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Lemon Bay - May 4th, 2008 |
RECORDED: 
81 °
FISHING: Excellent
MAY 4, 2008 MICHIGAN I brought Kate, Ghost, and Heart back to Michigan last week and what a whirlwind it’s been! I spent the first two days getting the house put back together—removing vizqueen window coverings and installing screens; sweeping up thousands of dead ladybugs and flies (somebody please tell me where the duece they COME from!); cleaning out the garage so I could get to the riverboat for yesterday’s float trip. You know—“fun stuff.” Next came the vehicle days—a spring tuneup for Kate’s Jeep to make sure it’s running right during the next two months that I’ll be chasing tarpon (more on that in a minute), then a new blower motor for my Tahoe. Tomorrow, it’s the setters’ turn. Spring Tuneup time for Ghost—who’ll be 11 years old on the 15th—and Heart—who’ll be 11 MONTHS old on the 13th. If Kate lets him live that long! This puppy is SOME piece of work! Absolutely EVERYTHING has to be tasted, tested, torn, dragged through the house, and generally given a thorough examination. In fact, one of the first things I did when we got back to Deward was “Puppy-Proof” the house. For instance, I have the December 11, 1941 edition of the St. Louis Post -Dispatch “WAR EXTRA” proclaiming war on Berlin and Tokyo—among many other old newspapers. PRESTO! Up into a closet until the pup’s curiosity settles down. He’s gonna be one heck of a bird dog, though! He’s very intelligent, watches everything Ghost does, and is quickly focusing in on his field commands. By the time grouse season opens Sept, 15, I think he’ll be just fine! OK—back to the fishing! Did a float trip down the Au Sable yesterday with Jim Sansoterra and his son, Mark. Originally from Detroit’s Grosse Pointes, Jim retired to San Jose four years ago. Mark, who followed Dad into the investment banking business, is in downtown Chicago “and I only fish once a year, so bear with me.” It had rained hard the previous two days, so the river was swollen and tanic. Perfect streamer conditions, although we did get a pretty fair smattering of Hendricksons and black caddis just before we pulled out at McMasters Bridge around 4pm. No rises, however. Which was very unfortunate, since Mark finally had “dialed-in” his casting stroke and was tossing a pretty nice line. Weather forecast is so-so for the next few days. Fishing Tuesday, though, then again Thursday with Mark Noel and his dad. I think we’ll hit the fly-only water between M72 and CCC Bridge. With luck, the water will be dropping by then (unless the weather-pukes get it right and we get more rain Tuesday and Wednesday) and we’ll do the dry-fly thingy for which the Manistee is so famed. Without luck, it’s Streamerville! FLORIDA Capt. John’s been having shots at a lot of tarpon, but to use National Football League jargon most of his clients had the PUP problem—Physically Unable to Perform. “They just couldn’t make the cast,” he told me a few minutes ago. “We did run up into the Myakka River, and back into a little creek by the West Wall and caught some baby poons in the 15 to 20-pound class and they were cool with that. “We also got some huge snook along the West Wall (the head of Charlotte Harbor where the Myakka meets the Peace River flowing in from the East), and caught redfish and trout in the Myakka Cutoff (behind Hog Island). “We got into some really big snook under the lights early in the morning, so the guys were pretty happy. “There were a pretty fair number of poons in Gasparilla Pass early in the morning but we never hooked up on one. Saw some hookups, though.” I talked with Capt. KO after getting off the line with John, and he told me that Lemon Bay—as it has been most of this season—has been excellent. “There are large schools of big redfish cruising the Bay,” he said, “but you’ve gotta hunt ‘em. They keep moving north and south, east and west. But when you find them, brother it’s great! “There are tarpon offr Manasota Key. Again, you’ve gotta look for them. But the pods hold a hundred or more fish. And they’re eaters.” “Another thing nobody’s talking about very much are the little tunny (false albacore) that are hanging around Boca Pass (The Battleground). Guys have been coming into the bait shop, where I work part-time, talking about it. “Throw anything that’s white and you’ll be into fish. These guys said they caught tunny till their arms fell off!” In case you’ve never had the pleasure of hooking a false albacore, these fish truly are a fly angler’s dream come true. I absolutely LOVE ‘em. People always ask me what’s my favorite fish to catch. “Well, tarpon, of course,” I reply. “Then I guess it’s a toss-up between jack crevalle and little tunny.” Both are vicious and voracious—so it’s an absolute bar-room brawl when you get into “poundage” fish. Both run in schools, so you usually hook the proverbial “boatload.” Neither are very edible, so after carefully keeping their very sharp teeth away from fingers, toes (if they slither from your grasp), or other important personal body parts they are gratefully released. The thing that sets them apart is the way they fight once hooked. Jacks are like Rocky Marsciano. They come out swinging and they keep slugging it out with you until somebody simply can’t take it any more. BANG! BING! BANG! Under the boat. Around the trolling motor shaft. Slicing against the trim tabs. Anything to wear out an under-gunned or under-musceled angler. Tunny, on the other hand—well, let me tell you about one that Tom Spence hooked. Tom and his son were down from Minneapolis and it was just before Christmas and they REALLY wanted to fish and the tunny were running just outside Stump Pass. Except the waves were ALSO really running. Tough fishing, but we could see baitfish body parts flying through the air and birds diving and water churning. Except standing still and making a decent was was nearly impossible. Tom was holding onto the poling platform. Not quite green, mind you, but looking a bit “uncomfortable.” Then it happened. A huge school of tunny materialized 10 feet behind the boat, thrashing the water like an out-of-sync washing machine. “Cast, Tom!” I yelled. He did. And a tunny immediately ate the olive-over-white lead-eye fly I’d tied on for him. Within 15 seconds, Tom’s reel was into the backing. One hundred and five feet of Royal Wulff Bermuda Triangle saltwater line had vanished that fast. “Oh, my God!” he said. “I can’t. I mean…I can’t, stop…this fish.” It was like a serious bonefish launching off Contents Key. I threw the Hewes into gear and we gave chase. Tom finally got some fly line onto the reel and looked smug. “He’s done for now,” he said confidently. ZZZZZZZZZZZZ. The tunny had “sounded.” True, were were only in 23 feet of water, but line kept peeling off the reel. Tom kept cranking. “Got him,” he said. ZZZZZZZZZZZZ. The tunny sounded again. And again. And, yes, again. It took 25 minutes for Tom to land that 9-pound, 24-inch fish. I’ll be back in Venice the evening of May 11. Wanna go fishing? Tight Loops, Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - April 11th, 2008 |
RECORDED:
83 °
FISHING: Excellent
APRIL 11, 2008
FLORIDA
Tarpon came up! Tarpon went down!
Spanish ate a fly, Spanish went away!
LOTS of nice redfish, though. And BIIIIIGGGGG snook cruising the mangroves in Lemon Bay. I’m talking double-digit-POUNDAGE fish. And the redfish are pretty darn big, too.
Okay. That’s the general overview.
Now for the specifics.
Ever since Capt. John boated a 150-pound poon a bit over a week ago, we’ve been looking and looking and looking.
John Freeland, one of my longtime regulars, was with me off Casperson Beach last week and we SAW some deep fish (down in 21 feet of water), but they wouldn’t take a fly—even on a sink-tip line.
We hooked a couple shark, though, and that was a lot of fun while it lasted—which wasn’t very long, frankly. But one of them ate a 12-inch trout that we’d hooked right NEXT to the boat!!
Neat to see it inhale the trout, swirl and Biiiiiiiiiiiig!!! go away that fast. I guess, in hindsight, the trout wasn’t all that thrilled with the way things went down. Tough when you’re the baitfish in life rather than the top dog!
I fished Jeff Kesling, a dentist from Boise, on Wednesday in Sarasota Bay and we scored a smallish Spanish, some ladyfish, several largish sailcats, and a miscellany of other things.
Since his conference didn’t start for another couple days, he split a trip in Lemon Bay with one of my regular clients, Bill Riccardi, and they had a very nice time catching a lot of different fish.
Especially one respectable redfish out of the several they had shots at—and lost—along with shots at some VERY large snook. This was a Guide’s Workout Day. I poled the boat around the mangroves and docks and oyster bars for a couple of hours, sight-fishing for a bunch of big “Loners.”
Finally, the guys opted to give me a rest, and we drifted the deeper grass flat for trout, ladyfish and a couple small jacks. We ran up to Fork Creek for a while, but it seemed barren. So, we ran back south and hammered a few more fish before it was Game Over.
I took Mark Goodnight and his son, Caleb, out looking for tarpon this morning but Casperson let us down. Sort of.
We didn’t hook any tarpon or shark, but there was a plethora (dontcha just LOVE that word?) of other fish—including a four-pound Spanish that Caleb played beautifully.
I really thought that was the harbinger of GREAT things to come. I immediately envisioned swarms of Spaniards, Kings and bonito literally attacking my Hewes Redfisher. Alas, it was not to be!
Finally admitting defeat, we ran back inside the Venice Jetty and went north to catch a bunch of ladyfish, which Caleb thought was great fun. They caught singles, they caught doubles. We laughed with the easy good humor of a pleasant day of fish-catching.
Mark, a Realtor from Charlotte, and Caleb, a junior at a branch of UNC, are back off to North Carolina Sunday. But Mark, who’s fished with me before (his parents bought a condo on The Island 30 years ago), left with a warning.
“This May, I’m comin’ back for tarpon,” he said. “Plan on it!”
Okay, Mark. I will!!!
MICHIGAN
Deward is 34 degrees with a light rain. The southern part of the state has a tornado watch. Guess this isn’t the best possible day to look for rising brown trout on the Manistee!
At least “most” of the snow is gone. I’m sure we’ll have three-foot-high piles of slush in the jackpines when I take Kate and the dogs back a week from now.
Hard to believe we’ll be “Home” in 10 days! Then, after about another ten, I’ll be back in Florida doing a SERIOUS Tarpon Tangle.
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Heart is learning to type! At least, I think that’s why he keeps nudging my hands while I’m trying to get this update written. On the other hand (literally) he might be looking for crumbs of the biscuits we just ate with my world famous (Kate says so, anyway!) minestrone soup.
Ghost continues to “monitor” the pup’s daily activities. Whenever Kate yells, “Heart, LEAVE IT,” Ghost literally springs into action and lets the “little” guy know he screwed up—again.
They’re getting along magnificently, though. I marvel daily at how well Ghost has accepted this interloper. Thank goodness for THAT!
Day off tomorrow, then a casting clinic at Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters with Dusty Sprague before I fish the O’Laughlin family again on Monday, then Mike Biviano and his dad, Dave, on Tuesday.
Gotta let Ghost in, so I’ll keep you posted on how the fishing’s been!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - April 1st, 2008 |
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
APRIL 1, 2008
FLORIDA
FINALLY!!! (I hope!) The Relentless Winter of ’08 just MIGHT be coming to an end. At least, down here on the Gulf Coast.
Forecasts of 80-degree days, and nights in the mid-60s, should finally keep water temperatures consistently in the mid-to-high 70s. That means the long-awaited migration of Spanish and King mackerel, along with those marvelous bonito, finally will come to beaches near us.
While obviously not as brutal as conditions in the Midwest and Northeast—where snow and ice have battered winter-weary citizens all through March—southwest Florida had its own lingering winter.
Because the water temps kept bouncing up and down like a basketball, every day on the water was an adventure.
In my last report, I wrote of the Harnett Family adventure. Dave and sons Matt and Trevor caught about 75 fish in the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) around Venice and Nokomis in about four hours.
Quite a day, eh?
Since then, results have been up and down.
For instance, Dave D’Angelo and his son, Tom, managed only a couple of snook and a jack crevalle on his night trip with me, and the next day Tony Mollish, his son Tony, and friend Bill Gamber, didn’t fare much better in Lemon Bay. At least, I don’t consider a half-dozen fish a spectacular outing.
On the other hand, two days later—after heavy wind postponed my trip with Jay Ricketts—John Kimpel, Peter Kennedy, and Skip Cutrell nailed a bunch of snook and a few small sea bass.
Three days after that, again after strong wind and rain, Rod Peters, his son Anthony, and HIS wife, Andrea, had a lot of fun boating a pompano that was barely within the 20-inch slot limit, one “rat” redfish, a sheepshead, and a whole BUNCH of ladyfish.
And yes, boys and girls, that means Lemon Bay is back on a hot streak again!
George Elsener and his son “King George” got into a bunch of ladyfish the following day, then Tony Newman, his son Tony (who I nicknamed TJ to avoid confusion), and Jerry Brantner tore up Lemon Bay’s ladyfish. Pompano, snapper, sea bass, and even a sea robin added to the mix.
Lon Sears and his son, Trent, along with pal (I’m NOT making this up!) Rusty Buick didn’t fare so well that evening in the ICW, however.
We were looking for snook—and found them. It’s just that the only three we managed to put hooks into never got into the boat. The one thing we DID land, though, is a VERY weird creature that not even the expert Fish & Wildlife biologists could identify for me!
Perhaps someone has a name to put with this reddish-brown invertebrate that moves along the surface of the water at night by flapping a sort of, well, flap of “skin.”
After a rather merciful day off, I was back in Lemon Bay with George Gernot, who’s married to one of Kate’s oldest and dearest friends, Luci. Longtime readers of these scribbles might remember that last summer Kate, Luci, and another old pal, Diane Ford held their own ??th class reunion.
George dubbed their meeting in Pennsylvania’s “antiques country” the Girls Gone Wild weekend. Well, it certainly wasn’t as wild as the “real” GGW—at least that’s what they insisted when they got back home—but they admitted to have had lots of laughs.
Anyway, Luci was in Orlando for a school administrator’s convention so she arranged a day on the water with me for George. “I don’t care if we even catch a single fish,” George said. “I’m just grateful to be away from the phones, and not listening to the worst aspects of humanity.”
George, you see, is a divorce lawyer!
So, it was with great glee that he lathered his pale Irish skin with a couple bucketsful of SPF45, then reeled in fish after fish after fish.
“Let’s go home,” he finally said. “Luci and I want to take you two to dinner.” And the ribs at Gold Rush, on the Island of Venice, were excellent, I’ll have you know.
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of introducing Kiefer (15) and Tierin (14) O’Connor, along with their grandfather, Lawrence O’Connor, to the wonderful art of fly fishing.
Their grandmother, Maggie—who’s also a fly angler—arranged the trip especially for the boys, who are on a 16-day spring break from their studies in Winnipeg.
We spent two hours next to the shop (Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters) casting on dry land before launching the boat at the Casey Key ramp to poke around the ICW.
It was tough going with the fly rods because of the wind, so finally the boys started chucking spin gear and ultimately doubled-up. Tierin ended with one fish on fly and four on spin. Kiefer managed two fish.
Grandpaw Lawrence waved the fly rod around some, but mostly was interested in watching the lads land fish. I’m not sure about Kiefer, but Tierin DEFINITELY is now into fishing.
“We hardly ever fished before,” he said at one point, apologizing for a line snarl that quickly came unsnarled. “This is neat. I’ve caught more fish today than I’ve ever caught in my life.”
And I “caught” a new angler!
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Ghost continues to display extraordinary patience with the “puppy,” despite the fact that Heart—who will be 10 months old soon—continues to ravage the house on a more or less constant basis.
Poor Kate spends at least two hours every day trying to wear out “The Heartless Maniac” so she can get to work. And Ghost spends at least twice that amount of time monitoring the pup’s indiscretions.
Like a couple minutes ago. While Kate was editing her latest book project, and I was working on this report, Heart decided to pull a clam shell full of shark teeth off an end table.
“Mr. Flyswatter” provided the initial “no-no-bad-dog” reproof, followed by Ghost’s imperious glare.
The little guy is an absolute HOOT though, and it’s impossible to stay mad at him. But at least the learning curve is getting shorter. At least, we certainly HOPE it is!
MICHIGAN
Temps are creeping into the low 40s. Maybe the snow will even be gone when I take Kate and the dogs back home in three weeks.
Unless something drastic happens, though, it’s going to be a mighty chilly Trout Opener on April 26. All of the fly-only stretches are open year-round, so if we get one of those sunny 60-degree days you’ll see BWOs and probably some black stones popping.
I’ve got a couple of trips booked up there before I head back south to guide tarpon anglers, but it’s not too soon to start booking dates in Michigan. I have some days open around the opener, and the ‘Hopper Heaven Days of July and August are my favorites of the year!
MONTANA
Capt. John tells me the lower Madison below Ennis Lake is getting hatches of Baetis and midges right now.
The water between Varney and Ennis is fishable, and the stretch below McAtee Bridge is producing fish on stonefly nymphs and bead-head nymphs.
“It’ll be May before we have the blowout,” Capt. John said. “Then the water will be unfishable until mid-June. I’m looking for the big stonefly hatch on July 4 unless we get an unusually warm May.”
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - March 18th, 2008 |
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
MARCH 18, 2008
FLORIDA
Brothers, sisters, in-laws, outlaws, even babes-in-arms trooped down to the boat ramp at Higel Park on the Island of Venice Saturday morning.
All to watch “Dad” (Dave Harnett) get the surprise of his 60-year-old life!
“Hey, Doc,” I yelled, while casually leaning back on the console seat of my Hewes Redfisher 18, with my feet propped up on the casting deck. “You wanna go fishing?”
Naturally, he looked around at everyone. Puzzled by the question. “But in my head, just before you said that, I was thinking to myself—there’s a charter captain waiting for his client,” Dave told me later.
“Sure you do!” I continued. “Because I’m your birthday present. Well, not ME, really. The boat. C’mon. Let’s go fishin’.” At which point everyone broke out in a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday.”
Dave dutifully hopped on board along with his youngest child, Matt (who had booked the trip), and eldest child, Trevor (there are two sisters separating them) and off we went.
Nearly five hours later, they were back at the dock with tired arms and happy smiles. It was mercifully one of those no-brainer days in the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) around Venice.
Without the need to exaggerate one iota I can tell you that the three of them boated 70 fish (“I’d says more like 75,” Matt proclaimed), mostly using the jigs I’d tied using my “Champagne Gobi” fly pattern. You can look it up on the Photo Gallery and New Fly Pattern dropdowns.
But it was such a crazy day that Matt kept hooking fish (they were mostly all ladyfish) even when the jig he was using had been shredded to the point where it was a bare hook.
“They even chewed the red paint off the head,” Matt crowed. “Man, this is unbelievable! I’ve NEVER had a day of fishing like this!”
Ah, the words a guide loves to hear. Especially since Matt continued, “since Dad has the condo here (since 1979), you’ll be seeing a lot of us over the next 30 or 40 years!”
Uh-huh. MORE music to a guide’s ears!
Earlier in the week, Charlie Wells and his son, Bruce, had fun playing with spotted sea trout in Lemon Bay before Bruce had to fly off to London, where he works three weeks out of each month.
“It gets hectic sometimes,” he said, “but London’s a great place and the people are really nice. Except some of the older folks still grumble that us Canadians and you Yanks should still be part of the Empire.
“I don’t hear that from the younger people, but it amazes me to hear the 80-somethings say that.”
He also mentioned that a half-day of fishing in England costs $600USD! CRIKEY, mate! “And finding a place to fish is pretty hard even at that.”
Strong wind forced me to keep Bob Strayton and his son Rob inside Fork Creek for most of our trip the following day, but the snook and snapper co-operated nicely so everybody had a good time.
Bob had planned a trip with me last month with his son-in-law Bruce, but once I got out into Gasparilla Sound the boat was rocking like a yo-yo we went home.
Steve Sherman joined me on his fourth annual outing on Thursday. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted a shot at redfish, trout, and pompano during the day, or snook under the lights. So, we did both!
Steve, who was absolutely THRILLED to get away from the massive snowfall Syracuse has been hit with this winter, met me at 3pm and we headed to Lemon Bay.
After boating a variety of species we drove to Casey Key and dropped the boat into “Snook Alley,” where he caught a very feisty jack crevalle before getting into the snook.
Mike Thomas, who was another victim of mechanical failure (the helm on my steering failed), and then high winds the previous Sunday, brought his pal Ken Ayres along this time and they also hooked a wide variety of fish in Lemon Bay.
Sunday was a lot of fun. My Florida vet, Dean Ebert, brought his 12-year-old daughter, Natasha, in search of redfish. Dean (“I want FOOD”) grew up in Poland, Ohio, not far from my home town of Niles.
Must be that Youngstown Thing. Dean doesn’t see the logic in spending time and gasoline fishing or diving if you’re going to come home empty-handed.
“Now we’ve gotta stop at Publix before going home,” he said as we parted at the Indian Mounds ramp.
“Well, here’s what you do,” I replied. “Take Natasha into the store with you. Get the fish out of the case and toss it to her. That way, when you get home you can truthfully say yep—she caught it.”
Natasha giggled. Dean just smiled.
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Heart celebrated his nine-month “birthday” last week. MAN did he celebrate. Of course, that’s really nothing unique.
He bounces off the walls. He jumps over my comfy chair-and-ottoman. He even has been seen using the living room coffee table as a launching pad onto the futon.
Ghost, who I had feared would have long-since shredded this interloper, mostly takes it all in stride. Occasionally, she gets exasperated and head-butts him the way she did when he was a mere pup.
But the FUNNIEST thing is when Heart grabs a sofa pillow or something and Kate tells her, “Ghost! Get him!” At which point she runs over and glares at Heart until he abashedly drops whatever contraband he’s been illegally chewing.
Then she either menaces him for a few seconds, or chases him around the house until he drops onto the carpet and rolls over onto his back.
What makes it particularly hilarious is the fact that he’s now taller and heavier than she is. He even jumps clear over her back when they’re tussling in the back yard. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how long this routine continues.
But those of you who know Ghost are aware that she’ll never back down. Ever.
Well, I’ve got to tie some flies and jigs for tonight’s snook trip.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - February 26th, 2008 |
RECORDED: 
76 °
FISHING: Excellent
FEBRUARY 26, 2008
FLORIDA
YIPPEEEEEE! Sam Povinelli finally got his “food” Sunday morning, thank goodness!
Those of you who are long-time readers of these fishing reports know that Sam and his son, Ron, have fished with me pretty regularly for the past couple of years.
And, beginning with Sam’s 91st birthday present trip, Sam has focused upon one immutable goal each outing: Catching Dinner.
“You better find us some food, Tony,” said Sam, who turned 93 two days before our latest trip, when we met at the Books-A-Million parking lot Sunday morning. “Rose is still mad at you.” Rose is his 88-year-old wife (who also fished with me on her 86th birthday).
His son, Ron, looked at me and shook his head. “You KNOW you can’t win,” he said. HIS son, Ron junior, just grinned.
Well, turns out I DID win. Sort of. With an assist from Ron. Who looked at me and whispered, “You realize I saved your ass!” as we were heading back to the ramp with a just-keeper spotted sea trout and a three-pound bluefish.
See, I had planned on getting some live shrimp for Sam to toss (this was strictly a spin-fishing trip). But although Ron prefers to cast a fly rod, he’s also an excellent spin-angler, and had run over to West Marine for a little tub of the new Gulp New Penny artificial shrimp.
“This something new,” Ron told me, “and I’ve never seen an artificial bait attract fish like this stuff.”
Turns out, he was right. That’s what the guys used, and that’s what caught the various species that we boated—including the two keepers that SAM hooked and landed.
I haven’t heard yet how Rose prepared the bluefish, but Sam assured me that she has a recipe “that’s delicious.”
“Okay, Tony,” Sam said as they climbed off my Hewes Redfisher, “I’ll tell Rose not to be mad at you any more. Maybe you DO know where the (edible) fish are!”
I grinned and looked at Ron. “Want me to dress those fish?”
He looked at Sam, who was slowly walking down the dock, then looked back at me. “Naw! Let HIM clean them.” Just then the bluefish lurched and Ron added, “I just hope it doesn’t BITE him. Neither one of us would ever hear the end of THAT.”
Oh, yeah! Probably the BEST part of the trip was when I walked to the end of the dock to say goodbye to Sam.
"So, you gonna give me a free trip on my hundreth birthday?" he asked with an absolutely straight face.
Ron's shoulders slumped and he shook his head.
I grinned and replied, "absolutely, Sam. And I'll be looking forward to it!"
The day before, Ellen and John Cheesborough, from Raliegh, NC joined me and Ellen had a blast catching snook and ladyfish in and around Lemon Bay. John got in on the act, too.
The only disappointment was that the baby tarpon that hang out in one of my favorite spots decided they didn't want to participate in the day's fun.
Ah, well. Such is the life of a fishing guide.
Yesterday, Jay Tinley joined me in Lemon Bay, intent on catching redfish. So, that’s precisely what we did. Sort of. See, Jay only boated one. But we saw plenty, including a very large one that looked as orange as a goldfish!
There were plenty of BIG snook around the mangroves, too.
After poling the skiff around the shallows for a couple of hours, we went into deeper water and Jay landed trout and ladyfish until I suggested we go look for pompano near Stump Pass.
We only hooked one, but I later found out from one of Englewood’s commercial fisherman (who supplies fresh fish to several area restaurants) that “The Gut” of the Pass was absolutely loaded with Pompano.
We’ve got a harsh cold front moving in that’s supposed to drive daytime temps down into the low 60s, so I don’t plan on getting back onto the water until Saturday.
I’ll be meeting Bob Fanter, from Des Moines, and his son-in-law at the Kingfish ramp up on Anna Maria Island around noon. The air and water should be nice and warm again by then, and the fish should be in an eatin’ kinda mind.
I hope!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - February 22nd, 2008 |
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
FEBRUARY 22, 2008
FLORIDA
We’ve been catching a really varied “bag” of fish in Lemon Bay the past week, along with a widely varied “bag” of anglers from across the country.
This week began with Jerry Gatlin, from Austin, and Bob Towe, from San Francisco. Jerry’s only been fly fishing since mid-December, so he spent most of the trip working on casting skills.
Jerry originally was from Nashville, so naturally I asked him if he was one of “those” Gatlin’s.
“Naw,” he replied. “I can’t sing worth a darn.”
“Don’t feel bad,” I said. “My father-in-law always said I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Called me a bar room Baritone. But I’m always enthusiastic.”
Bob, whose knee replacements kept him sitting a lot more than fishing, was mostly content to watch Jerry. He did catch a couple of jack crevalle, though, just to prove to Jerry it could be done on a fly.
The following day found Team Erb in the boat. Fred and his son, Scott, joined Uncle Jack, who’d booked the outing as a break in their polo matches up in Sarasota.
They were tossing flies and jigs in all my favorite haunts, but the morning started off slowly. Then the Boys from Memphis caught fire. Jack nailed a fat 21-inch trout first, and Scott caught a carbon copy minutes later.
After Jack boated a very fat pompano, Fred went on a spree. Within minutes, he landed a flounder, catfish, lane snapper, spotted trout, jack crevalle, blue runner, and a gob of what we all agreed HAD to be porpoise poop!
The guys ended the day with about 25 fish, and agreed that Lemon Bay is a very fine place indeed!
Well, it is when the wind isn’t howling. As Tom Newman found out on Tuesday. We poked around all the Best Places but the fish simply did NOT want to co-operate.
Tom caught a handful of fish, but conditions were tough, to say the least!
Wednesday, The Three Stooges, as Peg Pisani dubbed them, joined me on the Myakka River for a Tarpon Hunt. This was Ron’s retirement present from Peggy, and Ray O’Connell and Jack Thorpe tagged along to join their old buddy in the fun.
Ron, Ray, and Jack have all fished together—and with me—many times over the years, so it was a raucous time on the water.
The guys strictly wanted to chase baby tarpon, so that’s what we did. Found them, too. Except the fish refused to participate in the adventure. Which didn’t particularly bother the boys, I might add.
“Hey, this is what we wanted to do—chase tarpon,” Ron said when we had loaded my Hewes Redfisher back onto the trailer. “We saw some, we had shots. Believe it or not, we had fun.”
The highlight (lowlight?) of the morning was Ron’s epic battle with a denizen of the deep he hadn’t anticipated—a tree branch. Pentax Moments were observed to record the event for posterity.
Yesterday, it was Steve Walker’s time at-bat. Steve’s from Cincinnati, and fished with me in Michigan last summer. The wind was blowing pretty hard out of the east, however, and his day was a lot like Tom Newman’s—lots of casting for a handful of fish.
He, like Fred Erb, did land a varied bag—a couple of lane snapper, a red snapper, a feisty ladyfish, and even a small gag grouper. Capt. Gospo’s Commissioner Johnson fly on a Royal Wulff sink-tip line saved the day.
I’ve got Bob Strayton and his son down in Charlotte Harbor later today, then John Cheesborough tomorrow.
Sunday should be a real hoot. Ron Povinelli, from Indianapolis, has booked a half-day for his son, and his 92-year-old dad, Sam.
“You know Dad,” Ron wrote in an e-mail yesterday. “He wants to catch FOOD. Get him SOMETHING to eat or you’ll never hear the end of it!”
The first time I took Ron and Sam fishing they must have boated 50 fish in a foggy half-day morning. The only problem was the majority were ladyfish, and the trout were under the slot size.
The NEXT time I took Sam fishing was as a birthday present for his then-86-year-old wife, Rose. Her sister, Jeannette (82), joined us in Gasparilla Bay for that outing, and once again they each caught everything except table fare.
So, the pressure’s on!
Keep your fingers crossed for me!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - February 16th, 2008 |
RECORDED:
74 °
FISHING: Excellent
FEBRUARY 16, 2008
FLORIDA
Lemon Bay continues to impress me, along with the anglers I take to the quaint old fishing village of Englewood to launch from the Indian Mounds ramp.
Ron Boem, on of my regulars from Bradenton, brought his pals, Andy DiPaolo and Victor Meena, “down south” a week ago and we absolutely NAILED some big snook, trout, and ladyfish in the Bay.
Which is good, since Andy flew all the way out here from Palo Alto, where he’s a muckety-muck at Stanford. Victor had a shorter trip, driving down from Orlando, where he’s vice president of human resources for Universal Studios.
It was an enjoyable day for everyone. They caught fish, laughed at my jokes (“Make sure you have some new ones next time,” Victor admonished me!), and nobody fell out of the boat.
It was great!
Oddly enough, Andy and Victor were the primary “pole-benders.” Ron, who lives here year-round and has fished with me several times, was mostly an observer.
Not that it mattered to him. He was happy to see his old college chums catching fish.
Let’s hope that “streak” continues when we chase tarpon come May!
We did another casting clinic the following day at Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters, the shop in Nokomis that I guide out of. A dozen fly anglers and wanna-bes showed up and fortunately most of them wanted help on casting in the wind.
A good thing, since it was blowin’ hard.
Dusty Sprague, a Master Instructor and member of the Casting Board of Governors for the Federation of Fly Fishers, did most of the work. Mark Stevens and I, both FFF Certified Casting Instructors, pitched in with “valuable insights” as needed.
Everybody learned something new. Even the three instructors!
Monday found me at Dream Lakes of Florida for a quail hunt, which I’ll tell you about in the English Setter Update. And then it rained!
Last Tuesday and Wednesday the sky was black, the wind gusted to more than 30 knots, the wet stuff fell, and I postponed my trips. Fortunately, the guys I had booked were able to shove their trips back into later this month.
By Friday, the wind laid down and the sky was blue. And the fish were pretty much in an eatin’ kinda mood. Which meant Jim Caron and his Mel Brooks-lookalike pal, Pat Maiorino had a grand time.
Actually, Pat’s the one who booked the trip through CKA&O, but Jim was the one who boated all the fish.
Pat’s a retired lawyer, and Jim owned several insurance agencies in Maine. “How long will you be down here?” I asked. Simultaneously they responded “ALL WINTER!” They have had far too much of upper, upper, upper New England’s winters, thank you very much!
Both are fledgling fly anglers, so we spent a bit of time working on The Cast. Which Pat found particularly beneficial.
“I took a class at L.L. Bean, since it’s practically in my back yard,” he said, “but this lesson was a real big help. I learned a lot. “ Which will come in mighty handy a couple of weeks from now when the Spanish mackerel and bonito breeze back through here on their spring migration.
“DEFINITELY call me as soon as they show up,” Pat said. “Getting onto a blitz sounds really exciting.” Which it certainly IS. Those slashing teeth create havoc on the schools of baitfish. Body parts fly through the air, birds crash the water, and the fish are insane.
The anglers go pretty crazy, too, at the sound and fury of these wild animals literally attacking our artificial offerings of fur and feathers.
I can’t wait! Coming Soon To A Barrier Island Near Us!!
Anyway, Jim caught snook, trout, red snapper, pompano, ladyfish, and a lizardfish. Pentax Moments were dutifully observed. Pat, meanwhile, practiced his casting.
He did, however, take a break to rest his arm and hooked “A Bigg’un” on the spinning gear I’d taken along. And it WAS a Bigg’un, too. Unfortunately, Pat waited a tad too long to head back to the stern and whatever it was (I think a very large pompano) cut the line on my trim tab.
Pat (who really could be a double for Mel Brooks except for the Maine accent) took the loss in stride, though. “Next time, I’ll land a big one,” he said. “This was great. Make sure to call when those mackerel get here.”
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Bill Delaney, who’s hunted with me in Michigan for grouse and woodcock, as well as for quail down here several times, was back at it last Monday.
His gunning partner was Frank Dunn, a retired optical surgeon. Must have done some pretty good work on himself, because ole Frank never missed!
He was toting my Browning Citori 28ga and was a one-shot wonder.
Ghost was marvelous, as always. What spectacular, classic points she makes!
Heart, who turned eight months old two days later, also did a fine job and shows much promise of being an excellent bird dog.
Of course, when I mentioned that to “Uncle Magoo,” (my Michigan hunting buddy Bill Ross) his reply was quite indignant.
“What the hell do you mean, "might make it"? You see the grins on those two old goats' faces; Shorty Pants, he's that great big guy on the left, he's why they are smiling over those seven [sic—it actually was eight] Bobs. They had a few hours to hunt with what will soon become the greatest bird dog known to mankind on the planet. And that is no exaggeration.
”It has to be that way; he's got the three best teachers on the
planet——Ghost—to teach him to hunt, Kate—to teach him good manners and you—to drive to the cover.
”Damn is he ever a handsome boy! Send more pics. “
Okay, Magoo. I will!
MICHIGAN
Another storm system is heading for Deward tomorrow. BRRRRRR!
MONTANA
Can you spell F-R-I-G-I-D??????
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - February 5th, 2008 |
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
FEBRUARY 5, 2008
FLORIDA
When I was a fledgling journalist in my first year of college, I lead off a story by writing: “Sometimes you get the bear. Sometimes the bear gets you. And sometimes—it just doesn’t pay to go into the woods.”
My sports editor, a senior, loved it.
Well, I’m sorry to report that we’ve sorta had a similar circumstance the past few trips. UNLIKE the spectacular fishing we’ve been having in Lemon Bay, the Myakka River and upper Charlotte Harbor were tough, Tough, TOUGH last week!
The Good part was when Denise Depaepe boated her five-pound snook in—naturally—Lemon Bay. Even though husband Jim had rough going with just a couple of small snappers (he missed several other fish), it was judged to be a very fine day indeed.
When the wind started howling as we were headed to Marker 17 for lunch, I suggested we “finish” the full day trip on Tuesday, the 29th.
“Let’s go look for some baby tarpon,” I suggested. “We haven’t seen them lately, but who knows what we might find.”
“Sounds good,” Jim said.
And it did. Sound good, that is. Except I forgot to call ahead and alert the tarpon that they were supposed to participate in the day’s events. So, they were notably absent.
Which definitely was NOT the case January 31, when Scott Liggett and Chris Creed met me at the Albee Road ramp for an evening of snook under the lights.
The fish DEFINITELY were in attendance. Thirty, forty? Yeah. Lots of fish finning around and routinely slurping down a glass minnow or small shrimp.
They were not, however, sufficiently impressed by the flies and jigs I had tied. Chris boated one small snook—“I can scratch that species off my need-to-catch list,” he said—and a scrappy jack crevalle.
Mind you, these are the very same patterns that my clients have used to put impressive numbers of fish into the boat during the past several years. In fact, I counted twenty-two different flies that Scott used that trip. So, what gives?
Guess I’ve “educated” them. The same thing happened with a nymph/emerger pattern I developed in Michigan more than 20 years ago. We absolutely HAMMERED browns and brookies on the Manistee River. Then, seemingly overnight, we couldn’t BUY a fish on that bug.
I “retired” it for two or three years, then it started producing again.
Hmmmm. Perhaps I’d better twist a few new wrinkles at the vise. And since tonight’s one of my free tying classes at Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters, this will be a good time to start innovating.
Let’s see. Denise’s fine snook was the GOOD.
Scott and Chris’ night snook was the BAD.
Now, I regrettably must tell you about the UGLY.
“Why bother to mention it at all?” Bill Riccardi asked while we were driving back from the El Jobean ramp.
“Because,” I answered, “I always tell the truth in my reports. No matter how painful it might be sometimes. I owe that to the people who base their fishing decisions on what they read in them.”
“So,” Howard Mullin offered from the back seat, “that makes us the uglies!”
“Yeah,” Bill chimed in. “Team Ugly. Waddya think about that, Howard?”
Howard allowed as how he “wasn’t ever going to win any beauty contests” he didn’t suppose it much mattered.
The crazy part is that every part of the component was perfect yesterday. Water temps ranged from 70 degrees to nearly 74. Air temp was pushing 80 with very little wind. Incoming tide was everything you could want.
Heck, the Garmin 172C was even painting fish all around the boat.
Perfect.
Well, not EVERY part of the component was perfect.
The day’s tally?
Howard boated a 10-inch trout and a five-inch Sea Robin—one of those strange little creatures that have gills, fins, legs, and wings.
Without intending to be blasphemous, I sorta think the Sea Robin was one of God’s mistakes. Like the human knee (to weak for what it does) and the avocado (the pit’s WAY too big).
The sea robin just doesn’t know if it’s supposed to swim, fly or crawl off into the mangroves.
I’m telling you we cruised around a lot of acreage in Charlotte Harbor to catch those two little fish!
My mistake, obviously, was location, location, location. Lemon Bay’s still on fire.
How hot? John Donohue told me at our Mardi Gras party Saturday night—between Coronas—that he nailed seven fat redfish the day before. Seven over-the-slot redfish.
In Lemon Bay. Where I’ve been having megafish days. And where I’ll be once again with my clients during the coming week!
MICHIGAN
Dark, dank, dreary, with yet more snow.
MONTANA
Don’t even ask!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - January 25th, 2008 |
RECORDED:
70 °
FISHING: Excellent
JANUARY 25, 2008
FLORIDA
One of my regular clients, Bob Mathieu, had the audacity to go fishing on his own boat yesterday while I was guiding Bill and Mike Delaney on a quail hunt.
Then Bob exacerbated his sin by calling the shop (Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters) while I was conducting the fly tying class last night, crowing that “I caught 90 trout in Lemon Bay today!”
Now that, my friends is an impressive feat! Of course, you do know when a fisherman’s lying to you:
His lips are moving!
I would never impugn Bob’s character by lumping HIM into that category, you understand. He is FAR too fine a gentleman to stretch the truth about his prowess. Even if he IS from Toronto.
Seriously, Bob’s fished with me a number of times and most always has done very well. Heck, he even caught a zebra (sheepshead) on fly during a trip with me last year.
His experience yesterday really illustrates how well Lemon Bay has been fishing this season. By far, the most spectacular of the 12 winters I’ve been here.
I was there last Tuesday with John Bachey, Dick Ritter, and Dan Tiechie, and we had an excellent day of “catching”—not just “fishing.”
I met Dick last summer in the parking lot of McLean’s Ace Hardware store in Grayling. The back hatch of his Jeep was raised, and he was sitting there petting a fine-looking English setter.
Anybody who knows me understands what came next:
“Nice-looking dog,” I said. “I’ve got a setter at home and another one on the way in a couple of weeks!”
Forty-five minutes later, I finally bought whatever it was I’d originally intended to get, and headed north to Deward. Setter people simply LOVE talking dogs!
So, it really was no surprise when I got a phone call from Dick one day last bird season.
“One of my pals just bought a house near Venice,” he said. “He and a bunch of us are getting together at my cabin on the Au Sable tonight. How bout coming over, if you have time.
“I’m making prime rib, and I make it pretty darn good. You’re welcome to join us.”
Now, would YOU turn down an invite like that? Well, Kate had to because she was on deadline with a copyediting job, but told me it would unquestionably prove that I’m CERTIFIABLY CRAZY if I didn’t go.
So, I bundled Ghost and the pup—Heart—into their crates a couple hours later and we were off to the old fishing camp known as Edgewater, just upstream from Gates Au Sable Lodge.
We had a great meal, lots of laughs, and Dick’s 91-year-old father absolutely fell in love with Heart.
“He STILL talks about that pup,” Dick said when we were fishing the other day. I asked if his dad still tries to get out in the field and Dick looked at me like I’m nuts.
“HE’S 91!”
“So, I replied. “Maybe the open areas?” Dick just shook his head. And promptly caught his first fish of the trip, a schoolie snook on one of my Glass Minnow patterns.
John, meanwhile, was having an absolute field-day. After every snook or snapper, he’d laconically comment how, “It’s all about picking your spots!
“You don’t see me wearing myself out. I just KNOW where the fish are. Then I make my cast.” And, brother, you should have heard the barnyard residue fly when I netted his 22-inch, four-pound snook!
Dan lost a really big jack crevalle, and a couple smaller snook, before finally nailing one that warranted Pentax Attention.
We stopped for lunch at Marker 17 Restaurant, a waterfront joint near Stump Pass, then headed back out. The tide was nearly full by then, and the pickings turned slim. A couple more small trout and it was time to head in.
“Tell me again when we need to be here for tarpon,” John asked. “Late May to early July,” I replied, and he nodded thoughtfully.
The next day, I was running Will Bouck around Lemon Bay.
“Nice boat,” he said of my ’07 Hewes when he met me at the ramp. “Looks like it really flies.” Which was appropriate, since Will spent 17 years driving Navy F-4 Phantoms and F-14 Tomcats for a living.
Since I drive “little stuff” (or used to, anyway, before I started spending every day on the water) we spent a lot of time talking aviation.
It also allowed me to use flying terms while helping him learn a lot more about his newly-beloved sport of fly angling.
“I’ve been at it six months,” he said, “and thought I was halfway proficient.”
“You were,” I replied. “Now you learned the other half!”
“OUCH, that’s COLD, Tony! Really COLD. Worse than if you’d been yelling at me!” He was smiling when he said it, though.
Will boated two snapper and used the proverbial “long-line-release” on several more. He also castigated himself mightily for using the “Yankee Lift”—raising the rod tip like dry fly anglers from “Up North.”
“Great, Billy,” he’d mutter. Or, after dropping the fly line when casting to the mangroves I’d hear, “Billy, you botched THAT cast!” Finally, he explained “When my wife calls me Billy, I know I’m in trouble!”
All things considered, he didn’t do badly. And Lemon Bay has been superb!
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Yesterday was low 60s and pretty humid, but Ghost and Heart had an absolutely marvelous time running like the wind up at Dream Lakes of Florida.
Until they caught a whiff of quail scent, of course. Then it was SCREEETCH!!! And a solid lockup on point.
Between the two of them, they located about 30 birds for half of The Delaney Brothers family—Bill, and Mike. Kevin had hunted with us last season. Now we need to finally get Vinny into the field.
“I can never get over hearing that,” Kate said again last night. “There’s this fine Irish family of boys—William, Michael, Kevin, and—VINNY? It just doesn’t fit. “
“That,” Bill told her once, “is because my middle name is Patrick! So, baby brother got stuck with Vinny. Mom had run out of all the classic Irish names.”
The puppy—who’s just over seven months old—did an outstanding job pointing (and holding point) for Bill and Mike. However, Heart still goes berserk after making the retrieve.
He obviously is so ecstatic about birds that he simply HAS to race around the field with his prize firmly clamped between his jaws.
Yeah, I know. But I already did that. Bought one of those little studded harnesses, I mean.
This contraption belts around a quail’s body. The premise is that when Pup chomps down on the bird, those prickly little studs immediately let him know that hard-mouthing is a no-no.
Did it deter Heart’s exuberance? Not one blessed bit! He chewed on that studded harness while running like Sherman going through Atlanta!
“What’s next?” Kate asked, after I regaled her with the details.
“Not sure,” I answered. “Prayer, maybe.”
Till next time!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - January 13th, 2008 |
RECORDED:
75 °
FISHING: Good
JANUARY 13, 2008
The first real cold front of the winter hit southwest Florida the first week of the new year, plunging nighttime temperatures to the mid-30s in Venice, and even into the 20s inland.
Predictably, that pretty much shut down the superb fishing we’d been experiencing. Besides, who wants to even THINK about getting on the water with sustained winds 20-25 and gusts to more than 30 miles per hour?
Not THIS Captain, I can tell you THAT right now!
It’s shaping up to be a beautiful day for the free fly-casting clinic I’m doing with Dusty Sprauge at Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters. Much calmer than yesterday, when I guided Greg Mounts, his wife Irina, and Nicholas (9), and Julia (5). More about them in a minute.
First, I’ve gotta tell you about the total dedication that Julie Watrobka brings to the sport of fly fishing.
She and husband Greg (from Chicago) own a house near Marathon in the Keys, but made a five-hour drive up here and stayed at the Venice Holiday Inn (where my anglers get a special rate) for two nights.
All because my good friend Joseph Meyer, who owns Once More Cast fly shop in suburban Chicago, INSISTED that I was the one to teach her to cast.
When I first took Greg’s call, I politely told him that it was a long drive that would chew up two days of potential guide trips for me. “No problem,” he replied, “we’ll come up to you. We’ve never seen that part of Florida. It’ll be fun.”
What we ultimately decided was for them to meet me at the Holiday Inn around 1pm on Wednesday, and we’d spend several hours on dry land, working on casting nuances with both of them.
As it turned out, Joseph already had done a pretty good job with Greg, because there were only a few minor glitches to iron out.
So, Mrs. Watrobka got my undivided attention. Both on the grass and the following day, when we put the Hewes in at Indian Mounds and cruised around Lemon Bay.
Brother, was she a GAMER! Even when the wind kicked up, she refused to put down the fly rod. “I’ll take a little rest,” she said at one point, “but I really want to get this down. So far, I don’t have the feel. I need to keep at it until I get the feel.”
What a great attitude! Even though she didn’t catch a fish (Greg did, however). I don’t think it’ll be too long before she’s pitching 60 feet of line with that dedication!
Friday morning I met Richard Ives and his brother-in-law, Bob Morgan and we once again hit Lemon Bay.
Richard is a developer from Sterling Heights, near Detroit, so we had a lot to talk about, comparing notes on fishing the Pere Marquette, and even the upper Manistee, where Kate and I live half the year.
Bob, who retired from the police department in Raleigh, NC, really jolted me when I asked where he was from.
“Ohio,” he said.
“Yeah? Where in Ohio?” I replied.
“Youngstown.”
“No kidding! I grew up in Niles (10 miles away). And my mom was from Youngstown.”
Now, the bizarre part about this is that just last week, when I was guiding Lance Avery, John Hopkins, and Randy Gould, I found out that Randy was also from Youngstown.
Talk about “Old Home Week!”
To make it even more bizarre, Bob Morton had once been the chief of security for Carlisle’s department store, where my mother had worked for a while.
“What’s her name?” Bob asked. When I told him, he immediately replied, “Yep. I knew her!”
Oh, yes. About the fishing. I’d say the highlight of the day was Richard’s five-pound jack crevalle. It yanked him all around the boat for several minutes before I could ease the large net underneath and lift it from the water.
Bob, who’s still pretty new at fly fishing, got on the board with a couple of decent trout, but overall, it was slower action than we’d been having before the front blew through.
Now for the Mount Family.
“We live on a canal in Siesta Key,” Greg told me, “but we’ve never caught a fish. We see them, but they always refuse our lures.”
Hmmmmm.
Well, that WASN’T the case yesterday morning. Within minutes of stopping the boat and tossing out the sea anchor, little Julia was screeching in delight as she reeled in a small trout.
A Kodak Moment was duly observed, then Nicholas (not Nick, thank you) let out a whoop as his rod bent over in a handsome arc. An even larger trout came into the net, but yours truly bungled The Family Portrait. Turns out that after the fish was released, I realized I hadn’t made the picture.
Dead batteries in the camera!
Fortunately, I had fresh ones inside the console. Because it wasn’t long after Julia boated a 12-inch lizardfish (“No picture, honey, because lizardfish have lots of sharp teeth. See!” “SCREEEECH!” Julia replied), that they doubled up.
I think Julia hooked up first, but a carbon-copy ladyfish inhaled Nicholas’ jig within seconds. Yes, lines were tangled. Yes, the fish were landed. And yes, as you can see from the Featured Photo, the guide managed to do his job properly.
This time Julia was eager to hold her prize. Still a little bit of high-pitched shrieking, but hey—don’t we all get just a little bit excited?
Especially when you’re five years old!
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Conan The Barbarian—a.k.a. Manistee River Heart—is officially seven months old. Seven months of big, strong, lovable, affable, enthusiasm.
And that’s putting it mildly!
He bangs around the house like a tornado, constantly nipping at Ghost (the 10-year-old) and egging her to play. Which she does. To a point. Then it’s like, “Kid, I TOLD you I want to snooze for a while”—nip—“YELP!”
We’re still working on “Whoa.” He learned “sit” and “biscuit” and “ride” pretty darn fast. But the Big W eludes him. When it really matters, that is.
See, he KNOWS the word, and actually will whoa when I set a biscuit, or even his food dish, on the floor. But when the adrenaline’s pumping, uh-uh.
Well, I have 10 days to drill him before we meet The Delaney Brothers (Bill, Mike, and Kevin) for some quail hunting at Dream Lakes of Florida.
I’ll keep you posted!
Till next time,
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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