Fishing Report for Pine Island Sound to Sarasota Bay, Florida

Capt. Butch Rickey
August 2, 2000
Pine Island Sound - Saltwater Fishing Report

FISHING REPORT FOR THE WEEK ENDING 7/1/2000

by

Capt. Butch Rickey

This was a fantastic week of great fishing, and catching. It was marred only by one mechanical problem, and news of the worst kind.

Monday was reserved for my friend Rusty Holmes, of Clearwater. He’s the guy that sold me my new Dodge Van. Rusty is an avid and experienced snook fisherman, and has caught lots of snook in his time, but always with heavy gear in the 25 to 30 pound class. He’s been wanting to fish with me since we met, and it finally happened. Rusty came down the night before, and got in real late, so we weren’t real alert out there Monday morning.

We got a good load of pinfish at the Hump, and were the third boat on the beach. Jimbo and his son Jim were already there. I don’t think Rusty was ready for what was about to transpire. It took him a few short minutes to get the hang of fishing with light spinning gear and 10 pound test, but once he did, he fished like a man possessed! He was determined to beat all other June anglers for the Angler of the Month Award. Rusty was fun to watch, and got no help from me, except with baiting hooks and tying lines. I heard the “awesome” word a lot. When we were out of bait, and concerned about the weather, as well, Rusty had 36 snook and 2 trout in the boat, and had missed much fewer fish than most folks do.

Rusty had only fished for three and a half hours before we closed up shop and headed for the Waterfront Restaurant. Over lunch, Rusty told me that a good day of snook fishing at home is 4 to 6 fish. He just couldn’t believe how many snook he’d caught, and I hope he carried a new appreciation for light tackle fishing home with him. Rusty, along with Russ Hubbard, Mike Schwartz, and a few others, is one of the best anglers I’ve ever fished with. I had a ball watching him have so much fun.

Tuesday was the first BarHopp’R trip for John Leinhauser, of Jacksonville, Florida. I think it will be a memorable one for him, as well. Conditions were again near perfect for beach snookin, with the wind out of the east at 15. We caught plenty of pinfish and some small shiners at the flat in front of Keesel’s shack, and were off.

John wasn’t an experienced snook fisherman like Rusty, but he was a good student, and got the hang of things pretty quickly. He fished hard, and lost lots of snook, but still managed to boat 27 linesiders up to 7 pounds before we called it quits. We left the beach at around eleven o’clock, concerned that if we waited any longer, by the time we had a Waterfront lunch, the weather would be on us. It was a good call, as we just made it in under the big storms after our lunch.

Wednesday was my 55th birthday. I was going to spend it with Rich Maselli, his dad Bill, and cousin Phil. The trip was a birthday present to Rich from the boys. Rich’s birthday was in February. As I waited at the ramp for Rich to arrive, I could see lightning in almost every direction. I wondered if we would even be able to run the trip. The weather was changing from an afternoon to a morning pattern, which happens when the winds shift from the east to a westerly direction in the morning.

We headed to Keesel’s for bait, and were loaded with great pinfish and shiners in short order. I was looking for another fantastic morning of fishing for Rich and the boys, and couldn’t wait to get to the beach. But, not far from Redfish Pass it happened! In an instant, I heard a scratching sound as the motor overrevved, and I almost went over the handlebars. The boat came to an abrupt stop. I couldn’t imagine what could have happened. I thought I’d missed seeing a crab trap buoy, and wrapped rope in my prop. But when I raised the motor, there was nothing tangled in the prop, and I knew immediately what had happened. I had spun the hub in the prop, for no apparent reason. It just let go.

I knew right then there would be no fishing, and I was really concerned about the storms that were all around us, especially one sitting just off Sanibel. If one of the storms moved over us, we could not run from it. We could only make way at idle speed, as the hub would start to slip at around 1,200 RPM. We began the long, anxious trip home, running at around 4 knots.

I was Jonesin for some coffee, so I called ahead to the Waterfront, to see if they would let us in for some fresh brew. They open at 11:00, and we would be showing up at around 8:30. They told us to come on. It seemed like it took forever to get there, but we finally made it without getting wet, and owner Christen Hollway welcomed us with open arms. That morning she was wearing a bright sun dress, and looked as pretty as I’ve ever seen her. She told us that she and husband J.D. had broken the lower unit on their boat the day before, and were caught in the terrible lightning storms that came through early. I felt lucky to have avoided storms, but our trip was only half over.

We arrived back at Punta Rassa ramp without incident shortly after 10:00. I really hated that Rich’s birthday present went up in spinning hub smoke, but hope we can reschedule soon.

Thursday’s trip was with my old friends Gilles Boudreau and Dave Hench. They’ve been BarHopp’R regulars for some time, now, and are both very good fishermen. I always enjoy our trips together. I hope that the great bite would still be on.

We got plenty of pinfish and small shiners at Keesel’s, and headed for the outside. The wind was southwest at around 10, which made it a little bumpy, but doable. The bite was not a good one, though. We watched several boats come and go as we waited the snook out, catching for a while, then not. The boys had 19 snook in the boat when we left the beach, which was getting pretty rough, around 10:30. We headed inside to the flats to see if we could find some snook that would eat.

Our first stop was the charm. We had a good bite right from the get-go, but now on the small shiners that were barely large enough to throw. The tide was way up, and the water fairly deep, so I was able to get closer to the fish than usual without spooking them. Gilles and Dave caught another 13 snook there, for a total of 31 fish for the morning. Dave got the best fish at 9 pounds on a tiny little bait. We finished the day at the Waterfront with a great lunch.

Friday was the nearly perfect end to a nearly perfect week. My friend and master angler Russ Hubbard was over with his son David, and his boss Gary and son William. David is eleven. William is six. It would be William’s first fishing experience. The breeze was already out of the west at around 10, and I was afraid we’d be kept from the beach. The breeze was still holding steady once we finished catching bait, and the Gulf had a little chop, but was still fishable without discomfort. We headed down the beach.

It’s probably a good thing that we didn’t have a raging bite that morning. The bite was slow, but just about right for us to handle the young boys. It didn’t take long for William to catch what would be his first fish, and first snook. Russ and I were both concerned about him loosing one of my expensive rigs, so we were helping him hold on with one hand, and giving him a big wedgie holding onto his shorts with the other. William was having a blast catching fish, and his dad was having just as much fun watching it all happen. Gary never wet a line, but sure seemed to be having fun watching his young son. David, is quite the fisherman for eleven years old (what would you expect), and we didn’t have to worry too much about him.

David hooked the fish of the day, which had to be a monster snook judging by the way it took off. I wanted to help David turn it, but Russ asked me to let him go it on his own. He could only hang on as the snook stripped yard after yard of the 10 pound line until she cut herself to freedom in the sticks. That’s snookin!

The boys ended the morning with around 25 snook in the boat, 5 of which Russ had managed to fish enough to catch. We headed to the Waterfront for recap and lunch. It had been a great day with the kids.

Because of an email delivery failure, I didn’t learn until the weekend that on that Friday, my long-time close friend Art Sokol had succumbed to cancer. I was shocked, as Art had such a positive, upbeat, it’ll never get me attitude, that I thought sure he would win his battle. I’m sorry that careers and so forth, kept me and Art from spending more time together over the last few years. I will miss him, and urge you to find time to spend with your close friends and loved ones, as tomorrow is not guaranteed. I ask that although you didn’t know Art, you include him and his wife Lois, and family in your prayers.

Until next week.

Butchie

FISHING REPORT FOR THE WEEK ENDING 7/8/2000

by

Capt. Butch Rickey

There’s not a lot to report this week for a couple of reasons. First, I took a long holiday over the Fourth, and only worked Thursday and Friday. Second, the fishing just plain sucked. We had miserable tides and the bluebird skies that come with very high pressure; a really tough combination for catching fish. Since I’ve been publishing my fishing reports on the web, I’ve only had two people challenge my catch numbers. This report should just thrill those nattering nabobs of negativism!

First up was my old friend Bill Chaney, my main supplier of good jokes in my email every day. With Bill were his good friend Jack, and Jody Chaney. Interestingly, Jack and Jody had not previously met, but were both ex-law enforcement officers. We got plenty of perfect pinfish at Keesel’s, and were off. I knew it would be tough given the conditions, but damn, I didn’t dream it would be as tough as it turned out to be! I don’t think all the law enforcement occifers in Lee Country could have made those snook eat. Someone had handcuffed all their jaws and thrown away the key. The boys had ten hits, of which seven were missed, and two snook to five pounds, and one trout were landed. Hey, slow or not, we still had fun! But, the highlight of our day was definitely lunch at the Waterfront!!

Bill, an experienced angler, and great tarpon fisherman, was very understanding of the situation, and booked a redfish trip in the fall. Now I’m under some serious pressure to produce.

I was scheduled to fish with a Scott Widler on Friday. Scott had booked the trip way back in January, and guaranteed me at least one angler, perhaps more. I filed it away in my schedule and forgot about it. Well, Scott never sent me a deposit, and didn’t have the common courtesy to let me know he’d either had a change of plans or a change of heart. If any of you other guides are reading this report, put Mr. Widler’s name on your black list. For the life of me, I don’t understand people who are so thoughtless. Anyway, I realized Thursday night when I checked my schedule that I’d never received a deposit, and surely wouldn’t be fishing on Friday.

I had referred my old friend Bob Brockway, of Pompano Beach, to fish with my second cousin Sean Middleton on Thursday in BarHopp’R II, which he was using while his Hewes was back at the factory for a badly cracked hull. While fueling the boat that morning, Sean noticed that the bearings had fallen out of the right side wheel, and was afraid to chance getting to the ramp with it. He called Bob and canceled. The real aggravating thing about that wheel bearing is that the folks at Boatmaster had replaced those bearing and seals a while back, and because that’s my backup boat, it has barely been moved. Yet, I have another major bearing failure to deal with.

So, I called Bob Thursday night as soon as I realized I had a no show on my hands and asked him if he wanted to fish. I knew his twelve year-old son Justin was really disappointed about not fishing Thursday. Bob was happy to go Friday.

I knew it would be another tough day, with a nearly identical tide, but prayed to God it wouldn’t be as slow as Thursday. Bait was no problem, but the snook on the outside refused to eat. We didn’t catch the first snook outside, but did catch two trout. Disgusted with the situation, I headed inside to the flats. I had to find some kind of action. Bob and Justin boated six snook, and missed another six or more, but they were mostly small-fries.

On the way home, my Yamaha started dropping a cylinder in and out. I could tell it was always the same cylinder, and figured I had some trash in one of the carbs, or something. Once we got in and I had a chance to take a close look, I quickly discovered that the right thermostat cover was leaking, presumably from a bad gasket. I stopped at Smith Marine on the way out of town for some gaskets thinking that was all I needed. I found out differently Sunday afternoon, when I went to make the repairs.

Speaking of Smith Marine, a week with a short report seems like an opportune time to discuss the latest development there. All of you regular readers know that I have sung nothing but praises for Craig Smith and his crew ever since I’ve been going there, even though there were times when they screwed things up pretty well. Things like that are bound to happen. They always made me feel like part of the family, always got me in and out as quickly as possible, and for the most part, always did a good job. However, I was absolutely shocked when my cousin Sean came back from Smith with a repair bill of $194 to replace a 20 ft. section of fuel line on BarHopp’R II. I was already alarmed that my last several bills seemed to be getting higher and higher, but this one took the cake. Although the fuel line seemed extraordinarily expensive at around $3 per foot, the real culprit on that bill was an hour and a half of labor at $72 and hour!! Yes, you read it right; $72 an hour.

Well, for me this has become a case of love ‘em, but leave ‘em. Craig has simply priced me right out of his market. Oh, I wouldn’t go anywhere else for trolling motor repairs, but for anything involving labor on my boats, I’m history. So are many others that I’ve talked to, already. I discussed the situation with Craig recently, and he said the rate was cranked on the advice of his accountant. Well, in my humble opinion his accountant doesn’t seem to understand the concept of market forces, i.e. supply and demand, and Craig should find a replacement. Smith Marine will not increase their earnings with a seriously jacked labor rate if they blow out all their faithful customers who helped them get where they are. That’s from a former E.A. I mention this because I know a lot of you local readers are also Smith Marine faithfuls, and you need to know about the increased rate before you drop your boat off without any questions.

To reinforce my point, my good friend Craig Wildasin, owner of Outboard Motor Connection in Venice, Florida, and builder of all my engines in the last ten years, has also grown by leaps and bounds over the last several years, has a number of employees, now, a large shop and compound to support, but to my knowledge, has never cranked his rates. Craig is very successful in a very tough business that is full of scoundrels. Unfortunately, I have a pretty good drive to get to O.M.C., but I’ll be making it now. I can buy a lot of gas for the difference in labor rates.

Oh well, I guess I’m just hoping that Craig Smith will see the light, and at least offer reasonable rates to his old and loyal customers. Smith is the ONLY business I’ve ever dealt with that didn’t offer a guide discount. I’ve made it a practice of simply not supporting businesses that do not offer that. Smith has always offered other benefits that outweighed a guide discount, but with their rapid growth, most of those have evaporated, too.

I guess I rambled enough. The folks at Smith are a great bunch, and I wish them all the best.

FISHING REPORT FOR THE WEEK ENDING 7/15/2000

by

Capt. Butch Rickey

In thirteen years of guiding I can honestly say that I've never had a customer that I didn't like. That's saying something given the different recognized personality types there are! But, there are admittedly some who I feel a special bond with, or who I'm crazy about from the moment we meet. This week was full of great people, and one couple who I just fell in love with. The fishing improved some, too, but the snook outside are still in a lockjaw pattern.

The first trip of the week was a trip I'd donated to I.G.F.A. last year. Harrison Wilder, of Gulf Breeze, Florida, had bid and won the trip. Harrison also booked a second day, as he had many family members down on vacation on Sanibel, and wanted those interested to get to go out. Monday, Harrison escorted Jack and his son Alex, and daughter Elizabeth to the ramp to meet me. Harrison would fish on Wednesday.

I'd heard a weather alert that morning warning of severe weather to build offshore and move onshore. I didn't want to take a chance of getting caught outside in a heavy storm, so I elected to tough it out inside. We headed straight to the bar that runs east/west a couple of miles north of Chino. It's been covered with bait, albeit small bait. I made one cast and had enough to fill the boat, but we culled trying instead to pick the biggest baits. It only took a few casts.

We worked at the fish steady and caught a few here and there. Jack got the best fish of the morning with a snook of about 6 pounds. The gang caught around a dozen snook, at least half of which were pretty small. It's actually good to see those small snook showing up, though. What it means is that we had a good spawn last summer, as many of these small fish are yearlings. That insures that we'll continue to have a good crop of fish coming up.

Jack and his kids were a good looking bunch, and a lot of fun.

Tuesday belonged to eighteen year-old Johnny Cahill, of Littleton, Colorado. His dad, John Cahill, recently bought a home in Cape Coral, and arranged for him to fish while he was home from college. Johnny said that after reading my "What to Expect" page he was worried that he would do something wrong and get into trouble with me, which I though was comical. In fact, Johnny was a very fine young man, and every time I meet young people like Johnny my faith in the future is restored.

I believe this was Johnny's first time to fish in the salt, and it was certainly his first snook fishing. The fish were mostly on the small side. We caught a handful of descent snook on the beach, and he wound up with a dozen or so snook for the morning. The fish on the beaches just don't want to eat, no matter what you throw at them. The fish on the inside won't eat pinfish, but will certainly go after the shiners. Problem is, all the shiners are small, and I believe the small bait is attracting the smaller, more aggressive males before we can get the bigger females interested in them. We're catching nice snook on the little baits, but they're the exception right now, rather than the rule.

I'm sure we could have caught more fish that we did, but we were forced to run from bad weather a couple of times. We finished the morning at the Waterfront Restaurant with great food and some bench fishing. Johnny assure me he'd had a great time. I hope to be fishing with his dad, soon.

Wednesday morning I met Harrison Wilder and his nephew Ryan, who was in from working on his graduate degree in California. We got plenty of pins and small shiners at the Keesel's flat. I felt sure that the snook on the outside would have to turn on sooner or later, but the snook had other ideas. Oh, Harrison and Ryan did better than anyone in a while with 9 snook in the boat, and Ryan missed another 6 or more, and Harrison 3. I was only willing to spend so much time on them waiting on a strong bite, and it was not forthcoming, so we headed inside. Along the way we ran across something that was raiding the schools of small bait and decided to see what it was. I had hoped it might be small tunneys, jack crevalle, or something, but it turned out to be ladyfish. We only managed to catch one lady before it was over. I would have given anything for a couple more. I told the boys that if anything would call in the redfish to eat on the flats it would be staked ladyfish. They were all for going to try for some reds.

I carefully cut the one ladyfish into as many steaks as I could get out of it. I used the least desirable pieces for chum. As it turned out, I think I had parked right on top of the fish because within a couple of minutes of throwing out the chum, we had our first redfish hits. The boys didn't find the reds any easier to catch on 100 + feet of light line out, but they did boat 4, and lost at least that many. I was thrilled to find redfish back on the flats. We'd had a beautiful, and fairly productive day, and Harrison and Ryan were good company. Harrison and I had a lot of common ground and good conversation.

I had to run way up to the north end of North Captiva Thursday morning to pick up Bruce Collins, of Cordova, Tennessee. I picked him up on the bay side of the pass right in front of the airstrip. I decided to head up to Cayo Costa to look for bait, since we were right there across the pass, anyway. Bait was thick, and a little bigger than what I've been seeing south, but not enough to make a difference.

At this point I was disgusted with the action on the beaches, but years of fishing the beaches keeps telling me that things are bound to heat back up. The tide on the inside wasn't right for fishing for a while, anyway, so I elected to head on down to the beach. We were the first boat there. I decided to start fishing out off the sticks and keep moving up until I hit fish. We did hit some nice fish as we got closer to the wood, but the bite is still very slow, considering the aggregation of snook in those waters.

The action was non-existent at first, and gave Bruce and I time to chat. I could tell right away that he was a great guy, and that we would have fun regardless of how it went. When we finally did start hitting snook, Bruce predictable had the same age-old problem that everyone does with getting tight on the fish before trying to set the hook. He certainly missed more than he caught. Bruce also got a beautiful snook of 10 to 12 pounds right to the boat, and the leader parted as I was leaning down to her to put her on the Boga Grip. I had been trying to get Bruce to pressure the fish harder and land her more quickly, but he didn't understand that the clock starts running on that 30 pound leader the minute the battle begins. To land the big fish on light tackle you have to have a sense of urgency like your life depended on it, and get them to the boat quickly. That means attacking the fish quickly, and pump and reeling like a mad man, which keeps that fish coming to you, and gives her no chance to get turned back around. Anyway, we had her to the boat and on the leader and count her as a catch. She had to go back, anyway, and Bruce got to get a good look at her. Immediately after that fish, he jumped another beauty as big as the last, but she spit the hook on the jump. I think Bruce wound up landing 4 or 5 snook, 2 trout, and 2 beautiful mangrove snappers. The snappers went into the cooler.

I had told Bruce that if we didn't have a serious bite by nine o'clock, we were heading inside to chase redfish. I was sure they would be right back where I had found them the day before, on the same stage of the tide. We stayed until 9:30 waiting on that raging bite, but it didn't come. I stopped near Redfish Pass to see if we could raise a couple of ladyfish. My confidence in catching them without ladyfish, there or not, was not high. While there, my buddy Capt. John Shearer called me on the cell and told me he was having no luck with the reds. No good news, as I had told him where to go the night before.

I felt sure I could find those reds, and gave up on the ladyfish. As I polled onto the flats less that a hundred yards from John, I saw the reds rise up right in front of me. It was a nice school. I quickly tossed a bat full of chum to try to hold them there until I could get anchored and get the boat situated, and hooks baited. The first two baits out were small shiners under popping corks, and it wasn't long before they were eaten. Once I got things settled and knew I had the fish held up, I cut some pinfish and tossed them as far as I could. They were eaten quickly. In fact, we caught all the fish after that on sliced and diced pinfish at the end of 150 ft. casts. Before it was over Bruce had boated 9 nice redfish, and lost another 6, which gave him a double West Coast Slam, and plenty of fish in the cooler.

Yes, when you're staying on North Captiva, you want some fish for the cooler, as groceries are hard to come by there. Bruce had a blast! From what he said the trip exceeded his expectations. We headed back to N.C. once the bite slowed. I left feeling pretty sure the fish would meet me there again the next day. I've heard reports from other areas saying that redfish were suddenly appearing on the flats. We don't usually see them in any number on the flats until after the August full moon. Maybe they're early this year.

After a wonderful four days with some great folks, Friday was the creme de la creme. My clients were Bobby and Della Dumont, of Sebring, Florida. Della had booked the trip for her new hubby as a Christmas present. She paid the deposit, and when it was time to settle up, Bobby found out he was on tap for the rest of it. Good trick, Della. Hey, it's the thought that counts, right. We got a good laugh over that!

Della first called me about the trip way back sometime in 1999, and since then Della, Bobby, and I have passed many emails back and forth. I felt like I already knew them. It just wasn't official. Well, Bobby and Della were staying at a friend's house in St. James City, so we agreed that it would be easiest to pick them up in St. James City. I had just heard the crack of dawn as I pulled into the docks, but even in the darkness I could tell that Bobby was a big ole boy like me, and Della was as pretty as a picture. You readers may call me corny, and that's OK. I don't know what it was, exactly. We had the common bond of all being native born Floridians, but we didn't know that starting out. It was just one of those things, but for me it was love at first sight with the Dumonts (yes, that includes you, Bobby!). I just felt a special bond with them that was really cool. I think it's a couples thing, for one thing. It's the same kind of special thing I felt with Scott and Colleen Gibney, and a number of other couples. You know who you are!

Anyway, I knew it would be a great day regardless of how the fishing went. I also knew Bobby wanted to learn some stuff, and wanted to introduce him to some new ideas. It took us a while to get bait. There were plenty of pinfish everywhere we went, but we didn't get into descent quantities of shiners (enough to cull) until I had gone all the way back to Cayo Costa. Well, at least I didn't have to go back later, so it wasn't so bad.

We had a west wind at 15 knots, so fishing the outside for snook was out of the question. I didn't have any confidence in it at this point, anyway. Finally baited up, we headed to a spot where I've been catching a lot of snook of all sizes on the inside. There were plenty of snook there, and the Dumonts caught 6 small fish. We elected to turn our attentions to redfish, although it was early on the tide.

I moved to the flat where I'd found the reds for the last two days and began my chumming handiwork. Nothing! Surely, they wouldn't double-cross me, today! After giving them plenty of time to come to my chum, I moved up on the flat until I saw a fish spook at about 100 yards. I knew I was on the fish, now. I began my chumming again. We put out small shiners under corks, and cut pinfish. In no time, Della had the first red of the day, a bruiser, and it was a handful for her. Oh, I love the way big redfish fight. It's the only way I can make another man's wife or girlfriend squeal without getting shot!!! Della got the fish all the way to the boat, and the hook pulled just as I was about to land it.

That kind of set the tone for the rest of the fish that hit. Bobby and Della had at least 10 reds on by my count, but we didn't get a one IN the boat. We had a good bite going, but the fish weren't in the mode where they were eating with reckless abandon, yet, when another guide pulled in next to us, about 50 ft. off my port side. He was very quiet, and knew he was welcome to join us, but I believe that because he came in just after I got things going the fish sensed his boat and scrammed. His boys caught one nice red, and it was over, just like that. Damn! I tried my best to get things going again, but it wasn't to be. We ended the day back at the Waterfront where we sat and talked for a couple of hours, and Della ran into an old friend from her home town of Everglades City.

It was a wonderful day. The reds had put a hex on us, and refused to be boated, but we had a great time, nonetheless. Della said she didn't think she could have landed more than a couple of those reds, anyway, and that I had certainly put them on the fish. Bob and Della were going to try their luck in the same area on Saturday morning from his Backcountry 20. Can't wait to hear how they did. I hope they spanked 'em!

So, that's how it went last week. It's long hours and hard work being a fishing guide. Never let anyone tell you any different. But, the rewards are many in terms of new friendships and wonderful memories. That's what makes guiding so great!

FISHING REPORT FOR THE WEEK ENDING 7/22/2000

by

Capt. Butch Rickey

The redfishing is definitely heating up, but the very poor morning tides, and intense afternoon heat made them a bit unpredictable. All in all, we did pretty good.

First up this week were Mike McMahon, of St. Leonard, Maryland, and his brother Pete, who lives in Orlando. Mike is 6 ft. 9 in., and Pete is the small guy at 6 ft. 5 in. tall. These are the biggest boys ever to step foot on the BarHopp'R, I believe. They certainly both dwarfed my 6 ft. 2 in., but hey, I had 'em beat in circumference! Mike had been out with Jess Messmer and Ozzie Lessinger in years past, and had great trips with both. Mike kind of confessed that he wanted to see if I could live up to my website. Man, talk about pressure!

The weather was in a reversed pattern of winds from the west, which is very unusual for summer, here. The only way we can get that pattern is to have a tropical storm in the vacinity, or a big winter type front push far enough south to move the Bermuda high that usually controls our summer weather. The result is that we have morning storms, instead of the usual big afternoon thunderboomers that rumble in from the east.

Bait seemed to have relocated itself from the previous week, and the spots that had been producing good and plenty pinfish and shiners weren't working this morning. I decided to check one more spot, that usually has great bait this time of year, but which had quit producing weeks ago, for some reason. Sure enough, there was the biggest whitebait there that I've seen in two months, anywhere. We were set.

I headed to the first hole for the morning. Before we could even get things organized and give it a chance, we had showers coming in off the gulf right at us. I never trust the summer weather not to have plenty of electricity in it, no matter where it's coming from, and elected to pick up and run away from it. Besides, it was too early for us all to get soaking wet. The rain kind of hung around and didn't seem to move much, so I decided to fish another area that often gives up great redfish. Even so, we still got wet twice.

I began chumming with shiners and pinfish, and had to move the boat a short ways and start over a couple of times, but the fish finally turned on. For the rest of the morning, Mike and Pete hit redfish after redfish, and we never moved again. Mike and Pete were fun guys, and with all the action going on, we had a blast. We even had one rod spooled by a big red in a matter of seconds as it sat unattended in one of the bow rod holders. We were all busy taking fish off, and taking pictures, when it happened. That's just one reason I carry spare spools and line. Well, by the time we were done, Mike and Pete had caught the 3 inevitable stingrays and tangled with exactly 37 big reds. They had to get into the groove of light line fishing and long casts, and after breakoffs, pulled hooks, etc., they landed 25 of those reds. I think I passed the test.

What a difference a day can make. Tuesday we might as well have been fishing on one of the dry canals of Mars. The wind was around to the northwest most of the morning, and we once again had an absolutely flat tide, but after Monday, I felt confident I could get something going. The pressure was on for this trip, too, as my customer was Steve Ratcliff and his sixteen year old son, Steven, from Plant City, who had bid on, and won a trip I donated to the Moffitt Cancer Center through my good friend Tom Ross. I was sure Tom had probably told Steve about all the great trips we'd had, and Steve said Tom had bid on it himself. Well, the fish didn't care about any of that, and refused to eat, no matter what I did. All we had to show for our redfish efforts were a stingray and a catfish.

Desperate to put some fish into the boat I turned our attentions to snook. It was now very late in the day for anything to eat. Although we only got three snook, we certainly saved the life of one of them. He had an old rusty hook still in his mouth, although no longer in the flesh, and a long piece of algae covered leader that ran back to his tail and was tied tightly around it. The fish had been wearing the leader long enough for the flesh of it's tail to be open and growing up around the leader, kind of like a tree does when a rope is left tied around it. We freed young Mr. Snook from his shackles and chains and let him go. That and lunch at the Waterfront were the highlights of the day. I wonder if Tom will ask me to donate again next year?

Wednesday, things were pretty much back to normal with the redfish for Mark Anderson and his friend Phil, and Phil's son John, of Ravena, New York. I did one thing very different, though. I decided to take my chances with the weather and the heat and fish the afternoon tide. We met at ten o'clock. I had been sitting at the ramp for an hour watching the approaching weather and listening to it boom. I wondered if I had made the right call. Once Mark and the gang showed up, we hung around the dock for a while waiting to see what the weather was going to do. It just seemed to be hanging right along the coast. We finally decided to try to run as far as the Waterfront Restaurant, which was almost to where we would catch bait. We could hide there and have an early lunch if the weather didn't cooperate. And, of course, it didn't. We were getting rained on before we even got there, and it appeared the weather was moving onshore. We headed to the Waterfront. There we ran into Skip Dunn, who Mark had been out with a couple of years ago when I was booked. Skip told us the weather was really bad just a mile or two up the Sound. We had that early lunch and watched the weather channel until around noon, when I finally figured it was safe to chance fishing.

Thank God one of our Captains gave me a big scoop of bait at the dock that morning. I apologize for not knowing his last name, but his name is Jon, and I believe he runs a yellow Maverick. His well was running over, and he said a lot of it would die if he didn't thin it out. Well, he saved us at least an hour after the storms, and that was a good break. I wasn't exactly sure how much bait we had, but it appeared that we had enough to fish with, and it turned out that we did.

Once at our first stop it didn't take too long to get things going. We didn't have the wild bite of Monday, but it was sure a far cry from the locked jaws of Tuesday. We had a lot of laughs, too, as the guys teased each other over their angling antics. When it was over, the Anderson gang had caught a stingray, a catfish, and tangled with 17 big redfish to 12 pounds. They got 7 of them into the boat. We fished until the tide was done, and called it a day.

Thursday the weather was settled down for Randy Routier and his fine sons Brandon and Tory, of Edinburgh, Indiana. We followed the same plan as the day before with Mark, and started our day at ten o'clock. Although it was harder to get, there was still plenty of bait at Chino, and we were fishing before 11:30.

After an adjustment or two we were finally on fish; a steady bite, if not a wild one. Randy and seventeen year old Brandon got into the groove fairly quickly, but young Tory, age 12, had a harder time getting the knack of it. At one point, while Tory was trying to get a nice red hooked, and knowing he would lose it if he didn't really stick it a couple of times, I grabbed the rod and hauled back on it to show him how we wanted him to strike the fish. In all the excitement of the moment, I smacked him in the face with the flat of my forearm. Thank God he wasn't hurt, but I think it sure surprised him a moment. We all had a good laugh over it after Tory got the fish landed, and we were both sure he wasn't hurt.

By the time the tide was finished the Routiers had caught a blacktip shark, two stingrays, a catfish, and had tangled with 18 redfish to 9 pounds, landing 6 of them. We'd had a good time. Brandon had the hottest rod, and had fun telling his dad, "It's in the boat!" We finished with a great Waterfront lunch.

Friday, it was fishing 101 for Art Lewis, of Lakeland, who recently bought a place on Pine Island. Art was eager to learn the basics of fishing Pine Island Sound, and getting around in the Sound. I told Art was would certainly be a slow day of catching if we fished, what with a long, lazy morning tide, and the high late in the day. His primary interest was in learning, not catching, and he decided to go. The lesson started, of course, with catching bait, which is one of the most important aspects of putting fish in the boat. From there I spent about half the day showing Art spots near home where he could fish at different times of year, and more importantly, what things to look for in deciding where to fish; things like potholes, cuts, current flow, oyster bars, and the ring of fire.

The second part of the trip was devoted to introducing Art to catching redfish and snook on the flats, something he'd never done. All of his previous redfishing had been in the bushes. Fishing open water is much easier than fishing the trees in my opinion, and I've had far more big days on the flats than I ever did in the bushes. Well, Art got his first flats redfish, which was also his biggest redfish, ever. But, he only got two. He also lost two snook. We had seen a slow day of catching during the short time we fished, as I predicted, but Art was happy and felt he had learned a great deal. I heard from him last night, and he said he'd probably be ready for Fishing 102 by fall. I'm looking forward to that. Fall fishing can be just dynamic.

So, that's how it went. Except for one real stinker of a day Tuesday, it wasn't a bad week; lots of good folks and good times. We ease back into a much better tide pattern as next week progresses, so I'm looking for good things to be happening in the next fishing report.

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