subtle line movement and the rod heeled over as if it were riveted to a junkyard dog on the run. All of us were sure this was a big redfish and after a 10-minute battle, we weighed in a 16-pound spottail. After some quick pictures, Nate breathed the fish and after it appeared revived, released it back into the lagoon.

I quickly baited up with another pinfish and had another strike within 2 minutes. The resulting surface thrashes clued us I had a seatrout. After a gentle minute-long battle, we posed a 3-pound fish for pictures and then released it. My next cast resulted in the catch and release of a fine redfish of about 9 pounds.

After we caught a few more reds this way, I was sure the trip was a success right off the bat in terms of releases and pictures taken, so I asked Nate to take us on top of some shallow flats for some sight casting. Since the tide was still low, Nate did succeed in taking us for some "kill-time" fishing for tarpon. In the next two hours we cast to over a hundred rolling fish with perhaps a few light strikes on fly and plug tackle fished with bucktails.

By then it was 10 a.m. and the water depth was just right for poling, as was the rising amount of overhead light. Nate ran his skiff a couple miles to a flat that was as still as a pane of glass. As he tilted the engine and poled into the shallows, he was concerned that the fish might be skittish in the super calm conditions. After we'd poled about a hundred yards, I heard a huge explosion aloft that startled me backwards. When I heard Ken say, "that must be it", I needed a couple of befuddled moments to realize that I'd forgotten about the Space Shuttle and that what I heard was a sonic boom.

Nate yelled, "There it is" and pointed into the sky with his pushpole. I must confess that I never saw a manned aircraft moving with such speed and banking ability. After it disappeared in the southern sky towards Cape Canaveral, I felt honored and humbled. Though I felt that my day and this trip were complete, Nate encouraged us to fish this flat and a couple others. We did find some redfish and huge seatrout cruising these shallows, but the water clarity and calmness were so stark, the fish were understandably ultra-cautious.

Before we went in, Nate stopped on a flat only a mile from the ramp. The water was more turbid here and veritably filled with boils and swirls. We caught a few more redfish and then I saw a trout easily 10 pounds barely 6 feet from the boat. Though I tried a presentation to this spotted giant, it had clearly seen us already. It slowly swam into a deep basin and disappeared.

As I reeled in, I told Nate that a monster like this would bring me back to fish with him in this wonderfully fertile waters.

Contact Data

Captain Nathaniel Lemmon
Web Site: www.floridasightfishing.com
Phone: 386-212-4931
E-Mail: floridasightfishing@cfl.rr.com

See all the photos from the outing in Jan Maizler's Photo Gallery.