Fishing Report for Pine Island Sound to Sarasota Bay, Florida

Capt. Butch Rickey
April 24, 2005
Pine Island Sound - Saltwater Fishing Report

REPORT FOR THE WEEK ENDING 4/23/05 by Capt. Butch Rickey

The week certainly began on a great note with my old friend Kevin Bressman, over from Orlando for a birthday trip with his dad, Joe, who was down visiting from Oklahoma. I hadn't seen Kevin in some four years, and had not met Joe, before. It's always great to get together with folks you haven't seen in a while.

I was up very early Monday morning. Just couldn't sleep. So, I was at the ramp by about 5:40. I was shocked when Kevin and Joe showed up before 6 AM, when our start time was 6:30. They had planned on breakfast along the way, but couldn't find anything open!

Around 6:20 we had enough light to run by, and loaded up. As Joe was about to make his step down from the dock to the crossbar, I began telling him to be careful because the boards are usually slick from being submerged on each tide. I had no more than gotten the words out of my mouth, when Joe stepped down, and completely missed the board, and went down into the cockpit of the Talon very hard! It was a good 6 to 7 ft. fall, and it happened so quickly he didn't have a chance to try to grab anything. It scared Kevin and me to death. I nearly messed my pants, and had visions of Joe with broken ribs, or worse. But, Joe is a tough ole guy, and insisted to Kevin and me that he was just fine. Once we got our collective composures, we headed out.

I went straight to Picnic Island for bait, and with Kevin chumming, it didn't take very long to load up. We could have been gone in three throws, but I wanted to put enough bait in the well so that I couldn't see the bottom.

As we ran I suggested to Kevin and Joe that we begin with trout fishing, both to insure they had their dinner for four, and to let them get used to the gear and the circle hooks. They were e in agreement, and once we were set up on the first hole they were like two kids in a candy store. The were catching mostly keeper sized trout on nearly every cast, and were laughing, teasing each other for screwing up, and having a blast. So was I!

Once the bite slowed we headed to the second spot of the day where I hope we could add snook to the fray. The hole was full of snook that kept killing our baits, but not eating, as well as big ladyfish, and more nice trout. They caught a bunch of fish, and managed one snook.

We moved to another spot nearby that nearly always had plenty of nice trout. and some snook. It was more of the same; plenty of nice trout and a few snook bites. We decided we wanted to chase snook only, so we moved on toward the north.

I headed back to the same spot where I had scored nice snook action on the previous Thursday and Friday. The snook are everywhere, but the snook in this place were willing to eat. The water had gotten much clearer over the weekend, which is pretty, but not a particularly good thing for snook fishing. We fished hard and chummed the fish with live bait, but just couldn't get on to do anything more than blow up a bait. Well, we did miss a couple of good hits, but the were just being persnickety. We moved on, and decided to chase reds, since the snook didn't want to play.

At the next stop I steaked up some of the ladyfish we'd kept, knowing that if they were going to eat anything, they'd eat that! Plus, steaked ladyfish will also catch big trout and snook. I put two rigs out and placed them in the bow rodholders, and then put a live bait under a Cajun float down the middle. Kevin manned the livebait rig and it wasn't long before he had the first action on the livebait. He caught several more very nice trout, and had several very big hits that were almost surely redfish, based on how the fish swirled on the bait. We also had a great battle with a 28 inch snook on one of the ladyfish steaks. Joe did his best to keep it out of the nearby trees, but just couldn't hold her. I took the rod and worked the fish for a few minutes, using every snook trick I know, and eventually dragged her free of the last limbs and finished her off. We were never able to get a hook into a redfish before the tide came to a stop. At 1:00 PM, we headed for home.

It had been a great, fun day full of jokes, laughter, and good company. Along the way, as we skipped over the numbers wakes from passing cruisers, Joe decided that he might have indeed cracked a rib or two. He was feeling the bumps. But, he was one hell of a good sport, and never complained all day long.

We had the last laugh, and perhaps the best laugh of the day while I was cleaning the snook at Shack Baits, across the street from the ramp. We always save the snook carcasses for the FWC biologists to perform necropsies on. Tracy brought me a big plastic bag just as I was about to begin surgery on the second fillet of the snook when I asked her where she would like me to stick the snook. Of course, I meant, in which freezer did she want me to put it, but she got this funny look on her face, looked at me with knife and snook in hand, and said, "Right where you've got the knife will be fine with me!" Maybe you had to be there to see the humor, but we were all on the floor laughing at her quick comeback. What a way to end the day!

After having Tuesday off to substitute for the upcoming Saturday I'm working, I was back at it again with a brand new customer, Gary Nolf, his daughter Kerra, and her boyfriend, Tyson, of New York. Gary is an avid fisherman back home, for stripers mostly, and I immediately sensed we'd have a great time no matter how the fishing went.

We headed straight to Picnic Island to join the fleet of guides already there chumming. It didn't take long to get the bait chummed in to us, and after several throws, we were on our way to the first stop of the day.

As I customarily do this time of year, I made the first stop for speckled trout. It's a great way to put food on the table for those who want to keep something for dinner, and it's a great way to get everyone familiar with the equipment, and the nuances of using the wonderful circle hook. It takes a long time to break old habits. Sometimes a whole day. But, with some good trout action the process is speeded up a bit.

Even if I never see the Nolfs again, I'll never forget them. You see, I had a first with them. I'm not absolutely sure how it happened, but I think it was because they were reluctant to stay well forward on the bow and give me the room behind them I need to work. Lots of folks are a little reluctant to get right up on the nose of the Talon, at first. I always reassure them that if they fall out, they're more likely to sprain their ankle than they are to drown.!! Well, somehow, as I was baiting hooks, taking off fish, and so forth, I wound up too close to the edge of the front deck, and over I went, wallet, car burglar alarm transmitter, pride, and all. I must have looked like Orca landing after a big jump! I had that flash that you have just as you're about to die, but this was of my wallet and electronics. The water was only about a foot and a half deep, but by the time my big butt hand succumbed to gravity and the soft mud bottom, I was waist deep. In what seemed one sweeping motion I snatched my keys and wallet from my submerged pockets and placed them on the deck of the Talon. I wondered for a split second if I'd be able to get into my van when we returned to the dock. Then, it hit me. My most coveted Reef flip-flops were buried about a foot and a half below the thick, black muck. They were my favorite pair, and had long ago been discontinued. I dug around, trying not to act frantic, and found the right one, but the left one will never be seen, again. It was so far down in the muck I would have had to have a scuba tank to find it. Well, it was worth a good laugh.

We continued to catch trout after trout until I was satisfied that they were all getting the hand of the circle hooks, and ready for something a bit more aggressive. We made a move to a nearby hole that is always full of snook this time of year. Fortunately, it's also full of big trout, flounder, and sometimes redfish, ladyfish, and jacks, which is very nice on those days when the snook don't want to play. And, this was one of those days! The snook didn't want to eat. Oh, they kept thumping our baits and knocking the scales off as only a snook can do, but we only managed to get one in the boat at that stop. Fortunately, we caught plenty more big trout.

But, we were all in agreement that we wanted to try to catch some snook, and moved on. And, although the snook were acting the same way at our next hole, we did have some action, and got the Slam right there. We caught snook, redfish, and trout before it was over. We moved to another spot about a quarter mile away where I've been catching some very nice keeper snook, but we couldn't get anything other than a catfish to eat there.

We headed on north into the Sound and again found some snook and redfish action around Joslyn Island. The snook action was pretty good, and I hooked a big one right at the mangroves. She was strong enough to pull her way back to within a foot or two of the mangroves, at which time I applied the brakes. You see, my philosophy of snook fishing the mangroves is "make 'em break ya!" What I mean is this. You know the snook will cut you off in the barnacle and oyster covered mangrove roots if you let her get you in there. So, knowing that is an absolute, you just apply the brakes by putting pressure on the spool of the reel with your left index finger. It's extremely effective once you get the hang of it. You can turn very big fish on light tackle with this technique, as long as you don't shock the line. Shock the line....break the line! Well, now that we have lines like Power Pro, you can also pull the hook, or straighten the hook!! The hook ripped out of this big snook's mouth!

Alas! It was time for a big change. I decided to cross over to the Sanibel side of the Sound. At what would be the last stop of the day, we were greeted with immediate action. We had more big trout, and several redfish. And, as predictably as the sun setting in the evening, the fish quit biting when the tide quit moving.

We headed home having had a wonderful day of fishing, and having multiple Slams. I was feeling the glow that comes with making new friends, which I admit, may be something peculiar to the guide business. But, it's a real thing, and a great thing, and the reason I love the business so much.

Thursday morning it was my old friends Tom Smith and Jim Brady. I've been fishing with Tom for years, now, and he's a wonderful guy with a quick, dry wit, that sometimes leaves you guessing, but is always a lot of fun to be with. We've had some great days on the water together, and although I don't recall, probably a stinker thrown in there somewhere, as well. The last time I saw Jim was about this time last year, when Tom, Jim, and I got on a big redfish bite and wore ourselves out catching outsized reds.

Of course, we began the day at Picnic Island catching bait. I got things started, and then Tom masterfully chummed those precious little shiners into a frenzy, and we loaded the boat in half dozen quick casts. We had plenty enough ammo for a day of fishing.

Tom told me they wanted enough fish to feed the two of them two meals. So, that meant beginning with trout fishing. The first stop gave us plenty of trout action, and one snook, along with several missed, and lots of kill strikes from the resident snook. They were still up to their old tricks. With the meat portion of the trip over, we agreed to chase snook.

Up into the Sound we went, and at the first stop it was more of the same. Virtually every shiner we tossed came back signed by Mr. Sid Snook. Even wearing my special Snook Brothers' hat didn't make them eat! Man, they'll drive you crazy when they're acting like that. We fished our way down the side of a mangrove island without making a solid connection to a snook. It was time to move on.

At the next stop we did manage a snook or two, but it was mainly more of the same. But, in this place, we had huge snook swimming right by the boat in the gin clear water, literally giving us the snook finger! They just weren't interested in doing anything but taunting us!! After fishing our way around one whole side of that island, seeing lots of snook everywhere we went, we left in frustration.

It was time for a change. A change of vinue, a change of species. It was time to chase redfish. I went across the Sound to North Captiva looking for redfish. I didn't see the first fish! After lots of looking, I moved on.

I headed to a flat that I have fished since I was a kid, and a flat that only my good friend Mark Bess, my cousin Terry Middleton, and I fished for many years, while anglers drove over it on the way to places that seemed more promising. As I arrived, I could see that a mutual friend of mine and Terry, John Objartle, was already there, and was working on finding the fish that customarily show up there every spring. John told me on the phone that he had seen the school of reds, caught one or two, and lost them. He knew he was close.

In the meantime, I pushed several small pods of fish while making my way quietly onto the flat. I decided to stop and see if I could chum them in. We caught a few more big trout, but no reds. I could see that John had caught a couple of fish, and judging by the splashes, they were reds. We moved to within a hundred yards of John, and began chumming. But, John had these super aggressive spring school reds going crazy, and they were wadded up in front of his boat, and not about to leave.

I'm am accustomed to other guides pulling in right on top of me over the years, when I'm the one with the reds chummed up, and don't mind a bit sharing the fish as long as they come quietly on their trolling motors and don't spook the school. Believe it or not, there are guides out there who don't have trolling motors, push-poles, poling platforms, or any other of the tools of shallow water fishing on their boats, that will come right in on top of you with their big 225's blazing. Now, that pisses me off! Anyway, although John and I are friends, I didn't want to just pull up close to him without an invite.

And, it wasn't long before John called to us to come in close to get on the school. Great! They were extremely aggressive reds, but really schooled tightly in front of John in his chum. He'd done a good job of finding the school and chumming them in! We silently anchored on the Power Pole about a cast away, and pitched our baits toward the mayhem that was going on. I also threw several bats full of live chum to try to pull a few of the fish over closer to us. Wallah! The bite was on for us, too!

We caught redfish after redfish, with the strikes coming the instant the bait hit the water. There was no time for the bait to get wet! It was instantaneous! Soon, my cousin Terry Middleton showed up and took up residence on my starboard side. With some chumming, he soon had his guys in the action, as well. It was a hoot. Three boats, six anglers, and redfish mayhem. The sound of screaming drags filled the air! Redfish were everywhere! A good sized shark showed up and began blasting into the school. But, the fish were so aggressive and intent on feeding, they didn't even care. They stayed right there!

Finally, as the tide neared it's peak, my anglers Tom and Jim grew weak!! They'd had all the redfish they wanted for one day, and were ready to go home. It had evolved into a great day for all involved. For Tom and Jim, it had been a replay of the year before, although we were on a different flat and the fish weren't quite as big. Our largest red was around 30 inches, which would be probably around 12 to 13 pounds. What a great day!

Thursday night I told my good friend of the awesome day of redfishing, and my hopes of doing it again for him on Friday. John was up for Friday and Saturday. The last couple of times John and I had been out, we'd fished on some really stinker tides. We were due a great day.

I met John at his dock at 7 AM, and had the boat lowered to near launch position by the time John arrived. We loaded up our gear and tackle, and headed out of the marina with high hopes. I had formulated a plan the night before; to go outside and check the beaches for snook, and then come back inside and try to once again chum up the redfish. I also talked to my good friend Capt. Rey Rodriguez, and told him about the redfish. We agreed to meet there, and whoever got there first would try to find the fish and get them chummed up.

John and I headed straight to Picnic Island for bait. The water was so slick, John had to use his trim tabs to keep the Coastline from porpoising. We had all the elements of a great day in place; great weather, great water, and great bait. I knew bait would be relatively easy, and we were off and running in half dozen throws. I wanted plenty of bait to chum those reds with!

We headed around the southern horn of Sanibel and up the beach toward what I have fondly called for years, the Stickbeach. I hadn't been there since last year before the hurricanes. As we made our final approach, I realized things had changed. But, as we got closer, I realized just how extensive the changes were. The Stickbeach no longer exists. There are only a couple of pieces of wood laying out into the water.

Shocked, I decided the best plan would be to moved along the beach slowly on the trolling motor casting shiners into the surf. My first cast was immediately inhaled by something quite large and powerful, that had it's way with me. It took off running and shaking it's head, and I could only speculate as to what it was. Finally, the line went limp. Once I had retrieved my line, I could see that whatever it was had bitten through the leader.

Only a minute or two later, John hooked into what turned out to be a small blacktip shark of about 3 pounds. It acted for all the world like a juvenile snook. A short time later I hooked what turned out to be a pretty good sized jack crevalle. Things then went dead for a while. Then, we caught a couple of trout and another blacktip shark. And, that was it. We worked a long section of beach without so much as a hit! We waited until I thought it was time to go inside and try to chum up the redfish.

As we made our final approach to our selected flats, I took the helm from John. I could see my buddy Rey poling in toward the flat from the northeast. We had arrived at the same time. As we zeroed in on the flat, Rey told me that he had seen a school, that was now behind him. He was talking about poling back around behind them and trying to fish them, when I spotted bunches of reds flashing as they fed, about 60 yards in front of Rey. He was straight downwind of the fish I'd spotted, and would have first shot at them. He had two anglers, apparently a husband/wife team, and the hubby was a flyfisherman.

With the wind and sun at his back, Rey was the first to hook up with his lady angler. John and I were wired, as we could see there were hundreds of redfish in front of us. We just had to adjust for the wind before we could fish them. Once the adjustment was made, John and I both had immediate hits, and missed them both.

Rey and I were both chumming, trying to take care of our customers, and at the same time keep a watchful eye on the redfish. They were spooky! We had no more than gotten them to begin eating and caught a couple, that one of the illustrious Sanibel guides came plowing across the flat like we didn't exist. His thoughtless action spooked everything on the flat, but in so doing, revealed a much larger school of reds than those we were chasing. John very eloquently said, "His lack of experience worked greatly to our advantage!", or something to that effect. The point was well taken, as the guide had almost run over the school. If he'd been paying attention, things might have been different.

But, he wasn't. And, we were. Rey and I converged on the school and began chumming. I only took a minute or two, and we were hooked up. The bite was on! But, after only a few fish, Mother Nature suddenly decided she was going to give us a seabreeze, and the breeze flipped nearly 180 degrees, spinning us around and off our fish. Damn!! We would have to start over.

So, Rey and his folks, John and I began a wide swath around the school to the north side, and tried to position ourselves in behind them, upwind. John's first several casts all netted snook. That was great. He now had his Slam. But, we were after those redfish, and we could see them pushing, swirling, and I could even see some tailing amongst the myriads of mullet that were present. We were ON reds. We chummed and fished our way toward the school, Finally, the school settled down, and began to feed in earnest. The bite was ON!!

For the next several hours John and I, and Rey and his gang, caught redfish after redfish. John and I were basking in the glow of catching big fish on the best light tackle that exists. Rey was working frantically to get the reds close enough to the boat to overcome his fly angler's lack of distance, which he finally did. His fly angler eventually caught three redfish on fly. At one point, Rey got on the deck of his Action Craft with his flyrod, and after some of the most beautiful false casting you'll ever see, nailed a nice red on the first cast!! Rey is a great fly fisherman, and the best fly guide in this entire area.

Soon, my cousin Terry Middleton, and mutual friend John Objartle showed up. We now had four boats lined up, all catching redfish as fast as we could. What a site. A site I've seen many times over the years. Of course, Mother Nature just couldn't resist giving us another challenge, when she abruptly switched her winds around to the northwest. At this point, we were the boat on the southern end of this fishing fleet we had going, and it blew us right off the fish. With three other boats in close proximity chumming, you can't afford to be blown away from where all the chum is.

But, with some chumming, John and I continued to catch reds at as fast a pace as we wanted. We were catching them two and three at a time, We'd have two on and one or two on in the rodholders, at times. It was great fun. But, eventually every good thing must come to a stop. And, with the slowing of the tide, came the slowing of the bite.

Although it hadn't been quite the craziness of the day before, it had been a great bite, and great fun. We'd all had a blast. John and I were the first to leave, as we both had things to do. But, we left knowing we'd be back the next day to try to chum those schoolies up, again. It just doesn't get much better than what we'd experienced.

As good as Thursday was, Friday was even better for John and me. The tide timing was almost identical, but it was a bit weaker, and we were on the full moon. I suspected that would make things slow for most of the morning.

So, we departed John's dock at the same time, and headed down the glass-slick river to Picnic Island. We knew the wind would be up at some point in the day because of another front to our north, but for now, it was beautiful.

A fleet of boats was there all chumming for bait. All except one, that is. I was amazed to see the same two guys I'd seen Friday, in a yellow boat drifting around aimlessly in a sea of other anchored boats, casting a small net. You'd think that they would get a clue from all the other boats out there, anchored and chumming. I never did see them catch any bait.

John and I were quickly loaded to the gills with great bait, and on our way to the first stop. We stopped at a great snook area in Ding Darling, that is barely recognizable since Charlie. We were a little ahead of schedule, and the tide was not moving. But, the noseeums were on the prowl in the no wind conditions, and were immediately eating us alive. We put up with the stinging pests for about a half hour, and tossed in the towel. The tide still wasn't moving, and the fish weren't going to eat until it did, if then. So, we were out of there.

We headed to a series of hole I like to fish on the lower part of the incoming tide. They're almost always full of nice snook, but after fishing for at least an hour and making our way along the holes, we had one catfish for our efforts. We were surely getting a slow start to our day.

It being Saturday, I was concerned about potential traffic and other anglers that might want to fish where we'd been catching our school reds. The water was getting close to right for them to be showing up, The wind was now up, and it was from the northwest, and the sun was still east of noon, so I knew finding the school by seeing them flash as they fed would be all but impossible. We would have to try to chum them into us, knowing they were out there, somewhere.

Not long after we took up position and got started, John had his first several snook into the boat. We also had company. My good friend Capt. Rey Rodriguez and my cousin Capt. Terry Middleton were working the weekend as well, and both had shown up in hopes of catching those redfish. Rey took up position just off my port side, and Terry was on Rey's port side. So far, we were the only ones catching. Terry was still on the platform trying to spot the school.

The big speckled trout were the first fish to respond to our chum. Rey's party watched as John caught a good half dozen trout, all at 5 pounds and around 24 inches. Big trout for southwest Florida. John also got several small reds, and at that point I looked up and discovered that Terry had moved on. I knew the fish were with us, and very close, or we wouldn't have caught the ones we did. I called to Rey to come over and anchor on my right side, knowing the fish were about to go crazy.

Rey had no more than gotten anchored and the bite was on. The fish went crazy! With the two of us chumming, we had redfish eating our baits as soon as they hit the water. John and I had been trying to manage three lines while we were working on getting the fish to feed. But, once they did, we soon had a mess of titanic proportions, and we had to cut and splice both lines. Back in action, we decided to just put one line out at a time. As soon as we'd have a fish hooked up and part of the way in, I'd pitch another bait over the top, which would be immediately eaten. It was mayhem.

We got the fish so worked up and close to the boat that Rey was once again able to get his fly angler three redfish on a special fly he ties. They were having a blast. But, predictably, it would come to an end around one o'clock. And, it did. John and I had racked up some 40 nice redfish, about 8 trout, most of which were at the 5 pound mark, and several snook. John had multiple Slams, and it was the best day we'd had in a long time. Perhaps, ever!

It was a hell of a way to end a great week, and the tides are favorable for more of the same next week, if I can again find the schools. The weather also promises to be good next week, so stay tuned.

Tight Lines!

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