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Lemon Bay - December 30th, 2007 |
RECORDED: 
74 °
FISHING: Excellent
DECEMBER 30, 2007
THE YEAR IN REVIEW
(Up-to date Fishing Report to follow)
The BIG news is that Kate’s cancer is gone!
Her MRI and Mammogram two weeks ago showed that she’s free as a bird from the insidious clutches of The Big C. Sorta like a Rose Breasted Grosbeak flitting away from a Cooper’s Hawk. Whitebait evading a diving Osprey. Ladyfish dodging an Eagle’s talons.
In other words, we’re pretty damn happy right now! Kate did NOT become part of the “baitfish of life” three years after being diagnosed.
Those of you who’ve gone through it understand. If your trials are just beginning, we’re here to help. We don’t need to have ever met you. Plenty of folks we’d never heard of were here for Kate, so don’t hesitate to drop us (her) a note. As for the rest of you, profoundly thank your own personal Deity for such good fortune to be free of this grief.
Now to the Fishing Report and other news and notes you might find interesting.
FLORIDA
It’s been a pretty glorious Christmas Week in terms of catching fish. I spent several days in Lemon Bay, and the catching (mostly) was superb. The Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) in Nokomis and Osprey, likewise, was generous.
Lemon Bay near Stump Pass, and Fork Creek, were on fire. Except for the one day when poor Charlie Place experienced “Guide Failure” (sadly, more on THAT in a minute), EVERYBODY caught a plethora of fish.
Monday, it was Frank Bioteau, his son Zach, and son-in-law Craig Brewer. Wednesday was Marty Pool and his teenage sons Alex, Michael, and John. Thursday was Poor Charlie. Friday was Bob Goldsmith and his daughter Karen and her husband, Craig (in the ICW). Saturday was Lance Avery and his father-in-law John Hopkins and brother-in-law Randy Gould.
With the exception of Poor Charlie, everybody absolutely had a Career Day. They caught snook. They caught spotted sea trout. They caught mangrove snapper and lane snapper and red snapper onetwothree. They caught pompano and jack crevalle and lizardfish and ladyfish and Spanish mackerel and a BUNCH of three-pound bluefish.
Except Poor Charlie, who experienced “Guide Failure” and only caught four stinking fish in nearly five hours of fly-flinging. And, I’ve gotta tell you, Charlie’s a pretty good “flinger.”
As it turns out, I made a grievous tactical error on that day. When I’d fished Tom Ladimir and Wally Hedman the previous Friday, then Frank on Monday and Marty on Wednesday, I always started in Fork Creek around noon because the morning tides were hideously low.
And we cleaned up! Fish-on! was the constant cry. BUT, for some goldarned foolhardy reason I decided to run south in the ICW first-thing, THEN go up to The Creek.
Oh, my. What a mistake!
Charlie, I must admit, was a real Gamer. He kept casting and never complained. Even when the enormous school of redfish that surrounded us absolutely refused to eat a single offering.
He was pretty good about easing my anxiety, too. I must have apologized 30 times for the poor “catching.” He just smiled, made another cast, and finally hooked a trout, a Lane, and a couple of lizards.
And to think Lefty had bragged on me a little bit when Charlie told the venerable Mr. Kreh that we were fishing together. Geeze, now I’ll never hear the end of it from Lefty—and since he knows absolutely EVERYBODY in the fly fishing world—well…
At least the other guys had pretty much non-stop action! The bluefish were especially fun for Marty’s boys Alex (15), Mike (13), and Joe (11). They’d never experienced such slashing hits and “quick releases” when those sharp teeth cut through 20-pound fluoro like it was nothing.
I’d put the guys through my “Rookie School” last summer in Michigan. It’s a four-to-five-hour class that covers every aspect of fly fishing. Casting to entomology to wading to actually fishing a trout stream. Afterwards, Marty mentioned that his folks have a condo down here and “it would be great to take the boys out saltwater fishing.”
Even back in Michigan, it didn’t take long for me to figure out that Alex was the dedicated angler. Michael is a budding Einstein--real serious and scholarly. Joe is—well, he’s a lot like my puppy, Heart. “All Boy” is the best way to describe it. That hadn’t changed the day after Christmas.
Like, after we fished The Creek—where they’d boated several respectable snook, one large over-the-slot trout (by Alex, of course), and a bunch of red snapper—I pulled up in the middle of a large flat near Stump Pass. Joe took a look around, wrinkled his face in disgust, and promptly pronounced “there aren’t any fish here!”
After Alex then almost immediately hooked and boated a fish, I looked at Joe and couldn’t help saying, “Don’t you get tired of being right all the time?” I’m not sure if he caught the subtle dig, but Marty sure roared with laughter!
Ironically, Lance, John, and Randy said pretty much the same thing when I pulled up into the very same spot three days later.
And—nah, nah, nah, nah—nahhhhhh, nahhhhhh! They all caught a boatload of bluefish, trout, pompano and even a Spanish mackerel. No guide failure A-tall!
Between-times, I took Bob, Karen, and Craig up the ICW for a morning of trout, pompano, and ladyfishladyfishladyfish. The weather was fine, and the fishing was easy.
Which is more than I can say for the coming week!
The NDBC forecast is horrible, so please do NOT plan on coming fishing. By tomorrow morning there’s a chance of showers with dense fog. Then the weather gets bad.
By Tuesday, the forecast is north winds 25 to 30 knots with gusts to gale force. Sort of like you’ve been experiencing in the Upper Midwest the past few days. Only without the snow.
I spoke with my good pal Patrick Hager today. He lives in Wausau, WI, and told me as he was piling logs into his generous fireplace, “the snow’s two feet deep in the yard and more than four feet next to the driveway. The dogs are frantic to get out but they’ve got no place to go.”
He said it’s a snowmobiler’s dream-come-true. “And I’m not gonna leave the house for two days!”
Well, Patrick, I’ll be leaving the house, but it certainly doesn’t sound like my Hewes Redfisher will be back on the water any time soon!
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Heart is not quite seven months old and he’s a real handful. Kate and I probably say “Down, Heart!” about forty times a day. Or, “Leave It, Heart!” as he grabs yet some other unauthorized item ranging from the Sunday newspaper to potholders to pillows.
This morning, he decided to steal one of my just-purchased, one-hour-old sneakers. After my third and most-forceful “Heart! Leave It!” Ghost (the 10-year-old setter) leapt forward like an Avenging Angel and head-butted him into the dining room wall.
There was a short, high-pitched squeal from the puppy as he dropped my shoe and stared big-eyed and imploringly at Ghost. Sorta like, “Okay! Don’t hurt me! I’m sorry!” Ghost snorted, looking at me with a pretty self-satisfied grin on her face.
Then she walked over to the futon, jumped up, sighed contentedly, and curled up for a snooze. The puppy, still wide-eyed, swiveled his head from Ghost-to-me-to-Ghost. Finally, he plopped down onto the carpet. But his eyes were still wide open!
MICHIGAN
It’s cold and snowy and just right for a roaring fire and warm brandy.
MONTANA
More of the same. In spades!”
Until next time, check out the special deals we have at the Holiday Inn in Venice, and A Beach Retreat on the Gulf of Mexico in Nokomis. It’s a wonderful way to beat the snow and the cold and the crud!
From Capt. John, Lanie, Kate, and myself—we hope you have a safe, prosperous, and happy New Year. ESPECAIALLY all of you men and women deployed overseas. May you SOON come home to cast a fly over your favorite water!
And, when you do come home, or are back in the Venice area on leave, call me at 941-496-4289 and I’ll take you fishing whenever I’m not booked for a charter. No charge. It’s the least I can do for you!
Once again, Happy New Year from all of us to all of you.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - December 15th, 2007 |
RECORDED: 
73 °
FISHING: Excellent
DECEMBER 15, 2007
FLORIDA
Sometimes, being a “celebrity” has its drawbacks. Take last Tuesday, for example.
Last March, Mike Drossner had read the article I wrote about night snook fishing in Venice that appeared in Fly Fisherman magazine. “I’ve gotta fish with this guy,” Mike told himself. So, I received an e-mail in October.
Dear Tony, Suzanne and I are avid freshwater flyfishers . We read your article "Snook Under Lights" in Fly Fisherman. We are visiting friends on Anna Maria Island Dec 10-15, 2007. We would love to "hook" up with you for a half day or full day of fly fishing the gulf coast inland waterways if you are interested. We cannot go the evening of Dec 12 (my 50th birthday). Hope to hear from you. A flurry of replies and counter-replies ensued, and on the eve of Mike’s milestone birthday, we were cruising around the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) around Venice.
And, for a while, “cruising” is about all we did. Spot after spot after spot yielded no action.
Finally, the tide came in and apparently the fish came in along with it because Mike and Suzanne started boating a grab-bag of species.
Whew!
So then we stopped at Pop’s Sunset Grill for a waterfront dinner of mahi-mahi, conch fritters, and salad laden with raspberry vinaigrette before heading back out for the Main Attraction.
Which, of course, would be snook tantalizingly laid up under the lights. Just like in my magazine article.
And, they were. Hundreds of them. Except THEY must not have read what I’d written. None of them. Not one! Michael Drossner’s 50th Birthday Present was a no-show. For the first time in all the years I’ve been chasing fish down here we failed to catch a snook under the lights.
We had hit seven different lights, and had seen hundreds of snook. Only once was there a flurry of feeding activity. The rest of the time they simply hung suspended in the water, moping.
As Mike and Suzanne began the drive back to Anna Maria Island, where they were staying at the home of one of Dr. Drossner’s grateful heart patients, a boat with three young fellows pulled up to the ramp.
“Pretty punky tide out there tonight,” one of them said. “Yeah,” I replied, “we must have thrown fifteen different fly patterns at them and never got a single snook to eat.”
“Wahl, don’t feel too badly ‘bout it,” another interjected. “We was thowin’ live greenies at ‘em and didn’t none ‘o them eat our bait neither!”
Yeah, well that wasn’t much consolation for this hotshot magazine writer!
At least I found a measure of redemption in Lemon Bay the following morning with Andrew Berryhill, Jim Appold, and his son, Andrew.
Jim owns a bakery near Toledo, as well as a house on Manasota Key. Son Andrew owns rental properties in Toledo, and son-in-law Andrew is the Director of the Toledo Symphony Orchestra.
We launched from the ramp next to Manasota Road Bridge, and worked our way south. Finally, on some flats near Stump Pass, the curtain rose and the music was fine.
In fact, Mr. Berryhill was in excellent form. He must have caught four species of snapper, several enormous lizardfish, jacks, ladyfish, and a couple of small trout.
Team Appold held up their end with a fat 15-inch pompano by Jim, and a slot-sized spotted sea trout by Andrew, then everybody got busy comparing schedules for a couple more trips down the road.
I had pretty much the same experience yesterday with Dan Ferraris. He had bought a trip that I had donated to the Englewood Coastal Conservation Association (CCA) last spring, but this was the first chance we had to fish.
“I’m a retired dentist from Burlington, Vermont,” he told me, “but between going back and forth to sell our house up there, and a remodeling project on the house here, I’ve never been busier. So I’m glad we finally had a chance to get on the water.”
Dan’s new to saltwater fishing and boating, so I think he appreciated all of the tips and tricks I gave him about staying safe while driving his boat as much as all the fish he caught.
“Fishing down here certainly is a lot more complicated then stepping into a Vermont trout stream,” he said. “The boating, the knots, the flies themselves are all so different from what I’m used to.”
His casting was excellent, though. Especially after I showed him my little trick of marking the fly line at the load point, as well as reference marks at 45 feet and 60 feet.
“That’s pretty cool,” he said. “I’m casting farther than I ever have before!”
Uh-huh!
“Now that you’ve got that dialed-in,” I said, “next time we’ll go chase some baby tarpon. They’re only 25 to 50 pounds, but you should have fun with them.”
“Only?” he replied. “Good God!”
MICHIGAN
It’s 8 degrees in Deward right now, but the temperature’s supposed to skyrocket all the way up over 20 tomorrow!
Anything else you’d like to know about THAT fishing report?
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
The puppy’s officially six months old now, and is beginning to “mature” if you get my drift. Heart still is completely and utterly cowed by Ghost—the 10-year old—though.
They are having a fine time careening through the house. Heart uses my big chair and ottoman as a launching pad when he’s being chased by Ghost, and the rug around the dining room table looks like the Santa Anita Racetrack.
At least we’ve got the huge fenced yard for them to blast around in. Not to mention the gray squirrels that have begun to fascinate the puppy.
Just so he remembers feathers, not fur, are his prime objective.
I don’t think I have much to worry about though, judging from the way I keep finding feathers from my fly tying bench throughout the house. Soggy little reminders for me to keep things “buttoned up” a little better!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Charlotte Harbor Area - December 8th, 2007 |
RECORDED: 
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
DECEMBER 8, 2007
FLORIDA
What would have undoubtedly been a NEW WORLD RECORD for snook was caught from my old Hewes Bayfisher! Except it was out of season and WAAAAY over the slot limit.
I just found out last night that Steve Gastright, who bought the Bayfisher from me last May, was trolling a pinfish off the St. Lucie Inlet off the Indian River last summer when he encountered a major surprise.
“The tide was just coming in,” Steve said. “I must have seen 500 tails in the water—no kidding—but I was running out of time and started motoring back to Jensen Beach when it happened.
“The reel started zinging, so I stopped the boat and grabbed the rod. I knew it was something big, but I had no idea what it was until I finally got it alongside the boat.
“So there I was, alone, with no camera! I started waving and yelling at some guys in a boat a quarter-mile away, but they ignored me. I didn’t want her to die, so I real quick brought her aboard and put her snout against the push pole, then marked where her tail ended on the other side of the casting deck.
“She obviously had spawned out recently, because her big old belly was flabby and floppy.
“Anyway, when I got home I grabbed my tape measure and it registered SIXTY-FOUR INCHES!”
Using the Florida Sportsman Fishing Planner’s chart to estimate weight, a 65-inch fish with a girth of only 26 inches would be approximately 55 pounds.
The existing Florida record is 44 pounds 3 ounces, and the world record is 53-10!
UNOFFICIALLY, Steve Gastright can claim the WORLD RECORD SNOOK!!! And to think it came off my old boat. Way to go, Steve!
He and his good buddy, John, from Casey Key are coming to the free fly casting clinic we’re giving at Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters on January 13, then we’re going fishing the following day. John has been hankerin’ to learn the “Quiet Sport,” and Steve is looking for “some new tips.”
I told him “there’s no way I’ll even SUGGEST that we’ll catch a fish to rival that snook of his, but I expect we’ll have a good time, anyway!
I was in upper Charlotte Harbor yesterday with Admiral Bob Parker, and Tony Soviano—formerly of Chicago’s South Side. Redfish, and some huge, gorgeous Spotted Leopard Rays, were abundant.
The reds were huge, too. I mean fish in the 20-pound class! Unfortunately, neither angler could get a fly in front of those monster reds.
We had a negative-three-inch tide around 9am, so I waited until about 10:30 to start fishing the West Wall. Even with a slight east wind there just wasn’t much water on that side.
I decided to run out to the main channel, and my Garmin 172C showed a lot of fish in 12 feet of water, but even with a sink-tip line The Admiral couldn’t hook up.
By the time I got over to Hog Island, on the East side, we were about a third of the way into the incoming tide and that’s when we found those big reds in about a foot of water.
Plenty of redfish, my friends. Just none in the boat yesterday morning!
Those rays certainly gave us a few minutes of exciting anticipation. They were just far enough away, and the sun was glinting off the water at just the right angle, to make the tips of their fins look like tarpon tails in the deeper water drop-off.
A pair of them finally thrashed and trashed about 10 feet from the boat and I saw what they were.
Just about all of Charlotte Harbor has been fishing extremely well for redfish the past week, including many, many, many tailing reds in the backcountry.
Tarpon also are still hanging around because of the unseasonably warm water temperatures. It was over 70 degrees yesterday, down only slightly from Monday, when a pod of poons in the hundred-pound class were frolicking in the clam lease behind Sandfly Key!
Spotted sea trout, bluefish, and pompano are prevalent in the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) around Venice. Night snook fishing also has been extremely good in “Snook Alley.”
I’ve got a full load of charters next week, and during Christmas week, so keep checking the Fishing Report for the latest updates on southwest Florida.
MICHIGAN
It’s overcast and 19 degrees in Wellston today. So, if steelhead are what floats YOUR boat, dress warmly and make sure to take a spare rod along.
Yes, there are fish in the Manistee River below Tippy Dam, and the Little Manistee also has been producing a fair number of fish according to my pals at Schmidt Outfitters.
Just remember to work small black stonefly nymphs, or Hex nymphs, very slowly across the bottom.
We’ve got more than a foot of snow on the ground in Deward, and the fly-only stretch of the Upper Manistee between M-72 and CCC Bridge also is calf-deep with the white stuff.
Personally, I’d recommend hopping an AirTran flight into Sarasota!
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
I took Ghost (who will be 11 years old in May!) and Heart (who just turned six months old) to Dream Lakes of Florida last Tuesday for some quail.
Barry O’Sullivan (yep, that’s really his name) and his Springer, Yankee, joined me. So did Joe and Andrew Lock with their yellow lab, Charlie.
Each dog got to work two sessions and three of the four were draggin’ their tails in the pasture. Ghost, however, was a dervish! She covered ground like an F-16 on a strafing mission—back and forth through the bare areas and tall grass and even back in the thick Michigan-like trees.
Our Michigan vet, Paul Mesak, put her on a new pain reliever named Previcox before grouse season opened and it’s an absolute Miracle Drug.
Despite arthritis in both hips—and having had the steel plate from the TPLO two years ago removed November 15—this new medication is unbelievable. She ran Tuesday as if she was going to turn FOUR instead of ELEVEN!
The puppy, who we have nicknamed Conan The Barbarian, had a lot of fun discovering the joys of fresh cow pies until my repeated yells of “LEAVE IT!!!!!” began to sink into his brain-pan.
Once we got THAT out of the way, he showed some very stylish points. He wasn’t very stylish AFTER the shot, however. He’d grab the quail and take off running.
“Whoa?” Never heard the word before.
“Right Here?” Only when I turned away and started walking back to the guys. THEN I’d feel a nudge against the back of my leg and Heart would be there with a puzzled “Why aren’t you chasing me?” look.
And then I had to PRY the bird out of his mouth. Which is why I called my old friend Brian Bilinski at Fieldsport in Traverse City on Wednesday.
“Got any of those studded harnesses to cure a puppy of a bad case of hard-mouth?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said, “three different sizes.”
“Quail,” I said, and made sure he had the Florida address.
One other interesting little episode involving Heart took place just last night.
I was going to read in bed for a few minutes after a day of shoving the Hewes around, but the phone rang. It was Steve Gastright confirming our casting/fishing plans for next month.
When I walked back into the bedroom—mere minutes later—Heart was happily, and quite messily, lapping Burgundy from my wine glass!
Wonderful. A bird dog who’s going to demand HIS dram of Hunter’s Hearth Liquor at the end of the day, too! Not a chance, Conan, not a chance.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Charlotte Harbor Area - November 28th, 2007 |
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
NOVEMBER 28, 2007
FLORIDA
I had a lot of fun yesterday playing in the dirt with Dusty Sprague. Naw, we weren’t vroom-vrooming tractors, trucks, or John Deere Green around an imaginary condo development. Even kids like us are too old for THAT.
What we did was launch my Hewes Redfisher 18 out of Eldred’s Marina—since Charlotte County decided to tear up the Placida public ramp and it isn’t “scheduled” to be open until February 3—and poke around Gasparilla and Charlotte Harbor.
What a day of revelations!
Number 1 was a nice little flat that was loaded with barracuda-like fishies that I “think” are called Sennet. Not very big, but mind you they have serious teeth!
I’ve never encountered this species before. I’ll have to ask Dr. Aaron Adams—the local fisheries guru—about them. Dusty said he’d heard they’re ‘cuda cousins, and judging from the looks of ‘em I wouldn’t disagree.
Number 2 was the startling absence of water!
When I said we were playing in the dirt, I REALLY mean I was poling along vast expanses of exposed sand and sea grasses. In fact, it was impossible to get back into areas I routinely fish in Gasparilla Sound and The Harbor.
The GOOD thing was that it forced the fish to stack up in the troughs of deeper water along the edges. Fish were EVERYWHERE!
Dusty boated a 19-inch trout first, then a snook just shy of 24 inches. A four-foot black-tip shark was tearing up the baitfish (and some considerably larger fish!) around the boat, and I suggested that Dusty might want to make a cast over its head.
“I’m rigged way too light,” he replied. “I’m trying out a new 6-weight rod that I’m taking to Mexico next week, and that shark would tear it up.”
I offered the use of a 9-weight tipped with 30-pound fluoro but he still declined, instead boating a two-foot ladyfish, then the largest darned puffer fish I’ve ever seen.
“I sure would like to catch a redfish,” Dusty lamented, after I ungraciously dubbed him “The Puffer King.”
“Well, there are a pair of them at two o’clock,” I said. “Maybe one of them might eat that fly.”
“WHERE?” Dusty asked, whirling around. Then he spotted them and promptly “boinked” the lead fish smack on the head.
“Well, I really screwed that one up,” he said, laughing. Unfortunately, I had to agree. But, since I‘ve been-there/done-that myself on more than one occasion it was no-harm/no-foul.
The only “harm” came when Dusty pinned a number two hook into my left ankle when he made a sidearm cast while I was spinning the boat.
“Did I mention the hundred-dollar fine for hooking the guide?” I said as a line of blood trickled down the side of my leg.
“Oh, God,” Dusty exclaimed. “You’re the first person I’ve hooked this season.”
“Lucky me,” I said, dipping my leg into the water to wash the blood off my ankle while wondering exactly where that blacktip was lurking.
The wind started blowing about that time, exposing yet more dirt, so we decided to pull the plug and head for the ramp.
Dusty would simply have to accept the fact that even a Federation of Fly Fishers Master Casting Instructor (who also happens to be a member of the FFF’s Casting Board of Governors) could botch a couple of casts that cost him the “Inshore Slam.”
Which he did, with his typical quiet grace.
But if you wanted to hear some real hootin’ ‘n hollerin’ you should have been with me last Saturday, when I guided Tim Egan, Tom Gilbane, and Eric Bertelson.
Tim’s family has owned a house on Casey Key for many years, and his family was spending Thanksgiving together down here. The three brothers-in-law were hankering for some fishing, and called Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters to find out if a guide was available.
“Saturday’s the only day we can go,” Tom told Kevin Cooke, who owns the shop with dad Bob. “Is anybody free to take us out?”
I was, and I did.
The guys have fly fished in Belize, Montana, and the Seychelles, so we first tried flinging two fly rods and one spin. Several non-lethal “Geeze-I’m–sorry-mans” later we went to one fly and two spin.
And it was strictly murder!
They’d hook one fish. They’d double-up. Once or twice all three guys had fish on and it was like taking a number at the deli. “You keep yours in that water,” I’d tell Tom and Tim, “while I net Eric’s.” Or Tom’s. Or Tim’s.
They must have caught 60 fish between them during the four hours we were out! By the time I pulled up to their dock at the house near Midnight Pass, the only thing they wanted to raise was a glass of something cold.
Later that night I had an e-mail from Tim’s father. “The guys had a great time and said I should get ahold of you to book a tarpon trip in June.”
And, we did!
MICHIGAN
Water temps for the Manistee River are in the low 40s below Tippy Dam, as wells as at The Little River and the Pere Marquette. The water’s also very low and clear, so a stealthy approach is mandatory if you expect to even spot a steelhead.
Realistic flies such as Hexagenia nymphs are the best bet right now. Streamers fished low and slow can also bring results on brown trout as well as steelies.
The flies-only water of the upper Manistee between M72 and CCC Bridge is open and can produce some impressive brown trout throughout the winter.
Same for the Au Sable “Holy Water” between Burton’s Landing and Wakeley Bridge.
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
The stainless steel plate in Ghost’s left rear leg was removed November 15 and she was supposed to be “kept quiet” for two to three weeks.
RIGHT!
Three days after the surgery she was asking me why we weren’t out hunting grouse and woodcock.
I patiently explained that:
A) the season was closed
B) the doctors insisted that she rest the leg and let the interior stitches heal.
To which she replied:
A) how can the season be OVER? Seems like it just began!
B) RIDICULOUS! I’m perfectly fine!
Well, here we are barely two weeks later and she’s crashing around the house chasing Heart—who, equally incredible, is about to turn six months old.
The two of them are getting along far better than my wildest hopes. Of course, she put the Fear of Ghost into the pup early on, so he has a healthy respect for The Big Dog. Even though he actually weighs more than she does right now.
Speaking of which, it appears that our “Little Boy,” who we have tongue-in-cheek nicknamed Conan (as in The Barbarian) is going to top out somewhere around 60 pounds.
Assuming he LIVES that long, considering the pebbles, wire nuts, and other assorted stuff he ingests when we’re not vigilantly watching his every move. The mess he regurgitated yesterday was, well, a mess. Besides the little rocks, he even managed to find a small wire nail somewhere in the back yard.
He hasn’t yet “grown into” his big feet, long legs and large head so we’re just guessing at 60 pounds. He’ll NEVER be as graceful or nimble as Ghost (even with the busted ACL), but he definitely will be a lot BIGGER.
I guess it’ll soon be time for a trip to Dream Lakes for a quail hunt!
Till next time—
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Charlotte Harbor Area - October 31st, 2007 |
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
OCTOBER 31, 2007
My old friend Ray Schmidt tells me that if you’re looking for a real “treat” this weekend you might want to consider a trip down the Manistee River in search of steelhead.
“The salmon are pretty much spawned out,” he said, “but this cooler weather has brought a lot of steelhead into the system, and the brown trout are eating small egg patterns and caddis larva (Rhyacophelia) imitations.
“The PM (Pere Marquette River, near Baldwin) is fishing pretty well, too. We’ll have steelhead throughout the fall and winter, and we’ve been hooking fish every day.”
I’ll be on the Au Sable this Sunday with Matt Ross and his girlfriend, who gave him the full-day float as a birthday gift.
“Neither of us has ever been fly fishing before,” Matt told me when he called to book the trip. So, I suggested we meet at The Fly Factory in downtown Grayling at 9am for some casting instruction before launching the longboat.
We’ll be pounding the undercut riverbanks and sweepers (that’s what we call the log jams around here), stripping streamers in anticipation of hungry brown trout.
I’ll let you know how it goes!
Heart’s laying down at my feet as I type. I simply can’t believe how fast he’s grown. Still a lot of puppy, though. Much more so than Ghost was at the same age. She was very serious, and made her first woodcock retrieve at the age of 21 weeks.
We’ve been taking the Little Guy with us into the field whenever possible to try and get him “educated.” Bill (Magoo) Ross loves putting Heart on the 15-foot blaze orange leash he bought, and watching Heart strain to keep up with me and Ghost.
I did some training work with Heart after Bill and I hunted for a half hour yesterday. Ghost pointed one grouse (plus another wild flush) and one woodcock (which I added to the others that will make the pate appetizer for our annual wild game dinner on the 10th.
I’ve also got a big batch of minestrone that I made and froze last month. The entrée courses will be salmon with a dill stuffing and lightly buttered noodles, Hunters Creek Club pheasant with shotgun sauce, wild rice and glazed baby carrots, and a bear roast with baby redskins and corn “coblets.”
Finally, we’ll top things off with a couple of Kate’s homemade wild blackberry pies and a sip or two of MY homemade Hunter’s Hearth Liquor.
It sounds like a lot, but there will be 14 of us at table.
Can’t wait. Good friends, good food, and wood crackling in the fireplace. What a sendoff to Florida.
We’re planning to leave Deward on the 19th, stop at Rex Farver’s near Ft. Wayne that night (he’ll be here for the game dinner with his fiancé, Ruth), then cruise into Venice the day before Thanksgiving.
Speaking of Florida, the reports have all been superb.
Kevin Cooke, who owns Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters with his dad, Bob, was chasing bluegill on Manatee Lake a couple of days ago and caught more than a hundred using small popping bugs and weighted nymphs.
The Spanish and king mackerel, along with bonito (little tunny), have been crashing the beaches in New England-style “blitzes.” I can’t wait to drop the Hewes into the water, tie on some wire leader, and go after those toothy critters!
They school up and simply DESTROY the baitfish. You’ll see body parts sailing through the air, and gulls and pelicans smashing the water, and bottlenose dolphin prowling the edges like a wolfpack with a herd of sheep.
Do I sound excited? You better believe it!
My “Little Brother,” Dave Gibson, told me a minute ago that the big schools of redfish have started breaking up, and there are lots of tailing fish on the flats in Charlotte Harbor.
More fun!
“Pompano have moved in, too” he said. “They’re eating chartreuse, and red-and-yellow Clousers. About a size 2. We’re even seeing some tarpon outside.”
I’ll be ready for action beginning Thanksgiving Day, so check your schedule and let’s go fishing!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Manistee River - October 19th, 2007 |
RECORDED: 
60 °
FISHING: Excellent
OCTOBER 19, 2007
MICHIGAN
The Chinook salmon run has hit its peak and is now “officially” on the downhill slide. That’s the bad news.
The GOOD news is that steelhead fishing in the Manistee River and the Pere Marquette River is getting better and better every day!
We really are blessed, here in Michigan, with such a wonderfully diverse and prolific fishery. Think about it:
The Au Sable and Manistee Rivers routinely yield catches of brown trout pushing 30 inches (in fact, one of my clients, Paco Janka, caught a 30-incher during the Hex hatch a couple of years ago!)
We have Chinooks pushing 50 POUNDS!
Steelhead average 9 pounds. Fish from 12 to 15 pounds are common, and steelhead more than 20 pounds have been caught in the Manistee and PM.
Our special regulation (fly-only) water is open year-round, and if you’re into that special form of masochism known as “Ice Fishing.” You can freeze your patootie on Higgins Lake from January through early March!
Oh, yeah. There’s also smallmouth, largemouth, pike, musky, carp, and—in one very special place I know—world-class bluegill fishing! What a GREAT place to live and fish.
Of course, I’ll get to the FLORIDA portion of my fishing report after I tell you about the SPECTACULAR grouse and woodcock hunting we’ve been having.
We’ve hunted 26 days, and we’re averaging 7.3 birds per hour—which means we’re seeing a bird about every EIGHT MINUTES! The breakdown is 68 grouse and 121 woodcock—and that’s without flight birds down here yet from Canada or the Yoop.
Ken McIntyre, who lawyers for the Dickinson-Wright firm in Detroit, spent two days with me and saw 19 birds the first but just five the second when the heat and wind kicked up. He limited both days on woodcock, though, and his Gordon setter Caliedgh (pronounced Kay-lee, which is Scottish for “party”) had a wonderful time.
Ironically, tomorrow I’ve got another Dickinson-Wright Partner, John Norris. We’re going to hunt the Pigeon River Country.
Yesterday, I had Geoff and Greg Bump. They hunted with me last year “because we can find all the woodcock we want but can’t seem to locate grouse.”
I showed them new covers and got them into grouse last season, and “we started finding birds after we hunted together. In fact, now we even call some of the places we scout “Capt. Tony covers” because we never would have hunted them until you showed us how productive they can be.”
Thank you, Geoff, for that ringing testimonial!
Actually, you’d better thank Ghost, since she’s the one who showed you all those birds last year.
Yesterday, she had a much tougher time. The wind was howling, and the scent was really dissipated while we had her on the ground. Shots were taken, but nothing was bagged.
We used Greg’s Brittany, Fanny, at the next covert. Greg missed one grouse flush, then shot a grouse Fanny had been pointing in an old blow-down stump. Fortunately, the wind had subsided for her.
The nasty stuff popped up again this morning, and has been with us all day and even as I write. I can only hope that it settles down for our afternoon hunt tomorrow!
FLORIDA
The weather’s got things roiled down there, too!
Kevin Cooke, who owns Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters with his dad, Bob, tells me the Spanish mackerel and king mackerel have been popping up here and there. Bonito (little tunny), too.
Best fishing has been in the wee hours of the morning, of course—because of the heat.
There are some juvie and old-dog “resident” tarpon getting themselves hooked, but it’s not a real consistent thing.
The Spanish, king, and tunny fishing will keep getting better as the fish join up in huge schools for the annual southerly migration. We should have good fishing for them when I get back to Venice just before Thanksgiving.
Fortunately, Sarasota Bay is getting back to normal again after that 11-month episode of red tide two years ago. My guide friends tell me the fish are patterning normally again.
And, since there was ZERO hurricane activity in Florida this “season,” none of the fishing areas were disturbed.
Capt. John and I have a lot of trips already booked, but take a look at your schedule and let’s make some time to fish together!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Manistee River - October 14th, 2007 |
RECORDED: 
50 °
FISHING: Excellent
OCTOBER 14, 2007
MICHIGAN
It went down to 27 degrees last night! Daytime high temps are supposed to be in the mid-50s the rest of this week, with nighttime lows in the lower 30s.
That means the steelhead and salmon fishing will simply get better and better and better on the Boyne (40 minutes north), the Pere Marquette (near Baldwin), and the Manistee (near Wellston).
I chatted with Ray Schmidt, who owns Schmidt Outfitters in Wellston, a couple of days ago and he told me the Manistee is positively choked with salmon.
“This cold weather is bringing a bunch of steelies in,” Ray said, “and the brown trout are moving back out into the spawn now that some of the salmon are dying. Fishing has been excellent!”
I did a “Cast & Blast” Friday and Saturday, fishing the Au Sable “Holy Water”, then the Manistee below M72. I’d like to say the fishing was superb. I’d LIKE to say that. But, then I’d be lying.
Fact is, Joe Mitchell, from South Bend, and Grayson Davis, from Valparaiso, Indiana, made beautiful casts that went largely ignored by the brookies and browns. Water was just too cold!
I guess we should have been chasing salmon or steelies, but Joe wanted Grayson to experience the joys of fishing from an Au Sable longboat. So, that’s precisely what we did!
The good news is that although we didn’t boat many fish, we had blue sky and sunshine and spectacular scenery and the guys were splendidly relaxed.
Grayson, who’s a biology professor at Valparaiso University, was particularly thrilled with the “Blast” portion of the trip. He’d never hunted grouse or woodcock, but wanted to.
So, after a course in basic firearms safety, we went afield behind Ghost and she—as always—responded magnificently. She pointed four woodcock in about a half-hour on Friday, and one grouse and seven woodcock in about 30 minutes Saturday.
Grayson was afflicted with the malady most all beginners suffer. He kept staring at the birds and never pulled the trigger until the final bird went up. “I kept waiting for that ‘certainty,’” he said.
“Grayson,” I replied, “the only certainty is that nothing’s going to come down from the sky unless you pull the trigger and put some lead in the air!”
Then I told him not to feel too badly. “Steve Slikkers, who I guided on a float trip earlier this summer, brought his father-in-law, Rod Dunneback, over from Traverse City for a hunt last Thursday.
“The both did exactly the same thing. They kept watching the birds fly off until they were so far out that the cylinder/skeet chokes they were shooting were useless. The pattern had opened up so far there was no WAY they were going to hit anything!
“Ghost and Abner showed them three grouse and 15 woodcock that day. Steve knocked down a woodcock while I was walking Ghost back to the truck on her LEAD, and then they both nailed one on her last point at another covert.
“At one point, I told Rod that he had to pull the trigger and put lead in the air—those hulls aren’t that expensive.”
Grayson went home to Indiana filled with visions of a lot more days walking in the woods behind a good dog.
Me, too, since I’ve got a pretty full schedule of guide trips over the next two weeks.
Hard to believe that in just five weeks Kate and Ghost and Heart will be heading for Florida and the start of yet another season of guided fishing (and preserve quail hunts) down there.
The 2007 Hewes Redfisher 18 has been kept purring thanks to Kevin Cooke, co-owner and shop manager at Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters, and Admiral Bob Parker.
Check your schedule and e-me with some possible dates for chasing baby tarpon, snook, redfish, and all the other finny friends who make us happy from lower Tampa Bay to Charlotte Harbor and Pine Island Sound.
Till next time…
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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AuSable River - October 7th, 2007 |
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
OCTOBER 7, 2007
I had an awful lot of fun last Friday with John Paton and his son-in-law, Gary Cottone. Fortunately, they said they did, too!
John’s daughter, Patty, called me in early July and wanted to know what my schedule was like in late September or early October. “My dad fished the Au Sable River 50 years ago,” she said, “and he keeps talking about it. He’s turning 83 in August, and we decided to give him a guided trip as his birthday present.”
“Does he fly fish much?” I asked.
“No. Never,” she replied. “Is that a problem?”
“Nope. I’m a Certified Casting Instructor for the Federation of Fly Fishers, so I can handle brushing him up on his technique.”
“Great,” she said. “Because they don’t have any equipment at all.”
“They?” I said.
“Yeah,” Patty replied. “My husband will be coming along. And my mom and I wondered if we could maybe take some pictures from the riverbank while they’re fishing?”
And so it occurred on October 5, 2007, that the Paton/Cottone Family Group met me at The Fly Factory in downtown Grayling at 10:30 in the morning.
After the obligatory exchange, everybody bundled back into their respective vehicles and we headed for Guide’s Rest on the Au Sable, a mile upstream of Stephan’s Bridge.
I set out camp chairs for everyone to sit upon and they struggled into the unfamiliar armor of the fly angler. I’d gotten their measurements from Gary several days before, and dang if I didn’t hit it pretty darn close!
That’s the benefit of having been a manufacturer’s representative in the fly fishing industry for 20 years (I sold my territory about 18 months ago). I have LOTS of waders and boots stored inside old refrigerators in my garage. That’s the ONLY way to keep the mice from chewing them up!
So, we got John and Gary outfitted and headed to the river. It was one of those Perfect October Days. Sunny. Warm. Perfect.
Except the fish really weren’t hungry even when John and/or Gary put a streamer pattern in approximately the right spot. John DID get two rises, but I have a sneaking suspicion that neither of those fish had mouths large enough to enclose the bend of the hook.
We spent nearly four hours poking around the Au Sable, and then I could see it was time for John to head in.
It was great talking with him on the river, though. “I was born in Canada,” he told me,” but Dad brought the family to Detroit after my mother died. Her sister lived here in the States, and Dad thought it would be good to have her help raise the kids.
“He never naturalized, though, so I served in the Canadian Air Force during the war. I was a tail gunner on Lancasters. Flew 36 missions in Europe, some with the American Air Corps. I never saw so many planes in the air in one place in my life!”
After mustering out in 1945, John Paton came back to Detroit “and told Dad I was going to get my citizenship papers. It just seemed like I should.”
I asked John how he had come to fish the Au Sable so many years ago.
“I was an apprentice with Ford before working for Borg-Warner,” he said, “and we guys would come up for a couple of weeks in the summer. Threw our canvas (tent) out and got as brown as Indians before we finally headed home.”
“Why did you go so long before coming back?” I asked.
A shrug. “Busy, I guess. Too much to do and raising a family. Three girls. Eleven grandchildren. But this is wonderful. A really grand day.”
And, it was!
Just like today, with Dan Schoeck, Jeff Townsend, and his son, Scott.
I had struck up a conversation with Dick Ritter earlier this summer in the parking lot of McLean’s Hardware store in Grayling. The hatch of his jeep was open, and Dick was sitting next to his English setter.
“I’m a setter guy,” I said, and the conversation was launched.
Well, yesterday Dick called me. “You said you guide in Florida. One of my pals just bought a house in Venice, where you told me you live part of the year. Could you maybe come over this evening and talk with us about the fishing down there? If you’re not guiding, or busy, I mean!
“We’re having rib-eye, and we’d love to have you join us for dinner. Maybe a beer or soda, or cocktail?”
As it turned out, Kate was planning to work way-late on a copyediting job and so she shooed me off with the admonition that “if you turn down a rib-eye roast dinner I’ll KNOW you’re certifiably nuts! All I expect to eat tonight is leftovers.”
OK!
Over dinner, since Dick & Co. also are devout Setter Guys, the talk turned to grouse and woodcock. I casually offered to take some of the guys out hunting this morning, and Brother, they jumped on that point like Ghost on a woodcock!
Speaking of which, she found five of those PLUS four grouse in just under an hour. Eight of the nine are still flying, but one of the woodcock is destined to join 12 more to create the pate’ recipe I gave to them during dinner.
That makes an even 100 birds we’ve seen this season in 13 hours of hunting! Which averages our to 7.7 points/flushes per hour.
It’s been so dad-blamed HOT this season that we can only work the dogs for an hour or two in the mornings—sometimes only 20 or 30 minutes--for fear of heatstroke. BUT the forecast is for daytime highs around 60 starting Tuesday.
Which is precisely why I encouraged Pat Griffith, from Frankfort, to delay our hunt by a day. “Yeah,” he said, “waiting until the temperature drops sounds like a VERY good idea.” Yep. Sure does!
I’ll keep you posted,
Capt. Tony
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Manistee River - September 25th, 2007 |
RECORDED:
72 °
FISHING: Excellent
SEPTEMBER 25, 2007
FINALLY! It absolutely POURED last night and brother, do we need that rain!
With cooler temperatures in the forecast beginning tomorrow, salmon will be flooding (yes, pun intended) the lower Manistee near Wellston, the Pere Marquette near Baldwin, and our own Boyne River a few miles north of us.
Streamer fishing on the Upper Manistee has been superb. The big browns are in full spawning colors, and this flush of cool water will make fishing even more spectacular than it is now.
If that’s possible!
Same for the Big Water below Mio. Bob Linseman, who owns the Au Sable Angler fly shop in Mio, told me a few minutes ago that water temps are in the low 60s down there.
“This rain will really get those big guys moving!” Bob said. Unfortunately, his stretch of the Au Sable closes on Sunday until the last Saturday in April, 2008!
Which is crazy, since that stretch between Mio and McKinley is designated as special-regulation trophy water. The hitch, though, is that it’s not “fly-only”—which would allow anglers to fish there year-round with release-only during the “closed” season.
Since the Manistee River from M72 to CCC Bridge was designated as fly-only a few years ago, we can still float or wade that stretch until the snow flies and the guides (both me and the rods’) freeze over!
So, if you still have a hankerin’ for some huge brown trout and beautiful brookies, the Au Sable longboat is rigged and ready to float!
Speaking of colder weather, Ghost, Abner, and Heart are currently curled up in their crates—inside the Durango—hoping that we’ll go hunting.
That was the plan until the weather stayed warm—nearly 70f overnight! Just the sort of conditions that could easily kill a dog.
I clearly remember what happened to Don Ingle’s lab, Socrates, several years ago. We weren’t in the field more than 10 minutes when Soc was hit with heat-stroke.
We used Don’s vest to carry that 90-pound dog out of the field, then stopped at Club 37 near Baldwin and I covered Don and Soc in the front seat of my truck with about 30 pounds of tiny ice cubes. It saved the dog’s life!
So, the plan is for us to head out early tomorrow morning for a little more “scouting.”
What a season it’s been so far. We’ve seen—or more appropriately HEARD--25 grouse and 23 woodcock. That averages out to 9 birds an HOUR! And we’ve been limited time-wise because after about the first hour it’s been too warm to risk hurting the dogs.
Heart turned 15 weeks old yesterday, and he’s having a blast romping with Ghost and, particularly, Abner. Heart and Abe race around inside my 750-square-foot enclosure, wrestling and running like crazy.
He’s also getting a feel for the woods because I take him out along the river on a 20-foot lead. He runs, then stops and looks back at me. The other day he learned how to “go swimming” in the river.
What a hoot! He tentatively put his feet in the river, then got braver and started splashing. He was a bit startled when he hit a deeper spot, but that little bugger jumped right back into it.
What a smile!
And you should have seen him light up when I stuck an opening-day grouse under his nose! Then, when the woodcock season opened last Saturday I set a couple of birds in the weeds and let him poke around on the lead.
When he found each woodcock I praised him as if no dog in the history of the world had ever done something that phenomenal. He absolutely went NUTS!
But now he knows what his purpose in life is all about! If he keeps progressing as rapidly as he has so far (we still have to learn whoa, however), he might get to actually hunt the last few days of the season.
Speaking of that, I still have a few days open, so check your schedule and come join the fun!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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AuSable River - August 31st, 2007 |
RECORDED: 
81 °
FISHING: Excellent
AUGUST 31, 2007
The radio in my vest crackled.
“Shoulda brought the camera,” I heard Kate say.
“OH, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I said aloud. What I said under my breath is not printable on this or any other public forum. Because I knew. I just KNEW that Kate had hooked a fine trout.
“Tellmetellmetellme,” I said. “How big?”
“Don’t know yet. Haven’t brought him to hand. But he’s a nice one.”
An hour earlier, as we were walking to the river, Kate had asked “did you bring the camera in case I catch a big one?”
“Oh, man,” I said. “It’s on my desk next to the computer. I just loaded the week’s trips, and forgot to bring it.” BIG mistake!
“Where are you?” She told me and I stuck the radio in my pocket and hustled upstream. Two bends above me, Kate was standing knee-deep in the Manistee River with her TFO 480 Finesse bent nearly double.
“Seen him yet?” I asked.
“Yeah. Nice fish. Twelve, maybe fourteen.”
“Lemme get closer so I can see,” I said, and eased down the dry pine needles on the steep bank. When I got next to Kate she raised the rod and brought that beautiful butter-yellow brown trout to hand.
“He’s hooked pretty solidly,” she said. “I’ll just cut the leader. I think I know somebody who can tie another couple of these little muddlers for me.”
With that, a beautiful, fat, honest 14-inch brown trout was released back to the bonhomie of his bar-buddies with a “y’all ain’t gonna BELIEVE what happened to me a bit ago!”
And Kate, grinning ear-to-ear, said “let’s go home. I can’t beat THAT one tonight!”
So, ninety minutes later, I’m punching these keys bragging on Big Red.
“That trout made my summer,” she said on the short drive home. “All those manuscripts I’ve been editing cut our fishing time pretty short this year, but this fish made it all worth while.”
Indeed it did!
What made this fish especially gratifying for Kate is that she hooked it in a deep run she’s been working for YEARS without getting so much as a “howdy-do.” So, when she abandoned a usually-reliable black ant for the small silver-bodied muddler, “it was my last best chance for the night.”
BINGO!
It was a surprisingly slow evening on the Manistee. I had a “Rookie School” in Deward a couple of days ago, and hooked just one fish, but that doesn’t really count because I spent most of the past week teaching rather than actually fishing.
Jeff Gappy and his lady-friend, Nicky Sooksri, spent last Sunday with me on the Au Sable and we had a very enjoyable half-day float. At least, Nicky and I did. Jeff was 1-for-14 on rises and got a bit frustrated at the low ratio of hookups.
“How many of those other 13 fish would you have caught?” he asked on the drive back to The Fly Factory in Grayling.
“Hard to say,” I replied. Some of them might have been trout that refused the fly at the last instant. But most of the time I think it was a line-management issue—too much slack line and the fish spit the fly while you were trying to set the hook.
“That’s the most common problem people have when they’re fishing out of these Au Sable longboats for the first time. It’s completely different from standing still in a trout stream.”
Nicky, a commercial loan office from suburban Detroit, had never held a fly rod until we spent a half-hour in the Fly Factory parking lot going over the basics. “I’m never going to learn this! “ she wailed. Actually, she did a pretty good job until finally putting the rod into the boat to watch Jeff.
“Baby,” she finally said, “I’m glad you already caught me, ‘cause you sure aren’t catching these fish!”
Doug Schneider was another “Rookie School” candidate the following day. We spent a lot of time working on casting, and discussing entomology before we ever suited up and hit the water in Deward.
Doug, who plays guitar when not working at his insurance business, picked up the mechanics pretty quickly. That didn’t surprise me, because I’m ALWAYS in awe of anyone who can play the guitar.
People think tossing a fly line is tough? Man. The very THOUGHT of trying to play a stringed instrument gives me the shudders!
One of the most enjoyable trips I’ve had this season (other than today’s excursion with Kate and her nice fish!) happened last Wednesday with Leo Phillips.
I’d been hanging around the Fly Factory last summer when Leo and his wife, Pat, wandered in. They started talking about Leo floating the Au Sable in a canoe nearly 50 years ago, and how beautiful he thought it was.
“Leo,” Pat said, “why don’t we do a float with Capt. Tony next summer to celebrate your 50th!”
And, so it came to pass. Except for the very unfortunate fact that Pat was having a bad reaction to some antibiotics and decided it was best to stay at Gates Au Sable Lodge rather than joining in the float.
Too bad, because she missed out on watching Leo fly fish for the very first time in his life! He did darned good, too.
When I snapped a photo of him holding a fly rod, he exclaimed “Nobody’s going to believe this.” He spent his formative years playing all sorts of team sports, but “I haven’t been fishing since I was a kid with my dad in Canada.”
Leo raised several, by the way, but didn’t bring one to the boat. Next year, though. With Pat as your witness, Leo!
And now, with Kate as my witness, it’s time to get Ghost and the 11-week-old English setter puppy, Heart, curled up into their crates and snuggle up in mine!
Till next time—
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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