Fishing Report for Pine Island Sound to Sarasota Bay, Florida

Capt. Butch Rickey
July 4, 2004
Pine Island Sound - Saltwater Fishing Report

REPORT FOR THE WEEK ENDING 7/3/04 by Capt. Butch Rickey

It was a week of great fun, and great frustration; frustration with boat problems and fish that refused to eat. All in all, though, it was a good week.

Monday and Tuesday it was Alan and Carmen Hodgson and their friends Tom and Nancy Callinan, and Joe and Denise. We had fished several day in late July last year, with my cousin Capt. Sean Middleton as the second boat. We fished the guys against the gals, and I was fortunate enough to get the gals, and we had a blast. Of course the gals outfished the guys handily on both days. The girls decided last year they wanted to keep things as they were for this year, and that was great with me.

Monday and Tuesday fishing were as different as night and day. Bait became tough this week, with nothing but tiny shiners and small pinfish everywhere we went. We all headed out to the Stickbeach, and to my surprise there were only a couple other boats all morning. We had a pretty good bite, but the best part was that there were some real quality fish in an eating mood. Denise, who was not part of the all girl crew last year, struck first blood with a beautiful snook of 8 pounds. There were lots of nice snook in the 5 pound range, as well as 4 or 5 big mackerel, a couple of very nice mangrove snappers, and half dozen nice speckled trout, nearly all of which Nancy caught. All the girls caught plenty of snook, and it looked as if the guys would take big fish of the day with a beautiful 34 inch snook. But, late in the morning Carmen hooked what I knew would be a beast on one of the little Stella 2500 rigs. It took off for parts unknown. It had hit a large pinfish laying off the back of the boat, parallel to the beach, and had made the fatal mistake of turning toward the Gulf, instead of the sticks. I knew Carmen had a chance to land the big fish, but we didn't realize how big she was. As Carmen followed my coaching and brought the big snook closer to the boat, we knew we had big fish in the bag if we could just land it. And we did; all 35.5 inches and 13 pounds of her.

The girls had defended their honor against the men, once again. They had handily caught the most fish, most species, and largest fish. We'd all had a ball, and had more fun talking trash over a great lunch at the Waterfront Restaurant.

On the last leg of the journey home I went to switch fuel tanks on the Talon, and the cable handle pulled out in my hand! Fortunately, it happened as the transition to the full tank was complete. While cleaning fish at the Sugar Shack, my long time friend Danny Fowler, now of Fowler Marine, showed up, and I showed him the problem. He said he would try to order a cable, but we later found out that it was something I would have to get from Talon.

No problem, I thought. I would simply use the Maverick for the Tuesday trip. But, once back at my boatyard, I found the batteries once again dead. Oddly enough, I couldn't get my charger to show charge when hooked up, and wasn't sure whether the power pedestal was down, or the charger was broken. I messed around with it for more than an hour until a storm blew in, and finally borrowed another charger from my friend Capt. Rey Rodriguez. Once back at the house, it indicated it was charging just fine, and I thought the problem had been my charger.

Next morning the charger showed fully charged batteries, but my gut told me differently. I just wasn't convinced it was all that easy. I got the Maverick fueled, loaded, and ready for our early departure at 6 AM, and when I reached the Sugar Shack to get ice, I decided to hook up water to the Yamaha and make sure I really had plenty of battery before I put the boat into the water. I really wasn't all that surprised when I turned the key and heard a faint click from the engine. That was it. There was no power. It was 5:25, dark, and there was no time or light for troubleshooting.

I blasted back to the boatyard and grabbed the Talon, transferred everything from the Maverick, and was on my way. I didn't think I could possibly get to the ramp before the girls, but somehow I did. I knew that I would have to throttle back and run easy to conserve gas, or make sure I got to a fuel dock on the water if I got too low.

Tuesday couldn't have been more different! Bait was double-tough, and so was the fishing. Sean and the boys decided to chase tarpon first. The girls and I decided to go for more sure snook/trout/mackerel action on the beach. Problem was, the fish on the beach were shut down. I think we saw two, maybe three fish caught, and there were boats from one end of the sticks to the other. You could practically walk from boat to boat. We probably stay longer than we should have, but I know everyone was convinced the fish would turn on at any moment. They didn't.

We talked to the guys, and they had abandoned their pursuit of tarpon early on, as they had seen no fish. They had switched their attention to reds and snook, and when we first talked to them they had caught half dozen small reds. We were fishless at that point. We made the decision to go inside and try for redfish on the flats. We had wasted a lot of time on the beach, and catching up to the boys on this day would be tough, if not impossible.

Our first fish was a 20 red. Patience gave us a nice 26 inch red at the same spot, but that was it. At the second stop very nearly at the end of our endurance of heat and limit of patience, Nancy hooked a beautiful bull red and landed it just as the boys were approaching us on their trolling motor. The big red was 32 inches and 12 pounds, and that and the 26 inch red gave us biggest fish of the day, but the boys finished with 7 or 8 small reds.

Once again we recounted the fun and frustrations of such a different day at the Waterfront. By the time we arrived back at the ramp, I realized I had save about a quarter tank of fuel by throttling back and running at 4,000 RPM, or less. At the Sugar Shack Alan informed me that he and Carmen would not be able to fish on Wednesday as planned, as some kind of fire had erupted at work that he had to spend the day putting out. I was, of course, disappointed that we wouldn't get a chance to fish together as we had last year on the last day, but knew full well I could use the day to deal with two broken boats.

So, Wednesday morning the Maverick was first to go to see Danny. It only took Danny about five minutes to find that the main power cable off the battery was severed, and hanging by a couple of copper strands. Looked to me almost as if it had been deliberately cut. Hum! I left it with Danny, as I wanted him to install a battery on/off switch, and give her a good checkup. That afternoon, I brought the Talon in for some minor repairs/modifications, and took the Maverick home. Danny replaced the whole fuel switch apparatus on the Talon with a ball-cock assembly mounted on the water separator filter where it was easy to get at. I also had him hardwire the trolling motor and eliminate the very troublesome plug that seems to need constant attention, and install a circuit breaker that also doubles as a switch.

Danny Fowler is one of the nicest, most conscientious young men I have ever met. He was the main rigger at Smith Marine for a number of years, and kept the old BarHopp'R fleet on the water until Craig Smith managed to alienate many of his customers and employees. Danny went out on his own, thank goodness. He is very good at what he does. After all, he had a very good teacher in Craig Smith. If you live within driving distance of Ft. Myers, I highly recommend you give Danny at try, if you haven't already. He's a great guy, and does great work. You can reach him at 939-0300.

As tough as Tuesday had been, I couldn't imagine that Thursday would be even tougher for my old friend Dr. John Hitt. We let his dock at 6 AM, and stopped at Shell Island to see if we could catch a ladyfish or two. There weren't any fish, and shortly after beginning John had a monster tangle in his line, which wound up being broken off when his lure grabbed hold of something on the bottom.

We moved on to Picnic Island for bait, and the first thing that happened was the handle of the bucket I had just mixed a load of chum in detached itself, and the chum went all over the floor of the Coastline. It seemed to set the tone, and be a harbinger of things to come. We managed no large shiners. Everything was tiny. We didn't even catch any large, filletable pinfish.

For the rest of the day we went from place to place seeing no sign of life other than hardhead catfish. We caught 4. We couldn't get a redfish or a snook to eat. Finally, in a desperate attempt to put something in the boat we decided to try to catch trout. Even the trout weren't interested in eating. We only managed two; one keeper and one small. It was the worst day John and I ever had on the water, and very possibly the worst day I've had as a guide, at least in very many years. John is not only a great fishing partner, but understands that these things sometimes can't be avoided. Thank goodness for friends like John.

After Thursday escapade, I was dreading my trip with Bruce Heichelbeck, of Crestwood, Kentucky, and his friend Tony, who hail from London. I feared another day like Thursday. I told the guys at the ramp that morning how miserable the fishing had been for most of the week, but they were understanding, optimistic, and still ready to go.

We made stops at Picnic Island and Chino Island, and got the usual load of small pinfish and tiny shiners. We managed 3 large whitebaits! We were off to the first stop. We actually managed to catch 2 snook and a redfish there, and missed several hits. After a long spell with no activity, we moved on to the next stop, where we fished both live and cut pinfish. Much to my relief we managed 5 redfish there, including a couple of real nice fish. At the next stop we missed several good strikes, and managed to boat another red of around 20 inches. The last couple of stops netted us only 1 more redfish, for a total of 8 on the day.

I don't know when I've been so glad to see 8 redfish and a couple of snook! Bruce and Tony assured me they'd had a great time, and that a slow day on the water still beat a great day at the office. It was good to see Bruce, again. We last fished together over 3 years ago, and this was his first outing in the Talon. He and Tony were amazed at the ride and room, and what a great platform it is.

Well, I'm guessing that the snook have spawned on this full moon, and are rowed out. Seems that once the snook do that each summer, the fishing really goes sour for the rest of the summer. If our Blind Pass was open to boat traffic, it would be a simple matter to get to the fish and back to the Sound without investing such a large chunk of time and gasoline when there is no bite. Word is, next summer will be different as work to open the pass again is scheduled to begin in November.

REPORT FOR THE WEEK ENDING 6/26/04 by Capt. Butch Rickey

It was an unusual week for me in several respects. First, it was a rare week where all of my customers were new ones. Second, I was under Dr. Jim Kolodziej's orders to stay out of the Gulf and off the beaches until my back was completely healed. The problem with that is that the tides this week were just horrible for inshore fishing, and I knew each day before climbing out of bed, it would be a challenge to put fish in the boat! I just didn't know how challenging it would be.

First up was John Backer, over from Ft. Lauderdale. John was a sort of last minute booking, and I warned him that the reason I had the day open was that the tide was so lousy. It didn't slow him down, and we were at Picnic Island catching bait before the sun was up.

At the first stop we got a taste of how tough it would be. The hole gave us one snook and one speckled trout. It also established the trend for the week; not only were the fish not eating, the snook were hitting the baits and killing or injuring them, but not eating. It's one of the most frustrating things in fishing, because 99% of the time, the angler can't even feel it happen, even with all the hi-tech gear we use today.

We moved on to several other spots with nothing more than hit to kill strikes going on. I was getting antsy, with only two fish in the boat. Finally, I decided to change strategy and fish some deeper pockets that I would normally be fishing in fall or spring. It was the charm. We had a descent bite for a long enough time to put some fish into the boat. That spot gave us 8 nice snook before it slowed down, and John missed several, as well.

I wanted to put some redfish into the boat, so we spent the short amount of remaining time to try to chum them up. We had three takes, but failed to hook any of them. We didn't miss the two catfish that bit our cut bait, however.

It was a tough day, but a good day, and we had a great time. I look forward to fishing with John, again.

Tuesday, my guests were Mike Canfield, and his friend John, of Rutland, Mass. I had told Mike back in February when he booked, but I reassured he and John that the catching would be tough. We began with bait at Picnic Island, and at least that came pretty easily.

Everywhere we went the fish were in the same mode as the day before; hit to kill, not to eat. In spite of that the boys managed to catch a few nice snook, and lost some even nicer ones. John struck first blood at our first stop with a nice snook. Mike had one snook on at our last stop that ran and jumped and gave him a good look before it got away. It was probably a good 12 pounds. Mike and John were not only a lot of fun, but were totally into the fishing, and having a great time, even though they watched some nice fish swim away.

Wednesday morning I was on the water long before sun-up. My customers were Lee Hennigan, and his friend Brent Case, of Flower Mound, Texas. They were staying up on the north end of North Captiva, and I had to try to catch bait alone, and be on the way to pick them up by 7 AM. I headed straight to Picnic Island, where I was soon joined by my cousin Capt. Sean Middleton. We both got bait OK, but it took a bit longer than usual. I was on my way to Lee shortly after seven.

I had hopes of being able to sneak out on a nice flat beach and fish the Sticks, but Sean called me about an hour later and told me it was rough as hell. Probably kicked up by overnight storms that had moved offshore in the early morning hours. So. we were stuck fishing inside with an awful tide, and I knew it would be more of the same struggle.

We went from place to place getting the same reception from the snook I'd gotten all week; hit and run, pop and drop, kill strikes, whatever you want to call it, it's all the same. They ain't eatin'! Lee and Brent managed to get 5 snook, 1 trout, and 1 catfish to the boat. I guess we can call that combo a "Trash Can Slam!". As does everyone, they missed their share, as well. Redfish have been non-existent. The few that I have found have refused to eat.

Lee and Brent were great guys, and good fishermen, and took it all in stride. In spite of another slow bite, we all had a great time.

The tide for Thursday was a very slow outgoing for most of the morning hours. After studying the tide chart for a while I determined that on such a slow outgoing tide the best place to begin would be Redfish Pass along the Wall. I hate pass fishing; getting in line with lots of other boats and drifting along the Wall, competing with the shore anglers, etc. Not my idea of a good time. Yes, there are some big fish lurking along the rocks there, but...... This seemed like the perfect day to ignore what I like and go for the obvious.

I met Steve O'dell, and his friend John, of Leesburg, Florida, and explained the situation to them. They were game for whatever I wanted to do. We first headed to Picnic Island again for bait, but I had a hell of a time. The water had cleared drastically overnight, probably because of the lack of rain we've been experiencing, and it seemed that the bait could see my smaller than usual net coming, and run out from under it. Yes, in an effort to be kind to my back I've been throwing an 8 foot net, which is much lighter. Well, anyway, I couldn't catch a shiner to save my life, even though I could see them.

So, I moved on to Chino Island, where to my surprise the water was somewhat murky. I anchored in the vicinity of several other boats that were already there chumming. I didn't see any bait being caught, and became concerned. But, on my first throw I had a pretty good strike on shiners, and knew the bait was there in good numbers. After a couple more good strikes we were off. I didn't want to waste a lot of time catching bait that nothing was going to eat in the first place.

We headed straight to Redfish Pass with out bait. To my surprise there weren't but a couple of other boats fishing the Wall. I rigged one rod with a large shiner without weight, and another with a large splitshot to keep the bait down, and a large pinfish. I had Steve and John pitching the baits up near the rocks as we drifted along on the falling tide with me trying to hold position with the trolling motor.

We made half dozen passes on the tide, and had about half dozen strikes, mostly on the pinfish. Steve put one snook in the boat. It was not enough action to keep me interested in this kind of fishing, and Steve soon fessed up that it wasn't his kind of fishing, either. We moved on to the shallows.

Eventually, we wound up on the east side of the Sound. All week, I had been trying to fish some of the deeper spots that would have at least a little water moving on the slow tides. I figured that with no rain to drop the water temperature on the flats each afternoon as it normally does, the fish would be looking for water that was a little deeper, and therefore a little cooler.

We kept at it and eventually found 4 more snook and 3 trout, but still had nearly every bait tossed killed, and a few misses, too. Steve and John were great, and didn't mind the slow action, and assured me at the end of the day that they had had a great time.

Friday belonged to Neil Manausa, his son Stephen, of Ashburn, Virginia, and his brother-in-law Fred, from the Dallas/Fort Worth area of Texas. Neil had been looking forward to this trip for a long time, and this was the last day of his vacation. I desperately wanted this to be a great day, but I knew it was not to be. It just wasn't in the tidal cards. In fact, it wound up being the toughest day of the week, if you can imagine that!

We headed straight to Chino Island for bait, and got plenty without much trouble. The water was at about 1.7 ft. by the time we were done catching bait, and I thought we might have a shot at some fish while the water was up and just beginning to move, but that proved not to be the case. We got kill strikes everywhere we went, but had one hell of a time getting anything with scales on it into the boat. At one spot we managed three nice speckled trout and a big mangrove snapper. At another spot, we finally got a snook in the boat, and it was young Steve that caught it. Neil managed four hardhead catfish, giving them the Trash Can Slam. They even had some baits that were ripped to shreds by who knows what. Again, Neil, Steve, and Fred were very understanding of the situation, and in spite of the slow going, we had a great time until the heat just overcame all of us.

The common theme this week was that every day was a very tough day. Yet, the common theme was also that to a man, everyone had a great time. When the catching is this tough, and was further handicapped by my back problem, I spent a lot of time apologizing to my customers. But, at the end of each day each assured me that they had a wonderful time, and some even asked me to make sure I mentioned that in this fishing report. I guess there's a lesson to be learned during the tough times; that just being on the water, enjoying all the wonders that nature has to offer, enjoying the anticipation and experience, enjoying the company and camaraderie of good friends, and learning new techniques.

The tides next week are much improved over this week. We don't get real strong tides during the summer, but we get nice high tides, and these are about as good as they get. If we can get into our normal afternoon thunderstorm pattern with rain reaching the Sound to cool the water, I believe we'll see some good fishing happening on the inside. Without that, the water will remain as hot as it usually is in August, and it will be tough regardless of the tides. We'll see soon enough.

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