Fishing Report for Pine Island Sound to Sarasota Bay, Florida

Capt. Butch Rickey
April 23, 2000
Pine Island Sound - Saltwater Fishing Report

FISHING REPORT FOR PINE ISLAND SOUND FOR THE WEEK ENDING 4/15/00

The weather here is still the issue. This is the longest March on record, now going on 45 days of fronts and winds. I'm ready for summer and the calm, still mornings of intense snook fishing and projectile sweats.

My good friend Chic McSherry, who comes over with his family every year from Glasgow, Scottland, was first up on Monday. Chic is a very successful entrepreneur who heads up Prosys back home, and who lives to fish. He loves all types of fishing, and does a lot of traveling to pursue his passion. He is also a brilliant writer and spinner of fishing tales. Our main objective on this day was to take his two beautiful sons Jamie and Scott out for a day of trout fishing, and when they wearied, drop them back with mom and go snook fishing. I was surprised to see only Chic and Jamie at the ramp that morning. Scott was under the weather.

We had a very poor tide this day, and it wouldn't move until later in the day. I wasn't even sure I could get a descent trout bite going for Jamie. Seems the poor tides also affect the bait. We tried Picnic Island, Chino Island, and finally scored on the flats of Fosters Point. The wind certainly wasn't in our favor, as it was east/northeast at 15.

Once baited up, I headed for a series of potholes near Regla Island which are usually full of trout on the lower parts of the tide. We found our trout there, but it wasn't a wild bite. There were enough to keep Chic and I busy keeping Jamie entertained, and they were just the right size for him to handle, for the most part. Chic and I had as much fun as Jamie just watching him have fun. As always, Jamie, now seven, constantly reminded his dad that he had caught many more fish than his dad. He's a character. I'd guess the boys caught and released around two dozen trout, a ladyfish, and a few catfish.

We went to the Waterfront for an early lunch, planning to come back to the water once the tide was finally on the move. I was hopeful the snook would be ready to eat by that time, but it wasn't the case. Oh, they showed some passive interest, hitting and dropping the bait; what I call the pop and drop. I'm not sure why they do that sometimes, but I suspect that the hits are territorial, and not from hunger. The snook simply want to kill the bait and remove it from their territory. I've noticed that you rarely see this behavior from snook except during the warmer months, when they are getting into their spawning mode. At any rate, Chic only managed three fish to the boat, and a couple of snook lost to short releases. We were in a spot that was just full of snook, but they just didn't want to play.

It had been a fun day, nonetheless, and great to see Chic and Jamie again. Chic and I made plans to meet at the Seafood Center and Crab House on Thursday evening for dinner, where I would finally get to meet his wife Jenny, and see Scott.

Eric Deaver, of Hamilton, Virginia, was up for Tuesday. Since the tide was so poor in the AM hours, I decided we'd get started at noon, and hope to God we could find bait that late in the day. The wind was southeast at 15 when we hit the water. To our good fortune, my friend and fellow guide Capt. Steve Waugh was just finishing up his morning trip as I launched the BarHopp'R. He offered me his left over bait, thank God. Eric and I did make a couple of stops in an effort to add to what Steve had given us, and we would have been fishing with pinfish or artificials if Steve hadn't been so generous. Thanks, Steve!

We headed to one of my favorite spots in the north end of the Sound where I knew there were plenty of snook; nice snook. We worked a lot of the area, and every time I'd move up to another spot, I could see big snook pushing out of where we had just fished. They were in the lockjaw mode, and wouldn't even pop and drop the bait. I finally gave up on those fish, and moved to a different area. By the time we'd made our move the tide was getting up on the bushes and the fish in our new spot decided it was finally time to eat. Eric caught a dozen or so beautiful snook, with the biggest at 30 inches. The late bite seems to be a definite pattern lately.

A late cancellation gave me the day off, Wednesday. Thursday morning dawned beautiful. I couldn't believe my eyes, and certainly hadn't believed the forecast. We were looking at a calm day with light and variable winds. James Heston, of Sebring, Florida, had the good fortune to draw this lovely day. We headed straight out to the beach just up from the lighthouse to look for bait. It was literally flipping everywhere. I loaded the well on the first throw. Most of the bait was about the same size. I thought I'd throw again to see if we could cull out some bigger bait. We circled around and got up-breeze from a large pod of bait. I threw the net. Jim had to help me get it into the boat it was so full of bait. After picking through for the larger baits, we headed on up the beach in search of snook.

We found plenty of snook and big trout, mostly in one spot. There was an older fellow in an inboard boat named Wasabe also fishing along the beach. He wasn't equipped for this kind of fishing, and left his motor running the whole time like a tarpon boat in Boca Grande Pass. He'd fish for a few minutes, then move up a little. Fish a few minutes, then move up a little. I never saw him catch a fish, but I think he succeeded in putting the fish down. Before it was over I couldn't get a bite anywhere, and it was too early for the snook to quit. We headed on up the beach, noting there were big schools of threadfin herring everywhere.

As we rode along, I noticed what from the distance looked like a big school of bait, but the pushes were just too big. I told Jim I thought I'd spotted a school of Lil Tunny. We got baits ready and pulled right up to them. The baits were hit almost as soon as they hit the water. Bang! Bang! Broken lines. Jim hooked around a dozen of them on 8 and 12 pound test, every time except for twice with the same result; broken lines. I didn't realize it until later, but what I think was happening was the same thing that often happens with mackerel. When the fish hits, the bait usually winds up being forced up the line. While the hooked fish is being fought, one of the other fish from the huge school attacks the bait on the line, and of course, bites the line in two. He did keep one on long enough to get nearly to the bottom of the spool on one of the eight pound rigs, and we did get one to boatside on a 12 pound rig. Jim was pretty worn out after fighting with that one fish on 12. They are ferocious! We had a blast with them, and finally left them biting to run inside and look for more snook. We finished the morning with 26 snook to 29 inches, 7 trout up to 5 pounds, the Tunny of fun, and a jack crevalle. It had been a great day. It was time for the Waterfront and a good lunch.

In the early morning hours of Friday, the roar of torrential rain and flash of intense lightning jerked me from a deep sleep. Man, what a storm. Another front was passing through, but this one finally was bringing us some much needed rain, instead of just wind. By morning the severe weather had passed to our south, but Tom Lorentson, of Hopatcong, New Jersey, decided he'd take a rain check on this day. It was probably a good decision, as we did have more light rains throughout the day.

So, there you have it; proof that good weather will bring good fishing. We're not out of the woods yet, though, as they're already talking about the next front approaching.

FISHING REPORT FOR PINE ISLAND SOUND FOR THE WEEK ENDING 4/22/00

Will the cold fronts ever end? God! It's mid-April and they're still coming. They're bringing very little rain, but plenty of wind, and of course, the inevitable lockjaw once they pass. I was away for the weekend, and we had a lulu of a front with lots of storms pass through last Friday and Saturday, so I was surprised to see the wind blowing out of the north on Monday morning. We already had another front coming in, but this one was dry.

My party for Monday was Dr. John O'Neil and his twelve year old son, Chris, from Potomac, Maryland. John warned me that he and his son loved to fish, but were pretty new to the sport except for fishing for panfish back home. I had John and Chris scheduled to fish with my friend Capt. Kevin Holley on Tuesday, and I figured that if nothing, else I'd get them in shape and ready for Kevin.

We headed out to the beach up from the lighthouse for bait. The water was filthy from all the storm turbulence, and I couldn't even see the bottom of my livewell once it was full! Unlike last week, there was no bait flicking anywhere, nor any birds diving. I couldn't imagine all that bait could have been blown out by the front. I made a couple of blind casts as much to get the kinks out of the net as anything, without catching anything. We moved down the beach a little and anchored, and I had John put out chum. On the subsequent half dozen throws we got plenty of shiners, as well as about four pompano per throw, and the occasional catfish and ladyfish. I was glad to see all those juvenile pompano so thick on the beach! The bait sort of disappeared into the well, but after half dozen throws I was pretty sure we had enough for a day's fishing. We were off!

It took a while at the first stop, and I had to make a few adjustments with the boat, but we finally got a bite going. It was immediately obvious that John had not glossed over their lack of experience, and he apologized for it, which he certainly shouldn't have. John and Chris needed considerable coaching during the first half of the trip, primarily to break the bad habits, but during the second half of the trip they really fell into the grove and made me proud. We only fished two spots all morning, and from the two stops John and Chris landed around 30 snook, 6 to 8 big trout to 5 pounds, a stingray, and a mackerel. We had a great time, and John made my day when he told me later at the Waterfront Restaurant that it was the best day of fishing he'd ever had. I was feeling confident that they would get on Kevin's boat Tuesday ready for action and ready to show Kevin they knew how to whip those snook. Good job, boys.

I thought it was blowing Monday. Well, Tuesday morning I realized that Monday's wind was just a warm-up for the real thing. It was howling at a steady 25 from the northwest, and gusting higher. My customer was Harold Tollrian, a splendid German fellow who had been trying to get together with me for a trip for two years. Although he'd been on a couple of other guided trips here, he had not caught any snook, and had only caught one redfish. With the wind howling like it was, I was afraid he could be in for more of the same.

We headed out to the beach where I'd gotten beautiful bait for two prior days, but the bait was nowhere to be found. Chumming didn't bring in any, either. I headed back in to the Sound and up to Chino Island. I anchored in close on the northeast side and Harold began chumming. To my surprise and delight we were loaded with bait in two throws of the net. It was almost too easy, but I knew the fishing wouldn't be!

I headed to a beautiful spot in the north end of the Sound where I've been catching lots of nice snook. The wind was from the right direction to fish it. I knew the fish were there, so it would be simply a matter of whether they would eat or not. The answer was "not"! In fact, it was "not" everywhere we went until the last couple of hours of the incoming tide. I got in the right spot at the right time, and under extreme conditions we finally got a bite going. While it lasted Harold caught around 10 snook, and we made a short move and caught a couple of redfish. I felt lucky to have done that well. Harold had a good time catching his first ever snook, and enjoyed the reds, also. We ended the blustery day with lunch at the Waterfront, which Harold quite enjoyed. He gave me the best of all tips, six cans of beer, each from a different German village and brewery, where you must go there to buy the beer. I can't wait to try them, but am waiting for a somewhat special occasion. This could be a test of will power.

Wednesday, the wind was around to straight north, but the force was down to a gentle 15 knots. Seemed like a mere breeze compared to the day before. I feared the worst kind of day for John Anderson, of Coventry, Rhode Island, and his eighty year-old dad, Ray, who now lives in Cape Coral. I was concerned that the bright nights and north wind would be enough to totally shut the fish down.

We headed out to the beach to check it for bait again. Nothing doing! I headed up to Chino Island where I had gotten beautiful bait, and plenty of it the day before. Nothing doing! I headed north to Fosters Point hoping for the best. Bingo! In a few throws I had enough bait for four boats. I figured it was going to be a very similar scenario as the day before, with no bite until late in the tide and into the afternoon. I was right. Nothing seemed to work. I figured the best plan was to be right where I was the day before at the same stage of the tide looking for another bite. I was right. We got a pretty good bite for a couple of hours and the Anderson boys caught upwards of 15 snook, I'd say.

The earlier absence of action gave us a chance to get acquainted. John and Ray were both great guys, but Ray was a pretty cool ole fella. He has two Harleys, two Triumphs, two BSA's, and a couple of old Indians, and still RIDES every day. I hope I can still walk at eighty, let alone ride or fish! Ray, you're an inspiration to all us young, but aging whipper-snappers.

Thursday was a day I'd just as soon forget, except for the good company. My friends and regular customers Jim Bach, his brother Dan, and dad Don were over from Loxahatchee, Florida, for what I had hoped would be a great day of snook fishing. The wind was finally around to the east which would allow us to go and fish where the bulk of the snook have already moved, the beaches. My plan was to be at Fosters Point early, grab some of that big, beautiful, easy bait, and be on the fish quickly. Not only did my game plan get nuked; the whole day was basically an exercise in Murphy's Law's.

First, there was no bait anywhere around Fosters. Worse, the bottom was covered so thickly with some kind of green, slimy, yuckie algae looking stuff that when I threw the net, I didn't think I was going to be able to pull it back in. We've seen this stuff on other flats this year, and it can't mean things are good. But, this was so thick I couldn't believe it, and could barely lift a net full of it. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I hadn't encountered it the day before. I knew it hadn't magically appeared over night. I thought I was in exactly the same place as the day before when bait was so easy, and there was no slop in my net. I moved around and moved around, chumming and throwing, growing more frustrated and tired by the minute. How could this be? Finally, I moved further south than I thought I'd been the day before and found clean bottom, but no bait. Resolved that the bait had disappeared, we headed back down the Sound to Chino, not knowing if that would work either.

When we arrived at Chino we saw lots of action on the water that soon revealed itself to be glass minnows. We did begin catching bait, but I don't think I caught more than a dozen in any one cast. Finally, at eleven o'clock we had enough bait to fish with, and I was about to drop. We headed to the first stop. My hopes of catching outside snook and trout action were down the dumper.

At that point I was half starved, and could have eaten raw shiners. Don had been nice enough to buy me a half of a Publix sandwich, which I inhaled, but it was too little too late. Besides, I was more interested in trying to get something going for the Bachs.

The tide was now moving, so I headed to the snook hole that had been so kind to me for the last few days. The first thing I did there was stub the little toe on my right foot. $*@)#! Not long afterward, I kicked my Law Stick out of the boat and watched it sink. Of course, right after that we finally caught a beautiful redfish. I knew it would be a close call on the upper size limit, and I had no way to measure it. Capt. Butch, Mr. Redundancy, only had one Law Stick in the boat! I put the fish in the well until we could rendezvous with a friend and measure the fish.

Next, we had a hit on a float rig I'd put out with a live shiner. It was on a brand new Daiwa Emblem Z 3000 reel. The strike was missed. I realized as I reeled the bait in that something had let go in the reel, and the spool was free to flop in and out at will. Something had blown up on the inside. I was surprised, as the Daiwas have given me much better service with much fewer parts failures and practically no maintenance compared to the Shimano equivalents I used for years. I haven't had time to perform surgery on her, yet, but I'm sure it's something simple.

At this point, we had only 2 redfish and w snook in the boat, and had broken off 3 reds, and missed a few hits. My friend and fellow captain, Rick DePaiva, who was fishing about 1/2 mile away on another flat, called me on the cell to tell me he had the redfish eating pretty well, and to invite us over to join the fun. They were biting on a bait I virtually never use; cut and bleeding. I cranked up to make the move and was idling off the flat when Jim said, "Butch, your motor is bleeding!" Sure he was joking I replied, "Bleeding?" He assured me that something red was pouring profusely out of the motor, and I spun around to find he wasn't kidding at all. The motor was dropping 2-cycle oil. I shut her down immediately unable to imagine what was going on. I pulled the cover off the motor to find oil squirting out of every unsealed part of the oil supply tank on the engine. The cutoff valve was pushed up out of the tank as if it were under great pressure. I was dumb-founded. I called Rick back to tell him of our troubles. Then I decided to call my engine builder Craig Wildasin at Outboard Motor Connection. He quickly laid my fears of something major to rest when he told me that I likely had a bad cutoff float switch, which controls the pumping of oil from the supply tank to the feeder tank. When that happens, the pump keeps running, and forces oil out everywhere, and can quickly empty your oil reserve. We had caught it quickly, and there was no damage to the ecology. Craig instructed me to unplug the control on the main tank and drive her home. He said that if I could drive by the shop in Venice, he'd GIVE me a new control switch.

Rick was concerned and kind enough to follow us to the dock to make sure we made it without further trouble. What a totally frustrating day. I had regrettably let it get the better of me. Back at the ramp, I told Jim that he didn't have to pay me for that trip. I just didn't feel right charging them for that day. But, being the great guys and gentlemen they are, the Bachs insisted they give me some money, and paid me about two thirds of what I normally charge. It was more than I deserved for that day, and I'm very thankful.

Friday I had another of my favorite friends and regular customers, John Sittzenstatter, of Benus Point, New York, and his friends Chuck and Dave, whom I'd not previously met. I was determined that no matter what happened today, I would not let it get the better of me. Thursday night I had taken the suspected bad part off BarHopp'R II and put in on BarHopp'R I, as it was easier to unplug a four wire plug and one bayonet connection than it was to move all the stuff from the other boat. Based on Craig's statements, the problem was solved.

As I pulled into the ramp Friday morning, I was harshly reminded of why I don't work weekends and holidays. It was going to be a zoo on Good Friday! The wind was out of the west at 15, so I already knew I could scrap any plans of fishing outside. You wouldn't be able to stand up, and that's no fun! Not trusting bait to be anywhere it had been, I decided to stop at Picnic and chum with some of the other boats. Turned out that bait was not only easy, but much bigger than it had been there the last few times I'd gotten bait there. It felt good to be done with bait at a reasonable hour, and not be totally exhausted.

We headed to a beautiful snook hole that offers lots of beautiful places for them to hide in good current conditions, when the tide is moving. But, out number one enemy would be a totally slack tide for most of the morning. It is a bigger problem than the full moon, but related directly to it. I knew the fish were there. We just had to figure out how to get them to eat. I had a ton of bait, and figured on doing a lot of chumming in an effort to start a riot. Well, even all the freebies wouldn't start the riot. The boys did get a few hits, and Chuck struck first blood with a beautiful 28 inch snook. It was his first snook ever, and he was so excited he couldn't stand it. It was his first snook, biggest fish ever, and he was blown away at the power of the fish on the light tackle. We worked the area hard, but only boated a couple of other snook.

Once the tide started to move we decided to turn our attentions to redfish, with no guarantee of success. Once at the new spot, I did a lot of chumming with cut shiners, needlefish, pinfish, and live shiners. Chuck again struck first blood with a beautiful redfish, and as I had promised, was blown away at the power and determination of that fish. The boys broke off several others and missed a few hits, and only boated 3 reds, but they were big ones. We also caught one nice trout and a couple of big stingrays.

Normally, I would have stayed right there and worked on those fish, but I had to get to Venice to get the parts for my boats, and I knew the ramp would be a slow moving zoo when we got there in the middle of the afternoon. I cranked up and began to idle off the flats when John proclaimed that my motor was bleeding again. I quickly shut her down in disbelief that this could be happening again. I got right on the cell phone to OMC, and got Jayson, the top dog, on the phone. He explained that there was also a control box that could cause the same problem, and that was it. Since it was unlikely that two of the float switches could fail on two simultaneous day, it seemed likely the control box was bad. I had until 6 PM to get to Venice. Once again I disabled the pump and we were headed home. John was kind enough to clean his own fish this time around, so that I could get the boat ready and on the trailer. There were, of course, the typical people blocking the drive and the ramps and delaying everything. One guy was parked right slap in the middle of a two lane ramp taking up both lanes, and obviously didn't know what he was doing. I politely reminded him that it was a 2 lane ramp, and he told me he didn't know what he was doing because he was new to boating. I politely suggested he learn somewhere else, not at one of the only public ramps in the area on a holiday.

I broke every speed law getting to Venice, but made it at 5:57! Jayson was waiting with my parts as promised. I don't care where you live; if you need an outboard motor Outboard Motor Connection in Venice, Florida, is a great place to do business with. I have been dealing with Craig for a good ten years, and bought several motors, and never had a problem other than a bad coil, or some kind of normal part failure. When I do have a problem, Craig always deals with it swiftly and gets me going. It's a great operation that many other small businesses would do well to model themselves after.

Well, that's it. If our weather would settle down, I'm sure the fishing would heat up quickly. I just don't know when we're going to finally get out of this new front every three days pattern.

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