Dear friends--
We have returned from a month in southwest Florida. We stayed at the Boardwalk Caper condos in Fort Myers, whose facilities include an extensive array of boat slips. We tied up our little ten-foot pontoon boat in one of these, but it got little use because on most days it was just too windy.
While I did manage to get out to Bunche Beach and other wade-fishing locations, most of my fishing was centered on the barnacle-encrusted pilings of the yacht basin, rising early and staying late in hopes of hooking a big snook. Events of the first week were interesting and enlightening and set the tone for the rest of our stay. I hooked a very big snook, surely over 20 lbs., but we parted company on his second trip around the pilings. I also broke off a few big jack crevalles. Regrouping from these initial setbacks, I respooled with PolyPro braided line (20 lb. test) and 40 lb. fluorocarbon leader, casting MirrOlure plugs and DOA Shrimp as well as casting with a 9-weight fly outfit when it was light enough to see where to place the back cast. A full report of activities over a month would rival a Russian novel in length, so I will simply abstract the most critical statistics:
Snook: four caught and released, three hooked and lost; three snook landed of legal size--one 28 inches, one barely legal at 27 inches, and one thumper measured at 30 inches, subtracting two inches for an overexcited angler and the dark of night. Three were caugth on MirrOlures, one on DOA Shrimp. none on fly.
Jack crevalles: 13 hooked and released, five hooked and lost on the pilings; biggest jack was 30 inches, probably 15 lbs., a bunch at the nine to 12 lb. range, and two five-pounders; most were caught on DOA Shrimp fished with a heavy outfit bought in Fort Myers--30 lb. braid + 50 lb. leader. Saw several jack attacks in the yacht basin: first the water rose, then a thousand mullet hit the concrete sea wall with a sound like a giant slapping a wet floor with a heavy towel, then at least a hundred jacks after them, and perhaps 12 dolphins (porpoises) in hot pursuit. Sitting in my little boat, for a few moments all I could see were open mouths and pieces of mullet flying through the air. I have seen jack attacks at long range before, but this was the first at such close quarters. It was a maelstrom, and it took several minutes for the water to come to rest. As quickly as they came, so quickly they disappeared, with a few bits and pieces left for the pelicans and the gulls.
Others: In additition to jacks and snook, I did manage to catch two flounders, one a delectable 15 inches and caught on fly (?!), a few small mangrove snappers, also on fly, a few gafftopsail and hardhead catfish, and a larger than usual leather jack (full of spines and sharp projections), a small black grouper (maybe a gag grouper, but I don't think so).
I went out in a boat twice with a Capers neighbor, Tom Arnold. We caught hordes of ladyfish, a few nice spotted sea trout about 18 inches, one pompano (not mine, unfortunately) and assorted lizardfish, etc., mostly on fly. I also spent an afternoon with a local guide, Jeff Zasadny. We fished a quiet bay with float and live pilchards (?) for snook and redfish. The float and leader rig whirled through the air with a most menacing sound when cast and seldom landed where I intended, but we caught three snook, four redfish, and one jack. Several more were hooked and lost. For several minutes we were surrounded by snook busting bait ("surrounded" = four or five chomping at any given moment)--not a jack attack, but very lively.
I became known as the old man who fishes from the piers at odd hours. I was on the prowl most days for at least three or four hours, some days for quite a bit longer, hoping for a hookup with a big snook. Such events came seldom, but were always exciting when they came. The last snook and the biggest I caught jumped four or five times, crashing into the pilings and banging its head once on the walkways between them. But none of the passersby could imagine such events, so most of the social exchanges were like this: PB "How are they biting? OM "Nothing so far." PB "Oh. Well, good luck!" OM "Thank you." Or this: PB "Anything today?" OM "Not yet. Got a jack yesterday." PB "Are they good to eat?" OM "No." PB "Oh. Well, good luck."
If they only knew.
Best regards,
-- Don Larmouth
Next week we have to begin making our trek back to the northern tundra, leaving our winter home, my southern fishing buddies and our friends. Ou
r time here was once again truly enjoyable, and no, we do not miss the Wisconsin winter. The past couple of days has been in the 80's. All we ask of you all is that the snow is gone, ice is out and that no white stuff is forecasted. We believe we can deal with the cold.
