Fishing Report for Pine Island Sound to Sarasota Bay, Florida

Capt. Butch Rickey
April 16, 2005
Pine Island Sound - Saltwater Fishing Report

REPORT FOR THE WEEK ENDING 4/16/05 by Capt. Butch Rickey

The first day of the week was just a great day. I met John Marconnit, and his father-in-law, Gib, whom I hadn't seen in some five years, at eight o'clock at the Punta Rassa Ramp. It was a beautiful morning, and it gave promise of a beautiful day.

Once we had everything stowed, we headed out under the causeway, and toward Picnic Island to catch bait. There were still a few boats there. We took up position and began chumming. The tide was racing out, and the chum was moving pretty quickly, but with John chumming, we had all the bait we needed in five or six throw. Time to fish!

We headed up into the Sound to one of my favorite trout holes. John had told me he would like to keep enough fish to feed the family on this night, so trout was the place to begin, allowing the boys to get used to the equipment and the circle hooks, and to put some trout into the well. We were there almost a full hour before the tide began to move, but we still had enough trout action to keep the boys occupied, and to put four or five nice keeper trout into the well.

Once the water began to come in in earnest, we moved to the first snook hole. Virtually every bait we pitched into the strike zone was smacked and scaled, but the boys couldn't feel it happen. The snook were in their "kill strike" mode, and even with the fancy rods and Power Pro line, it's near impossible to feel them kill the bait and leave it. Very frustrating!

We moved on. We settled down on a hole that had given me great action the week before, and my plan was to fish that hole, and then hop to a nearby hole that had given me some very nice snook the previous week, as well. But, my good friend Capt. Rey Rodriguez was behind me, and settled on that hole. I'm sure they caught some fish. John and Gib caught several snook and a redfish, and completed the Slam for the boat. I made several adjustments with the boat as the wind continued to swing toward the south. But, after a few fish, the bite seemed over, and we moved on.

I decided to head across the Sound to see if we could find a redfish school, or at least a bite. I did some running and looking, but the water was too deep and just not suitable for sighting redfish schools. I settled down on a spot that has produced fish for me in the short time I've been fishing the area since hurricane Charley. Sure 'nough, we soon had a nice red in the boat, followed by some trout, and a snook, but we had a cormorant that was just driving us nuts trying, successfully at times, to eat our baits! That bird was making me crazy and ruining the fishing, and we finally opted to move on just because of him!!

At the next stop John hit a beautiful snook that has us really excited. It's amazing what a difference the circle hooks make to snook fishing with light tackle. John wrestled a beautiful 31 inch, 9 pound snook to the boat on the Stella 2500/St. Croix Legend combination, and there were high-fives all round! Then came the dilemma! John and I both wanted to see that female snook go back to breed, and fight another day. But, John told me that his wife dearly loved snook, and they hadn't had snook to eat in five years, since the last time we fished together. So, I told John that I would not deny him what the State of Florida dictated he could have; a beautiful snook. John reluctantly put the big snook into the Talon's aquarium.

We caught a few more snook, and another redfish, but I wasn't satisfied with the level of action. We moved on. We fished several more spots that all produced two or three fish each, and with the slowing of the tide at around three o'clock, we called it a day. It had been a wonderful day, indeed, with two great guys. Gib, a young 77 was just a riot, and John and I had a blast teasing and having fun back and forth all day. We finished the day with a dozen snook, two redfish, a bunch of trout, and several catfish on our cut baits. We hadn't pounded the fish, but we'd caught plenty for the Marconnit gang to enjoy for dinner, gotten multiple Slams, and had a great time. I hated to see the day end!

Tuesday belonged to my old friend John Sittzenstatter, his son-in-law Chuck, and John's twelve year old son, Connor. It was the first time I to meet Connor. John and Chuck are easy going guys, and we always have fun together.

It was a pretty breezy day by the time we left the dock at 8:00 AM, and would be a good 20 out of the south/southwest. We headed to Picnic Island for bait, where there were still some other boats chumming and throwing. I figured that meant bait was tough. I got the chumming started, then turned the chore over to Connor. But, the bait wasn't coming, and John decided to take over. We went through a whole bucket of my chum, and I threw about ten times, but the last two or three throws were the charm, and we really loaded up. We were ready to fish.

Because of the wind direction, I decided to fish the Sanibel side, just to try to stay out of the worst of the wind. The half-high low tide and wind already had the water up pretty high. The first stop gave us some snook action, and Connor got the first one at just under 26 inches. He did a pretty good job of following my coaching, and eventually got the hang of "pumping and reeling". But, John told me that he was nervous about dropping one of my very expensive Stella rigs overboard. I teased Con that it would be years of allowance to pay for one of those reels once it was ruined in the salt water. We had lots of hits and lots of misses, and lots of kill strikes, but the action wasn't as good as I'd hoped, and we moved on.

I decided to try to chum a flat for redfish, since the snook were up to their usual tricks, and the birds were also driving us crazy. We staked out a productive flat and I went to work, but still the birds had other ideas. They were just awful. Not only did they steal most of my chum, but they actually dove down in the shallow water and kept steeling my live and cut baits. Of course, once they pick it up and fly with it, they eventually drop it, and it's usually across two or three other lines, creating a mess. We were all completely frustrated, and only managed to catch a couple of snook. And, don't you know that somewhere during an episode where there was a snook on, and between the fish and birds we had three lines tangled, Con dropped one of my Stella rigs into the saltwater. I have to give John credit, he dove on that rod like a football player making a leg tackle, and got it before it had been in the water for more than a few seconds. Con was bummed. I think he was worried about all that allowance I'd mentioned earlier. We moved on, and decided to turn our attention back to snook since chumming was impossible.

We managed a few more snook at the next couple of stops, but only had one redfish in the tank. Chuck had told me he had eight fish lovers back at the house all expecting a fish dinner. So, I decided a big move was in order just to try to escape the birds. I also knew that if I fished a mangrove shoreline, the birds wouldn't be nearly the problem they are out in the open. So, to the east side we went. I had a spot in mind where I often Slam, fishing the mangroves. In the past few weeks my customers had caught snook, nice reds, and some beautiful Gator trout.

Once we were set up, I began chumming the shoreline in an effort to get the reds out from under the bushes to see what was going on. The redfish didn't want to play, but some snook and big, beautiful trout, did. The boys were just blown away by the size of the trout, and we were taking care of the meat portion of the trip. It wasn't long before we had a double limit of big trout, with four at 22 to 23 inches, and 5 pounds. But, the reds just wouldn't come out and play, so once it slowed down there, we moved on north to another favorite redfish area of mine.

The wind wasn't favorable to fish the spot, but the boys made it work. Con was sitting out, probably still trying to figure out when he might once again see an allowance, and John had been having a tough day. He wasn't getting many hits, and he missed most of the ones he did get. Hope he doesn't mind me telling on him. Of course, Chuck had had a hot rod all morning, and it wasn't over yet. Chuck popped a couple of nice reds, and a snook or two, as John only managed a snook or two, as I recall.

It was pushing three o'clock as the tide came to a halt, and it was obvious that the bite was over. We had a tank full of fish to clean and headed for home. It hadn't been a stellar day, but it had sure been fun teasing John and Con, and we'd finished the day with 8 or 9 snook, 3 nice redfish, and a bunch of big trout. And, our mission of feeding the hungry masses back at the house had been accomplished.

I went to bed Tuesday night knowing there was yet another late season cold front on our doorstep. It appeared that it would be through our area before sun up. But, when I got up Wednesday morning for my first trip with Matt Callcaterra, the radar told me different. And, the wind was howling out of the southwest at a good 20 to 25 on the water. I went ahead with my trip preparations, and put the Talon in the water. The guides who were out and had already been out for bait were complaining of nasty water and tough bait. I figured it would be raining by ten o'clock. Matt finally showed up, and the first thing I asked him was if he could possible fish Friday. I had been saving the day so that I could go to Lakeland and visit with my best friend, Jim McDaniel, who was down working the FAA booth at the airshow. But, the choice was easy from my customer's standpoint; reschedule and fish Friday. Fortunately, Matt was able to reschedule, and we chatted for a few minutes, and then parted. It was the right call.

Thursday morning the front was still hanging over us, and we had a strong west/northwest wind. It would be a bouncy day for my old friends Alan Kingston and John Bond, or Orlando. This time, they brought along Alan's brother Jack, from Atlanta. It quickly became obvious that Jack was a riot, and as if Alan and John weren't enough fun, this would be a day full of laughs, if nothing else.

Talk at the dock was that bait was great up at Chino Island. Against my better judgment, I decided to go and check it out, foregoing the easy bait at Picnic Island. Wrong! Everyone there was struggling trying to find any bait at all. We did, as well, until I moved shallower, and to the east side of the bar. It took a lot of chum, but we finally got the bait in to us, and loaded up. Bait was much easier at Picnic, so I wouldn't do this again for a while.

We were ready to fish, and headed north into the Sound. The wind was howling across the Sound, and it was capped up pretty badly, so I decided to stay on the east side. The wind had the tide up ahead of schedule, which opened up some possibilities I didn't expect right off the bat. The first stop was a great one for John. Not long after we got there, we all witnessed a massive explosion in the water right in front of us. I alerted them to be ready, as a big snook had just blown one of their baits to kingdom come, but we didn't know which one, yet. I'd no more than uttered the words when John nearly had the rod snatched out of his hand as the big snook took off for parts unknown.

Alan and Jack quickly cleared their lines, and John was free to duke it out with the snook. I kept urging him to "get busy", and pump and reel as fast as he could to keep the snook's head turned, and keep her coming to the boat. Although the circle hooks I now use almost always hook the snook right in the corner of the mouth, instead of down inside the mouth, there's still the rare time when the snook inhales the hook and the leader is then rubbing on the file-like inner lips. 40 pound leader won't last long under the pull of a big snook, as so many snookers can tell you.

Well, the hook worked to perfection and all the knots held, and John got his fish to the boat. She was invited to dine that evening with the Kingston Trio! The guys talked for the rest of the day about the spectacular hit. It was a textbook snook catch from start to finish. We caught a few other smaller fish there, and then moved on.

The next spot gave us a few more fish, but not the good bite that I had been experiencing there. On to the next spot. It was a small key that I hadn't fished in some time. It can be very good, but gets a lot of pressure. Seems there's always boats around it, but I don't know how much catching actually goes on most of the time.

Well, we had action from the first cast, and Alan had the hot rod, followed by John. But, John had his big snook, and was happy as a clam. Poor Jack was getting smacked, but couldn't overcome his bass fishing habit of trying to set the hook right away. He proved over and over that it just won't work with circle hooks. I'm not sure how many snook we caught, but we had great action for a hour, or so.

Once that slowed, I decided to go ahead and cross the Sound. I wanted to catch some of the redfish I knew were there. The boys were pretty amazed at how the Talon seemed to skip across the rough stuff, and observed that if they'd been in Alan's Action Craft, they would have been beaten and wet. The first thing that happened upon our arrival was some big, fat slob in a blue boat of unknown manufacture drove right across our bow and the area I had planned to fish. He acted like we didn't exist! I had a hard time resisting the urge to draw my Ruger and teach him some manners. We should be allowed to purchase a tag that would permit the harvesting of idiots like that, just as we do to harvest a tarpon. The state of Florida could surely increase the wealth in it's treasury, as I would pay three or four hundred bucks for such a tag. Oh, well! Wishful thinking! But, in a perfect world.........

I tried to do the all important chumming routine, but as they had all week, the birds just would not allow it. They not only stole every chum bait, but even picked our baits up off the bottom!! It's frustrating beyond my ability to express it. It became obvious that we would not be able to fish this way. Jack did finally figure out how to set the hook and got his first snook of the day before we moved on.

At the last stop of the day we were again trying to chum redfish. But, I swear the birds followed us as they were right there to make things impossible. We did get on a big speckled trout bite, though and put some very nice fish in the well to round out the boys' dinner plans for the families.

It had been a tough, but great day. We'd caught plenty of snook, plenty of trout, plenty of laughs, plenty of birds, and John got his big fish. We were happy campers. I told the boys that I would be happy to help them catch bait the next day if they wanted to join me and my customer on the bait flats. They were happy to do so, as they have a hard time catching bait.

Friday morning was downright cold. We were in the mid 50's with a northeast wind howling! The worst part was that we had another one of those stinking fifteen hour, slow walking, slow talking tides that are the curse on our fishing. That coupled with a strong northeast wind was a certain kiss of death on the fishing. While I waited on my customer Matt Calcaterra, the guides that came and went all acknowledged the laws of nature that surely spelled a very tough day of fishing. No one was happy about having to take their customers fishing on this day.

I, too, was very pensive about the prospects for the day. There's no substitute for years of experience, and years of watching nature at work. I knew it would be tough. I had called my friends Alan and Jack Kingston, and John Bond Thursday night, and told them that I had decided to fish the early part of the tide instead of the afternoon part, as I had originally planned. They would have to get up early to join me. They were happy to oblige. When I got to the ramp, they were already there, with Alan's Action Craft in the water. As the clock struck 8:00 AM, and Matt hadn't shown, the boys decided they would head out to Picnic Island and get a head start on the bait.

A few minutes later Matt arrived. I'd gotten very good vibes from him when I met him on Wednesday morning, and instinctively knew that I'd like him very much. I explained to him that the tide sucked, the weather sucked, and that if we had braved the very nasty weather of Wednesday, we likely would have killed 'em. But, we agreed that we'd made the right call. Matt had fished with one of our newest guides on Monday, and had caught a few fish, but apparently hadn't been too impressed. Knowing that, I felt extra pressure to really show him a great day of fishing, although I knew it would be next to impossible to pull off.

We headed to Picnic Island to find the Kingston Trio! They were way too deep, and I told them so. Matt and I anchored in about four feet of water and began our preparations and chumming. I had promised Alan and Crew that I would help them with bait, so I had to catch bait for two boats, and five anglers pretty quickly. Fortunately, with Matt's precise chumming, I loaded the Talon's baitwell to the point of overflow in about six throws of my 8 ft. net. Once we were loaded up, we circled back around to Alan's boat, and offloaded a half dozen scoops of shiners. With promises kept and everyone baited up, Matt and I were off.

My first stop was once of my favorite snook stops, but is one that is often good for trout and redfish, as well. It's a place that magnifies current flow, which means it's a great place to be when the tide really sucks!! It's the kind of spot that will almost always give up some fish, no matter what, and that was the kind of spot we needed on this day!

Well, as luck would have it we were greeted with a hot trout bite for a while. Matt noted that he caught three fish on his first three casts, and it had taken him three hours to catch the first fish on Monday. Matt said he wanted to keep enough fish to feed his family of four. I urged that we do it with trout while the fish were biting, as we knew not what the rest of the day would bring. We wound up catching somewhere between eight and a dozen nice trout, with a short flounder, and one snook thrown in for good measure. We had plenty of baits scaled by the persnickety snook, but only boated the one.

We moved on! On up into the Sound we fished several mangrove keys, getting the same results everywhere. The snook would mouth the shiners, knock the scales off and leave their tale-tale signature, but not eat!!! How frustrating! But, we didn't give up. We kept at it. Moving and fishing. And, Matt seemed to be enjoying the tackle, the learning, and the scenery, even though we were not catching for a while. At one spot, where I've been catching (and loosing) some very nice snook, I decided to take him in on the MinnKota and let him try to see some of the fish that were there. The water in the hole we were fishing was deeper and darker, with no visibility, but just around the corner it was shallower and clearer, and Matt was treated to the sight of several huge snook laid up along the bank. They were just sunning, and not the least bit interested in eating. We threw baits at one big female, but I explained that you cannot catch a snook that you can see. It's next to impossible. Don't believe me? Ever hear of someone sightfishing snook like they do bonefish, permit, or redfish?

We moved on to another spot pretty far north that had given the Kingston Trio some pretty good snook action for some time the day before. The wind direction was very different, now, and I didn't know if I could get the baits to where the fish were, or if they'd eat. After all, they hadn't eaten anywhere else! We fished our way down the shoreline, and Matt got to see another herd of nice snook laid up around some of the hurricane Charlie debris.

Finally, we got the spot where I had scored the day before. I wanted to stay way off the spot in the gin clear water so that we didn't alert the fish to our presence. So, I did the long casting. With the strong 25 knot wind at our backs, I was able to toss a good sized shiner a good 130 to 140 feet. I noticed that the wind, not the tide, was blowing water around the end of the key, having the same effect as a moving tide. I figured the fish might just eat, and from the first cast they did exactly that. We were on snook. They were only averaging there to four pounds, but they were fun on the light St. Croix Legend Tournament rods, and Matt was having a ball. He got to see first-hand how well the circle hooks work on a rig sitting in a rod holders. At least half the fish we caught at the baits after a rod was put in the holder. Most of them that ate, were hooked, and stayed hooked. Something that would never have happened if those rigs had been "J" hooks!

Once the bite slowed down we began prepping the Talon for the trip home. It was getting late, and Matt's girls were wanting Daddy home. I dumped a ton of left over bait, and within a couple of minutes Matt was treated to the sight of half a dozen or more big snook explosions on top of the water as some much bigger snook than we had caught, came out to have dinner. It was really cool, as many times as I've made it happen.

With the wind at our backs most of the way home, the ride wasn't bad at all. The only rough stuff was a we neared the causeway where the wind was running across the tide. But, the Talon eats of that stuff unless it's really nasty, and Matt observed that it was like riding in a water born Porsche!

It turned out to be a pretty good day, considering the conditions, and many others I talked to hadn't faired as well. We got lucky. Matt was also a first for me. In all my years of guiding he was the first mortician I've ever guided. And, Matt was one of the nicest people I've met in a long while. So, if you have any preconceived notions about morticians, let 'em go. Somebody has to do it!

Until next week, tight lines!

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