Fishing Report for Pine Island Sound to Sarasota Bay, Florida

Capt. Butch Rickey
March 19, 2006
Pine Island Sound - Saltwater Fishing Report

REPORT FOR THE WEEK ENDING 3/18/06 by Capt. Butch Rickey

Monday, I had my first outing with Bob King and his good friend Paul Milquet, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. It was a great day of snooking. I began the day before the sun was up at the second span of the causeway casting for bait. I only made two good strikes, one net of shiners and one net full of threadfins, but that was enough for a day of fishing. From the causeway I went to pick up Bob and Paul at their condo, which was just up the canal east of the causeway on Sanibel.

We got to the first stop ahead of the incoming tide. We were on the last gasp of the outgoing. We managed a couple of snook on the almost dead water, and I fully expected a big bite once the tide turned, but it didn’t happen. Bright nights Blues, I suppose!

We moved on to a hole that usually gives up snook and trout this time of year. We found plenty of trout, but no snook. The boys were wanting enough fish to feed the gang, so this was the place to make sure they had that order filled. They caught a bunch of nice slot trout, and put their limit in the well. With that objective met, we left them biting in favor of more snook fishing.

I headed north, and settled on a small key on the east side. We had action immediately, and before Bob knew what happened Paul had two beautiful snook of 28 and 29 inches in the boat. I think he was really surprised at how much horsepower those fish had. Bob caught some too, but didn’t match Paul’s for size. He did have his shots, though.

We moved a short distance around to the adjacent side of the key where we got into more action. Both the boys missed some BIG snook. Paul pulled the hook on one, and Bob got ahead of several and they got away. We were having a blast, though, and the boys were having fun teasing me about my coaching them. We’d had a great day of snooking, and decided we’d go and try to find a redfish or two to seal our Slam.

I went south on the east side to a spot I love to fish on a south wind. I chummed the shoreline with cut threadfins, but the only fish we caught was another snook on a live shiner. The reds just weren’t playing. We moved on.

At the next stop we put out two cut bait rigs and one live bait under a popping cork. We got our first and only red on the livebait. We had another red boil on the bait, but couldn’t get him to eat it. I moved to another spot, but when I went to get a bait realized that we were down to one last shiner. It was almost quitting time, so we headed for home with some beautiful snook and trout in the well.

Tuesday night, Wednesday morning, a late season cold front passed without bringing any rain or storms. But, it did bring cooler temps and a big wind most of the day Wednesday. I was on the water before 6 AM casting for bait around the causeway, and was back to meet my good friend Alison Ward, by 7:15. Aly was joined by her brother Bill, who is nothing short of a hoot. As Aly walked up to me she said, “I’d recognize those Republican legs, anywhere!” Yes! We’re on the opposite ends of the political spectrum, but I love her to death! She’s as sweet as they come, and she loves to fish! What’s not to love. Plus, she thinks I have great legs!!

Knowing the weather forecast for this day, I had talked to Aly Monday night and tried to move her and Bill to Tuesday, my only open day of the week. But, Bill was still fighting flight delays and trying to get here, and we had to stick with Wednesday. Aly understood that things might be very tough.

I had probably 700 baits in the well in two or three casts, so bait wouldn’t be an issue on this day. But, the passing of the front and the high barometer and north wind would be. It was a day on which I figured we should give thanks for anything we caught.

The tide was still outgoing, and I headed to one of my favorite winter north wind, outgoing tide spots. There was no one else in the area when we got there. I got the boat set, and we put baits in the water. The very first bait was slammed, and Aly was in a great fight with what turned out to be a snook of nearly 30 inches.

After lots of excitement, some enthusiastic coaching, and some great execution, Aly had the snook in the boat. It was a beauty. I knew she and Bill wanted to keep enough fish to feed the gang, and I was really pleased when Aly volunteered to let the beautiful female snook have her freedom.

We fished that spot for another hour or so, and caught several snook, a trout or two, a grouper, a flounder, and a snapper. When the action seemed to be over we moved to another spot a couple of miles away expecting a big snook bite, but were greeted by only two snook. The fish certainly seemed to be lockjawed.

We moved, again, to a favorite spot of mine that produces nice snook and trout in early spring. Although Aly and Bill had some baits unmistakably signed by Mr. Snook, we didn’t get any to eat. But, the speckled trout were willing to bite, and we loaded the well with them before it was over. Once the bite was over there we hit a couple of other spots catching a trout or two, but no snook. We moved on.

We hit a couple of other spots along the way north, but found no action. We finally found a snook or two at Joslyn Island, and by that time it was time to go home. Aly and Bill were both feeling the effects of the Florida sun, and were ready to find some shade.

As we headed home, we realized that indeed the big wind had laid down, and the ride home was not anything like we had expected earlier in the day. So, although is was a slow day by our standards, we had loaded the well with two limits of keeper trout, a snapper, and a flounder, and could have had a snook in there with them, as well.

Bill had kept us entertained all day long with great stories told on his family, which kept Aly and I in stitches. We caught fish and had a great time. I don’t know what else you could ask for!

Day three. Thursday. I was on the water again at 6 AM throwing the 10 ft. net I’d sworn off, and feeling it. Although most of the bait was threadfins, I did manage to get plenty of shiners, as well. I met Scott Howell,, his son Mike, and good friend Dave Stebbins, of Chesterland, Ohio, at 7:30 for our second trip. It was good to see them again, and they were ready to go get ‘em!

But, the day started off really slowly. We hit spot after spot, all full of fish, but they fish were having nothing to do with our offerings. Chumming didn’t help. Finally, as we moved further north into the Sound we finally found some snook that would eat, and caught several. And then, as fast as it had begun, it was over. We moved on.

It’s really busy out there, and it seemed there was a boat sitting everywhere I wanted to go. I don’t mean necessarily fishing where I wanted to fish, but in an area close enough that the rules of shallow water fishing dictate that you don’t get too close. At Joslyn Island we found a few more snook, but that didn’t last all that long, either.

At the next spot we caught a snook, and then a redfish. I told the guys that if there was one redfish here, there were certain to be many more close by. I turned my attention to the reds, and began chumming and moving forward a bit at a time. Soon we began seeing action, and with an adjustment were getting hit as soon as our baits hit the water. We were shallow, and it’s really fun to watch a big redfish chase down a shiner tethered to a popping cork with about 14 inches of leader. Almost like topwater fishing! We had great action for the rest of the tide, and even managed one quadruple hookup. The guys even let me catch a fish on my new Stella 3000FB, and give it a proper break-in. I got real busy; too busy to count. But we caught a bunch of redfish. I was even teasing Mike, thirteen years old, about wimping out as he complained about his arms hurting from catching all those redfish. It was a great way to end the day, and the second trip for the boys.

Friday morning I was at it early, again, preparing for another trip with Randy Byers, and his son John. They’re really great guys from over in Pembroke Pines, Florida. It seemed shiners were nowhere to be found. I kept coming up with large loads of threadfins, everywhere I threw the net. They just won’t survive in the well long enough to get in a day of fishing, and they’ll drive you nuts plugging up the exhaust side of the baitwell with their little corpses. They’re fondly known as deadfins around here. Good bait, but far too fragile and hard to throw unless they’re the big ones.

I spotted a young man in a yellow skiff that looked brand new. From a hundred yards I could see that he had a toy net, and worse didn’t know how to throw it. I eased over toward him thinking I’d give him some bait from my next, and last toss. I was exhausted. As I approached he joked about not knowing what he was doing, and I suggested the first things he do is get a real castnet. I told him I’d give him some bait and moved up on the bridge pedestal and threw.

When I tried to purse the net and bring it into the boat, I could barely move it. Not realizing how much bait was in the net, I had already pulled my back, again. I struggled, and couldn’t budge the net over the side of the Talon. I could now see the biggest load of threadfins I’d ever netted. I called to the young man for help, and quickly he came along side, and with the two of us pulling for all we were worth, we still almost didn’t get the net over the gunwale of the Talon. I’m guessing we had 500 pounds of deadfins and water, and once I finally managed to get the net to release it all the whole cockpit of the Talon with a couple inches deep in deadfins. My cup had indeed runneth over! I scooped a couple of buckets of minnows for my new friend, and then set about dealing with the mess in the boat. I tried picking through what was in the tray to find shiners, and did get some, but not enough to allow me to do any chumming.

By the time I was done throwing out the deadfins I must have looked like Tinker Bell, as I was covered with scales from one end to the other. I twinkled in the sunlight as I moved. And, the Talon looked like it had been plated with Mother of Pearl from all the scales stuck everywhere. I had to clean it up, or forever have a twinkling boat, but I could hardly move.

I managed to get back to the dock on time to pick up Randy and John, and tried to relay to them what had happened. But, I don’t think you could comprehend the bait and the mess if you hadn’t seen it. They also had no idea how bad my back was hurting.

I decided to detour into Ding Darling where a lot of big snook live while I still had some threadfins that hadn’t morphed into deadfins to chum with. We also had some big ones, which the snook like. But we were on the tail end of a do-nothing outgoing tide, and the water was just crawling. Not to my surprise, we got plenty of action on our chummed greenies, but they weren’t interested in biting one with a hook in it. The boys boated a snook and a nice trout, and got two or three other hits, but missed them.

But, we had an excellent bite from the no-seeums, and they were about to carry us off. I was literally burning all over. Then, when I went to use the Power Pole I realized that a critical bolt had fallen out of it. The no-seeums and the Power Pole failure just exacerbated my back pain, and I was having a hard time dealing with it all. We were all for getting the hell out of the bugs, who were just eating the bug spray I applied to us all like it was gravy on meatloaf!

With the low tide a bit higher each day of this week, I had my mind on a series of potholes that get full of snook this time of year. I thought I would be able to just make it across the shallows on the trolling motor to reach them. But, once there, we quickly stuck enough that the trolling motor wouldn’t move us. We all wound up out of the boat pushing the Talon for a bit, but we finally couldn’t move her any farther. My back was screaming at me.

I suggested Randy and John bait up and walk the remaining 40 feet or so to the hole and see if they could get something going. I joined them a few minutes later, and we managed to boat one snook. Then the show started. Dozens of snook began thrashing glass minnows over several of the holes; jumping, doing somersaults, and going crazy. The only time I’ve seen snook do that is out on the beaches in the summertime, always after they have rowed out. It’s quite something to see, and on the beach they’ll do it by the thousands, as far as the eye can see. And, when they’re doing that, they’ll strike anything that hits the water! Except today. Those bloody fish kept doing that for quite a while, and wouldn’t look at a bait.

Knowing how many fish were there with us, we kept at it. Once they quit doing their acrobatics, we did manage to catch a few, including the first keeper of the day. But, the bite wasn’t anything like it normally is in those holes; hot and heavy. Then, as quickly as it began, it ended. No more hits.

Figuring the snook had moved with the incoming tide, I made a move, too. I set us up where I was sure they had moved to. Although the fish still weren’t in much of a mood to eat, we did have some action. Randy and John caught some nice snook including four or five keepers. John caught the fish of the day on a sliced and diced deadfin I had out trying to sniff out a redfish. It was a beautiful fish that gave him quite a thrill on the light tackle. John got her right to the boat, and made one mistake; trying to lift her head too high instead of just keeping it where she couldn’t dig and take off, again. The fish was somewhere between 12 and 15 pounds, I would estimate, and I’ve seen a lot of them. Anyway, as I reached for the leader, Bog Grip in hand, the hook pulled under the pressure, and buried itself in my right bird-finger! Fortunately, it had hit the edge of my fingernail first, and it was enough to keep it from completely disappearing into my finger. I yanked it out quickly, and fortunately, the barb on those Owner Mutu Light circle hooks is very small. It served to further exacerbate the situation, and I found myself wishing I had stayed in bed.

We never did get a redfish to eat, but did catch some big trout around the four pound mark, and some quality snook. What we lacked in quantity on this day we had made up for with quality, and the boys had their fish for dinner, too.

It’s amazing how pain can alter your demeanor. I suspect that I might have been a general PITA, or an old grump for most of the day. I was so off my game, I don’t even know. If so, I hope Randy and John will forgive me, and I appreciate their patience. Throughout the day, I really didn’t know if I’d be able to walk the next morning.

And, man was I dreading the next morning. It was Saturday. My wife, Jean, had called a couple of weeks earlier wanting to know if I would take her boss of more than thirty years, Dr. Richard Georgiades, fishing on Saturday, the 18th. She knows I hate fishing the weekends. First, it’s my time to be with her. Second, the ramp, even under the best conditions is what the Navy calls a goat-screw! Oh, you can launch early and get a place to park, but when you come back in at the end of the day, it’s an unbelievable mess. Now, enter the fact that the bridge construction recently claimed about 2/3 of our ramp parking so that they can move the toll booths and lanes of traffic into the parking lot and begin construction on the bridge approach!! Add to that there is only a narrow two-way entrance lane, concrete barricades and orange pylons all over directing your path, and at least two of what would be considered hairpin turns to anyone pulling a boat and trailer, and we have the recipe for goat-screws of the greatest magnitude. In short, every day is like a weekend day, now. I didn’t even want to imagine what it would be like on the weekend.

I reminded Jean of my weekend rates policy, and asked her to make sure Dr. G. knew about it. I figured he would change his mind about fishing on the weekend, but it turned out that his brother Wayne was in town from Tennessee, and Saturday was the only day they had to get Wayne out for a day of fishing. So, the trip was on, and Dr. G., his son Craig, and brother Wayne would drive down from Sarasota Friday night and stay at Best Western just down the road from the ramp. We were supposed to have dinner that night, but I was physically wiped out, and didn’t want to move, and was worried about what my condition would be the next morning.

And, morning came quickly. I was up before 4 AM, and on the water before 5. My good friend Capt. Rey Rodriguez told me that he had gotten a much better ratio of shiners to deadfins by being on the water much earlier the day before, so that along with concern that if I waited until 6 AM, I might not get a place to park convinced me to start an hour earlier. I was shocked and relieved that I could walk, and that most of my pain was gone.

I couldn’t believe that when I arrived that morning at 4:45 AM, we were down to just a few remaining trailer parking slots! And, although I threw the net way more than I wanted to, I did get a great mix of shiners and threads, which was mostly shiners complimented with large threadfins. I had enough bait for all the chumming I wanted to do.

They guys were there waiting on me when I returned at 6:30. As we idled toward the open water I explained to them that with all the weekend traffic, I fully expected flats boats to rain down on the Sound like the bombs of our Iraq Shock and Awe Campaign! My plan was to go to an area where I knew there were plenty of fish, and camp on it. I didn’t want to spend the better part of the day riding around, fighting big boat wakes every 100 yards, trying to find a place to fish.

So, that’s what we did. We did make one quick stop along the way, but a stagnant tide and no-seeums had us quickly on our way. The water was rough, as something had happened over night to cause a stiff northwest wind. The Sound is aligned northwest by southeast, and a northwest wind just roars right down it with very little to get in its way.

Once we got to our chosen spot, I realized that the flat outgoing tide that was supposed to change at around 9:30 AM, was being further pushed out by the north wind. Who knew when it would stop? I can tell you that we fished hard for the first half of the trip without so much as a nibble. We moved to another area nearby thinking that perhaps I could get some big winter trout to eat, but they were not interested, either.

So, as the tide finally began to move I moved again to an area that offered a little more water on the flats, and usually has redfish, as well. I even catch them there through the winter when there’s enough water before the fronts. But, after working the area over well, we had one fish. It was a beautiful 4 pound trout.

By now, the tide was getting near right to allow me to follow through with my original plan, and to my great surprise the area hadn’t turned into a parking lot. It wasn’t too long after staking out that we saw our first action. The boys caught some nice snook, including a couple of keepers, a couple of big trout, and a nice redfish. On a tough day we had gotten the Slam.

The best fish of the day came on another sliced and diced threadfin I had out looking for a passing redfish. Dr. G. has been having some balance issues, and had been mostly sitting out and just enjoying being on the water and watching Wayne and Craig fish. And, Wayne had been providing constant entertainment during the slow time with lots of jokes. We hadn’t been bored, for sure. Anyway, I had put the cut bait out and given the rod to Dr. G., in hopes something would come by and pick it up.

It’s amazing how the sound of Power Pro ripping through the guides against the singing drag of the reel can snatch you out of your relaxing solitude as a big snook blasts a bait and takes off for parts unknown! Sure as hell woke Dr. G. up when that rod he was holding went off and darned near yanked him out of his seat. The fish was just smoking line off the reel, and Dr. G., quickly decided it was too much for him to handle along with his balance problem. He quickly managed to hand the rod off to Wayne, who after a few minutes of excitement and snook antics that almost earned her freedom, subdued the beautiful snook. It was a nice fish, but not as big as she fought. This fish had attitude and afterburners. It had been the perfect way to cap off a tough day of catching, and Wayne was happy he had plenty of saltwater fish to take home to Tennessee.

I was relieved to find that we had beaten the big crowd at the ramp. It was busy, but I knew it would shortly turn into mayhem. And, as I drove out of the ramp, my suspicion was confirmed as I counted rig after rig parked on both sides of McGreggor Blvd. And, for the second day in a row, a trailer parked on one of the sharp turns had gotten run over by another trailer being pulled by an inexperienced weekend boater. Today, it was Capt. Rey’s trailer for his Hells Bay, and if I hadn’t laid on my horn the guy in front of me trying to park in the same space Rey had just pulled out of would have run right over the next trailer. He got out and thanked me once he finally got parked.

What a mess!

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