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Venice - Snook Alley - January 22nd, 2012 |
RECORDED: 
72 °
FISHING: Excellent
Jim McGowan fished Little Sarasota Bay with me recently, and had a good time with trout and ladyfish in the 3-pound class.
We were up near Spanish Point, working grass flats and some oyster bars that were getting dimpled by redfish cruising around looking for fiddler crabs.
It was pretty chilly that morning, though, and the water temps were still just a bit over 61 degrees. Finally, when the water got to 63, the fishing turned on. So, I guess we'll be concentrating more on the afternoon warmth than the morning tides during the next week.
Offshore anglers have been doing well on porgies, grunts, red snapper and some amberjack that are running more than 30 pounds. Running for three hours and then anchoring over a reef isn't my cup of coffee, but at least they're getting bent rods out of the deal.
I've got a quail trip with Bill and Kevin Delaney Tuesday (I haven't told Heart and Tug yet!!), then it's time to look for some tarpon in my "secret" honey-hole that holds them year-round. I also just got a tip that I need to check out--another juvie tarpon hangout.
I'll keep you posted. Til then...
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - January 10th, 2012 |
RECORDED:
77 °
FISHING: Excellent
The wind had laid down, the sun was shining, and the moon was just about as big and bright as it could be. Which means the gravitational pull, etc. etc. etc. would make the fishing Monday morning exceptionally spectacular.
Yeah. Go tell it to the fish!
I had Ron Pisani throwing everything I could think of in all the best spots I could think of. We were after redfish, see, and I just KNEW they’d be hungry after the cold front that had blown through.
“Sure, we’ll go hit some oyster bars,” I had told Ron—who had just been dragged back to Venice from Albany by his wife, Peg.
She’s lobbying HARD for them to move here permanently and forget they ever heard of Upstate New York. “Let the kids come visit us down here,” she said when we’d met at Books-A-Million. “It’s too cold up there for me anymore!”
Anyway, I digress. Peg dropped Ron off and went back to lounge by the pool. We, on the other hand, headed to Lemon Bay and a Date With Redfish.
Except the redfish stood us up.
I mean, it was like having the girl’s father open the door and tell you she wasn’t home. Having the cafeteria lady slam the window shut and say they were out of food. Going home after school to find out your parents had moved. And changed the locks.
This was worse than simply being insulted. I was mortified.
The only consolation—if you can call it that—was when a few large redfish shot past the Hewes as if they’d been propelled by an RPG launcher.
“There goes one!” I yelled to Ron. Who grimaced and made another cast toward the barnacle-encrusted dock pilings I was poling past.
When nothing fishy materialized out of the myriad potholes we were working on the west side of the bay, I decided to try a spot that used to be a wonderfully consistent place for redfish.
Sigh. I guess the operative phrase there was “used to be.”
Finally, I gave up.
“Reel in,” I told Ron. “We’re moving.”
Less than five minutes later, I tossed out the sea anchor and we started drifting an enormous flat near Stump Pass. By now, I was Beyond Redfish.
Ron was still pitching. I pulled another rod out from the slots under the gunwale and stripped off a bunch of line. The idea was to get a castable amount off the reel, then have Ron try this imitation greenback lead-eye fly.
Whipping out fifty or sixty feet of Wulff Bermuda Triangle, I made a couple of strips, intending to hand the rod to Ron, when I saw his line go tight and start cutting through the water.
Hooboy! Finally!
Well, that twenty-inch spotted sea trout was the first of several that came to the boat rapid-fire. It was like the conjunction of time/tide/location finally meshed.
“Okay,” I said to Ron after he landed his fifth or sixth fish in a matter of minutes, “It’s time to go home.”
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
I took Heart and Tug The Thug up to Sarasota last week for some exercise. A guy named Phil DeVore trains Labs, and had some quail he was willing to share. Goodness knows, my hounds needed the work. Obviously, they still do!
Heart, who will be five years old in June, did a magnificent job pointing those birds. Very stylish, I must say. Except he was so full of himself that he simply couldn’t resist busting off after them when they flushed.
OOOPS!
And Tug, who’s fifteen months, was thoroughly confused by the circumstances and spent more time snacking on fresh cowpies than she did pointing birds.
OOOPS! OOOPS! OOOPS!
Well, Phil has a few birds left, so we’ll be back there again Thursday. I guess working with the dogs is a lot like chasing fish. Sometimes, getting everything to work just takes a little longer than you’d planned!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - December 30th, 2011 |
RECORDED: 
70 °
FISHING: Excellent
It’s always great when youngsters come fishing with their dads, moms, or grandparents.
First, of course, because it’s good to get them away from all of those infernal electronic gadgets they play with nowadays (gee, I really sound like an old fogey!).
Second, their reaction to catching fish is terrific. Such was the case a few days ago when Eric Timmons brought his son, Ethan (8), aboard my Hewes Redfisher.
Grandpa Paul Languet came along for the ride—mostly with orders from grandma Carole “to keep Ethan from falling overboard.”
Which meant that Paul kept a firm grip on the strap of Ethan’s lifejacket the whole while he stood on the stern and tossed soft plastic jigs and Gulp! shrimp into Lemon Bay.
Good thing, too, because Ethan had a wonderful time. He and dad caught a little bit of everything. Snapper, trout, ladyfish, pinfish, snook and—the most fun of the day—Ethan’s huge sailcat. It was one of those four-inch fish. As in “four inches between the eyes!”
At first, I had a hunch Ethan was snagged on the bottom vegetation. Except the line started moving at a funny angle away from the boat’s drift.
“I don’t” (gasp!) “think” (gasp!) “I can land” (gasp!) “this one!” Ethan wheezed.
So, I grabbed the rod and kept a gentle pumping action while Ethan tried mightily to reel. It took a while, but we managed to bring the big catfish to the boat.
I netted it, then had Eric use the BogaGrip to keep from getting near the cat’s poison-tipped barbules so that we could get a couple of photos.
Eric, who was tossing flies, lost several fish because of the accursed “Yankee Trout Lift.” He’s from Maine, you see, where brook trout are the staple. And, just like us guys from Michigan, he didn’t know that raising the rod tip is a Mortal Sin in salt water.
Until, like all of us who come south to fish, he lost a half-dozen or more because he tried to set the hook with the rod tip instead of using the “strip-strike.”
And then there was the last fish of the day.
We were way back in a residential canal, in a place where I figured we’d find manatees (we did), and some big jack crevalle (which we also did!). I had the Rhodan trolling motor quietly doing its thing, when a lot of thrashing commenced at the waterline of a 30-foot boat tied to a dock.
“Pitch your fly in there,” I said to Eric. He’s a pretty good caster—even though “this eight-weight feels awfully strange compared to my trout rod”—and he did as requested.
On his second strip with one of the glass minnow flies I tie, something big and strong inhaled it.
Alas, the expected epic battle was short-lived. I lost a fly and he lost a fish!
I could see that Eric was pretty disappointed, but he took the defeat with good humor. “Well,” he finally said, “I guess the big one got away.”
We’re talking about a night snook trip early next week. I don’t think he’ll let the big one get away again!
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Venice - Snook Alley - December 6th, 2011 |
RECORDED:
77 °
FISHING: Excellent
It had been an extremely frustrating summer for Ron DeLuca. Most of his favorite trout streams in Connecticut and New York had been blown out by last spring's hurrican aftermath, and he desperately needed a Fish Fix.
So, when I got his email last week saying he and Carol were down for the winter and he "really needs to fish", I mentioned that snook fishing around lighted docks in the Venice/Nokomis area was pretty darn good.
"Now that's something I've never done," Ron replied.
So, last night promptly at 6pm he stepped aboard my Hewes Redfisher and we toddled a few hundred yards north in the Intracoastal Waterway (locally simply called the ICW).
A couple of my favorite lights were dark, though. In fact, at one house the owners apparently have packed up and moved. Both boats--normally on HiDri lifts--were gone and the house looked deserted.
Ah, well. Onward, Ardent Angler!
After setting up near the Albee Road Bridge it took Ron three casts to hook his first-ever night-time snook. And, as I had predicted, it was simply the first of many, many more to follow.
Five hours later, after boating number who-knows-what, Ron unhooked the snook and grinned. "Any time you're ready, Cap, we can head for the dock."
Ten minutes later we were back at the Higel Park ramp on Venice Island.
Just another beautiful day in paradise.
C'mon down and find out for yourself!
Tight Loops, Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - November 28th, 2011 |
RECORDED: 
77 °
FISHING: Excellent
Mike Wilterdink, from Lowell, Michigan, had a bad itch for fish that needed to be scratched, and fortunately the fish in Lemon Bay and the nearshore Gulf of Mexico were in a cooperative frame of mind.
Spanish mackerel were chasing bait pods 400 yards off Englewood Beach, and we were chasing the mackerel. Occasionally, the twain met. When it did, Mike and his 14-year-old son, Chase, nailed a bunch of fish.
The most impressive strike was from a king mackerel that put a huge bend in Mike's rod, but didn't hang around long enough for us to have that ultimate Pentax Moment.
They did pretty well, though. Lots of fish came to the boat. So did nearly a dozen manatee when we were poking around in a backwater canal that's almost always been a productive place.
We had gone back there looking for juvenile tarpon, but didn't see any.
The tarpon were equally elusive today, when I took Dale Arvay and Phil Mohorich, from Cleveland, out for a short jaunt. Dale's married to Phil's sister, Karen--both of whom are Kate's cousins.
They're in Cape Coral for 10 days and we had lunch together Sunday. Naturally, I suggested that we spend a few hours on the water. Dale and Phil immdiately agreed. Karen stayed home to read a book, and Kate stayed home to edit one.
The tarpon obviously stayed home, too! Obviously, they had looked at the same weather forecast we had--which called for thunderstorms. We got 'em, too, which drove us off the water and into Stuff-A-Belly restaurant in North Port for a belated breakfast.
Ah, well. Tomorrow's another day!
Tight Loops, Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - November 22nd, 2011 |
RECORDED: 
72 °
FISHING: Excellent
Despite a front that brought heavy rain into the Venice area late last night, fishing in the Sarasota area has been exceptionally good in recent weeks.
Spanish mackerel continue to assault the barrier island beaches, and large trout are covering the inshore grass flats. Redfish are around docks and oyster bars, and even pompano and sheepshead (the “good-eat’n” kind—not the Great Lakes bottomdwellers) are showing up in good numbers.
Clouser-style flies continue to work best right now. Chartreuse-over-white, which represents whitebait—one of this area’s most common baitfish—is a real winner. Yesterday, an all-silver anchovy imitation seemed irresistible to just about everything—even a two-foot lizardfish!
The recipes for both of those are in the New Patterns dropdown. The Photo Gallery dropdown will let you view—or print out—the image.
Also tie up the Creepy Crawler for times when the tide is low and redfish are congregated around oyster bars. It’s even caught sheepshead (yes, they really do taste great—a very mild, almost sweet flavor similar to pompano).
In fact, many times when there’s a lot of roiling activity around the oyster bars it’s actually being caused by the sheepshead. Normally, they’re caught on tiny bits of shrimp and size 8 or short-shank size 6 hooks around deeper structure or dock pilings, where they do love to eat crabs.
They’re easily identifiable because of the black vertical stripes, and rows of tiny little teeth (from which they get their name) used for crushing oyster shells. But if you are inclined to eat some, don’t bother keeping anything less than four pounds because you don’t get enough meat from smaller fish in proportion to the time it takes to clean them.
Water temperature in the Gulf of Mexico was 71 degrees yesterday, and fish were very prevalent and very active. Lots of feeding activity by Spanish mackerel, but we never found any bonito (a.k.a. little tunny or albies).
There are king mackerel fairly close to the beaches, but the red grouper are farther out, in at least 60 feet of water. You can keep four of them now, if you’re inclined to drown bait on heavily-weighted jigs, but the season on gag grouper and red snapper is closed.
The spotted sea trout are closed to harvest now, too. But the usual November-December closure has been removed starting next season. There are a lot of large sea trout around—Ron Pisani caught a three-pounder yesterday while we were fishing Lemon Bay—and the fear is that the FWC’s rule changes, which will increase the commercial harvest of trout might ultimately ruin that fishery.
In its official press release, the FWC contends that “Thanks to successful spotted seatrout management, the FWC voted to increase both commercial and recreational opportunities for the popular fish.”
Commission Chairman Kathy Barco called it “a success story,” saying “what we are trying to do is be fair in a fishery that is in abundance, and in some cases way in abundance.”
In its official reply to the order, Florida Coastal Conservation Association (CCA) chairman Don Roberts applauded the continued prohibition of seine nets by commercial fishermen, whose season has been increased from three to five months (June 1 to Oct. 31) in the southwest region.
However, Jack Thorpe, a recreational angler who splits his time between Venice and Albany, NY, is particularly distressed by the increased commercial harvest of sea trout (increased to 150 fish per day on a dual-license vessel).
“I don’t like that,” he said, emphatically. “I don’t care what the biologists say. When they opened striped bass to commercial harvest in the northeast the fishery completely crashed. Whole year-classes of fish disappeared.”
Keith Tennant, a longtime Sarasota resident who works at Economy Tackle, was equally cautious in his reaction to the changes.
“On the surface, it sounds like a win-win for everybody,” he said. “But I think it’s a matter of waiting to see what happens in the long haul.”
Thorpe, on the other hand, flatly argues “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!”
In the meantime, all I can say is that fishing has been terrific.
Tight Loops, Capt. Tony
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Sarasota Bay - November 8th, 2011 |
RECORDED: 
40 °
FISHING: Excellent
With water temps still in the 70s, everybody's on the bite.
Spanish and bonito are all over the place, and King mackerel are a short run outside.
Look for redfish around oyster bars and in potholes. Plenty of big sea trout are on grass flats.
Check out the Photo Gallery and New Pattern dropdowns for tips on tying Petrella's Glass Minnow, Gospo's Commissioner Johnson, the Silver Commissioner and--if you're into fooling sheepshead with a fly--the Creepy Crawler.
The revised plan is for Kate and me to leave Michigan Sunday and be ready to fish anywhere from Tampa Bay to Charlotte Harbor within the week. So, if you have plans to be in that area over the Thanksgiving holiday, shoot off an email and we'll see about getting you into some fish!
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
I had a very unusual thing happen yesterday. Heart--my 4-year-old male--was scouring the woods near the old Deward ghost town and we were getting into a really "birdy-looking" spot.
Just then I felt something on my right hand, and looked down to see a chickadee clinging partly to the trigger guard on my Beretta and partly on my gloved finger. I said "Hello little guy" and it clamped both feet around my fingers and chirped.
At that moment, as Heart started snooping around the base of a tree, a grouse thundered off from under his nose and took off hellbent-for-election to the East.
All I could do was laugh. And whistle Heart back from his surprised mid-chase of the fleeing grouse. So, does this mean the feathered ones are in collusion?
We also have three quail--leftovers from late-summer training sessions--feeding under the sunflower feeders out front of the house. We think they're living under the porch amid the kindling and fireplace wood.
Guess I'll have to buy a big bag of oats when I drive into town later to augment the sunflower seeds for them during the winter. Looking forward to a covey of them hanging out with us!
Stay tuned for Florida updates.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - October 25th, 2011 |
RECORDED: 
40 °
FISHING: Excellent
Heart, the four-year-old, is a "circle of setter" at my feet, snoring softly. Tug, the puppy, is curled up in one corner of the "dog-sofa" but with one eye open, checking out each new sound. Every dog who’s ever owned us has gratefully snoozed upon it during the past forty years, and we simply can’t bear to part with that long leather couch.
We Three were supposed to go looking for grouse and woodcock again today. But it’s pouring rain, logs are crackling in the fireplace, and Kate’s baking her world famous chocolate chip cookies.
Is THAT a no-brainer, or what?
Too bad, though. Tug’s still euphoric over the three woodcock she pointed last Saturday. Yeah, I put them in the bag—her first wild birds!
And Heart, God Bless him, has been staying with me and hunting perfectly the last two times I had him out. He got his birds, too, and is all smiles!
My Au Sable Longboat—which will start its sixtieth season on the river next summer—is snug in the garage. The trout rods and dry flies are put away, and I even reluctantly stored my salmon vest and the nine-weights yesterday.
I had thought we might scoot up to the Boyne for one more try at the Chinook, but this weather’s too foul and the run’s tapering off anyway.
Besides, I got a couple of bright mid-sized males a couple weeks ago. They’ll eat just fine with a dill stuffing at next week’s Wild Game Dinner.
That’s our yearly gathering of nearly a score of friends and hunting pals. The eight-course feast starts with woodcock pate, smoked pheasant and French bread, moves through soup, fish, fowl, meat (with various side-dishes) and ends—after several of Kate’s desserts—with a sip of my home-brewed Hunter’s Hearth Liquor.
Then we’re off to Florida. Gosh, it seems like we just got back. And now we’re running out of woodcock and the grouse are clustering in the cedar thickets because this November-like weather has them all confused.
Oh, well. The Spanish mackerel and bonito have been absolutely assaulting the beaches off Venice and Sarasota for a month, and I guess I should pay proper respect.
Redfish and spotted sea trout have been particularly plentiful lately, too. Plus, there are all those resident tarpon stacked up in my “secret spot.”
Yeah, getting salt in my eyes and sand between my toes is starting to sound pretty good.
I talked with Rick Pope yesterday. He said Temple Fork Outfitters is chugging right along with its popular mix of fly rods and conventional casting sticks, and told me he’d be happy to send down some TFO ballcaps for me to give away at the “Saltwater Rookie Schools” I’m cranking up this winter. The first one’s November 26, at Cook’s Sportland. Noon to 4pm.
Perhaps when Rick gets down to Tampa for the Florida Sportsman’s Show he and Lefty, and maybe Flip, will have a day to spend on my Hewes Redfisher.
Seems like forever since we’ve each had the time to actually go fishing, let alone together!
By the way, it appears the snook are rebounding nicely from the fierce cold-weather die-off that happened two years ago. If you’ve never experienced “Snooking Under The Lights” it’s something you ought to try.
Thirty or forty 18-t0-24-inch fish-on in three hours is a real hoot. If you can dig up a copy of Fly Fisherman magazine from March 2007 I had a big spread in there about the whole deal, including fly patterns you can tie.
Or, you can go to the dropdowns on the Tight Loops website and read all about it. Patterns and pictures, too!
Dang, it’s still pouring out there. Well, at least it’s not solid and white.
Hmmm. The delicious aroma of fresh cookies is wafting upstairs from the kitchen. Maybe I’ll go sneak a couple.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Manistee River - October 15th, 2011 |
RECORDED:
50 °
FISHING: Excellent
MICHIGAN
Chinook salmon have been the focal point in northwest Michigan rivers for more than a month, and with very good reason. The fish are larger than at any time since the mid-90s, and also are exceptionally plentiful this year.
Why? Nobody knows for certain, but a rich biomass of food in Lake Michigan is what the biologists believe. And, since they’re supposed to know more about it than me, I’ll take their word for it until proven otherwise.
My clients have certainly enjoyed Cast & Blast days chasing grouse early, then switching to salmon when the air temps made it too tough on the dogs.
Andy Adamo wasn’t fortunate enough to hook up the afternoon he was tossing flies at them, but Loren Larson nailed a bunch of them last week.
“This is super,” he said after beaching his third or fourth fish (he and I both lost count of how many he tickled, but it must have been close to a dozen). “I haven’t had this much fun since I was in Alaska!”
His pal, Scott Nelson, wasn’t as fortunate with the king salmon, but he already had “made his mark” on the day by dropping a couple of woodcock over his Vizla, Riley.
“Actually, it’s my daughter’s dog,” he admitted, “except for a couple of months during the fall when I get to use him on birds.”
Loren had driven to Chicagoland from Iowa to pick up his old buddy, and come through The Yoop to Michigan’s Grouse Capitol--Grayling. The only problem was, they were having trouble pinpointing birds.
“We got your name from a guy at the tackle shop (Skip’s),” Loren said when he called. “He told us you could put us on birds.”
Which is precisely what happened last Wednesday morning.
They didn’t shoot any that day, but birds were flying and the guys were happy.
“Can we do this again tomorrow morning?” Loren asked as we lounged at the trucks after our morning walk.
Yep.
And the following morning we put up three grouse and eleven woodcock before heading to the Boyne for salmon.
David Lang is in town from Indiana, and we were supposed to be pounding through the grouse coverts even as my fingers glide over these keys.
But high winds (which knocked out our power at four this morning) and driving rain put the kibosh on THAT plan. At least, until we see what happens later this afternoon. If things settle down, we’ll be able to walk in the woods during the “Golden Hour” before dusk when the grouse are doing their end-of-day feed.
Fortunately, Dave’s here tomorrow and Monday, and the weather’s supposed to be perfect for grouse hunting: a minimal prospect of rain (but still damp), with temps in the mid-40s.
FLORIDA
Spanish mackerel, tunny, trout, and redfish are all hot, hot, hot nearshore and in the backcountry right now.
King mackerel are staging in deeper water, along with amberjack and even some sailfish. Grouper are in 80 feet of water over reefs and structure, but the grouper season closes Nov. 14.
Which is just when Kate and I expect to be back in Venice!
I have a few days open here in Michigan at the very end of October and during the first week of November if you can get away for grouse (don’t forget that woodcock season closes Nov. 6th).
If that doesn’t work, perhaps some time in the sun chasing those saltwater species (plus some resident tarpon in my “secret spot”) might fit into your holiday plans.
The Best Western Ambassador Suites at the 193 exit off I-75 in Venice gives my clients super rates for a huge room with two queen-sized beds.
And don’t ever forget what Sparse Gray Hackle wrote more than 80 years ago: “The fish do not rise in Greenlawn Cemetery.”
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Manistee River - September 28th, 2011 |
RECORDED:
63 °
FISHING: Excellent
I’ve mostly been working Heart and the puppy—Tug—in grouse coverts, but Sam Nouhan came up this week and decided that a “Cast & Blast” would be fun. We got washed out by thunderstorms on Monday, so he went to Traverse City and tended to some business, and I dropped off the Tahoe in Grayling for some maintenance. Tuesday found us in the woods after a heavy fog finally dissipated. Tug—who will be a year old next week—worked first, and did a great job covering ground. She’s showing a lot of Ghost’s hunting drive. Found no birds in the wet conditions, though. We drove a mile to another spot and Victor Edwards put his year-old Lab pup—Hank—on the ground. Still no joy. Finally, Tug located a woodcock that flew up over my head, preventing Sam from taking a shot. At that point it was getting hot, so we came back to Tap-A-Wing-It and traded hunting duds for waders, boots, and fly rods. Conditions were almost perfect. Pleasant weather, lots of Chinook salmon, and a moderate flow of water even after the heavy rain. We didn’t have to walk the bank very far before I spotted a pod of males hovering around a hen that was fanning gravel for a nest. And Sam went to work. It was tough casting, since the river is barely more than a creek, with plenty of overhanging cedar boughs. It’s a gorgeous spot, though, and Kate loves to wade it in hip boots for trout during the summer. Sam got into his casting rhythm and was drifting a variety of fly patterns over the fish holding in mid-current. We tinkered with patterns and weight until finally one of them got hooked. Unfortunately, it was imbedded near the tail. So, I grabbed the line and broke off. First cast with a new, white-body streamer—brought a strike. It was a huge male, and very brightly silver-colored. One thrash of its big head tossed the fly right back into Sam’s face. “Big fish!” he said, after regaining his composure. “Very big,” I agreed. “He was nearly as silver as a steelhead!” After losing another cleanly-hooked fish, Sam finally drilled one that put up one heckuva fight in the narrow confines of the river. Sam did a great job holding it tight, though, and after fifteen minutes (“It seemed like an hour,” Sam said on the drive home) I tailed the fish and flopped it onto the bank. Sam, also flopped onto the bank, as exhausted as that 10-pound Chinook. “I was just glad I didn’t have to tail YOU,” I told Sam later. “I’m a pretty tough guy, but I don’t think I could have managed THAT.” Sam has one of those fancy phones that does everything except make calls, so he promptly emailed photos to his 15-year-old son, Mitch, who has become a fly fishing fanatic in his own right. In fact, it’s highly probable that Sam and Mitch will be on the Boyne with me on October 8, pitching flies at those big Kings. If river-fishing for trout is more your style, October can be a great month for that, too, on the Manistee and Au Sable fly-only water, which is open year-round. Muddler-type streamers in smaller sizes tend to be the most productive. We also can get Baetis hatches and spinner falls, and even some late Isonychia. So, as we used to say in the Boy Scouts: Be Prepared! Tight Loops,Capt. Tony
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