Lizards!

Headed over to the Vinoy basin this morning to try my luck in a different spot. Started with a 1/8oz red jighead and a new penny color Gulp shrimp. The bites came immediately.

On my third cast I caught this feisty 9" lizard fish, which got the skunk off my pole.


The lizard fish were thick in the basin this morning, and just about the only thing biting, probably due to the icy 45 degree weather.

I did eventually catch a nice trout, but it self released near my feet. Still, it felt good to get some catching done, and the new penny color of Gulp shrimp is certainly producing a furious bite from the fish. Unfortunately, my bait was decimated again (see yesterday's photo).

The impossible happens

Left work early yesterday so that I could get the house cleaned up, get a haircut, and fit in some fishing before picking up Reilly at school.


Since I was trying to maximize my fishing to catching quotient, I naturally decided on the Snell Isle Secret Spot, but stopped by Coffee Pot to make a few casts along the way. No bites, but saw a manatee.




The conditions at the secret spot were less than optimal--fifty something degrees with the wind whipping up the water. Using the Yo-zuri was out of the question in that sort of weather, so I tied on a 1/8oz red jighead with a Gulp shrimp (new penny color) and commenced casting.


I had some nice bites here and there, but nothing was big enough to take the whole lure.


I switched to the other side of secret spot and got into a feeding frenzy of some sort. I don't know what kind of fish they were, but they tore up my bait.



By then it was time to head off to pick up Reilly, so I left the secret spot scratching my head, skunked again.

Getting back with the ladies again

Had a spare hour to fish after work today, so I headed over to the Snell Isle Secret Spot to redeem myself from my lunchtime break off.

I started with a 1/4oz red jighead and a white/green Gulp shrimp. I had a few early hits, but no takers. After the bite slowed down, I switched over to a Yo-zuri Crystal Minnow (blue top, silver sides) and hooked up with a ladyfish on my third cast. I managed to get it up the seawall and measure it at 21" before tossing it back in.

I had a few more hits on the Yo-zuri before the bite turned off again. The thing about the secret spot is that it is a very tight space. If I fish too long in a single place, the fish get spooked and go into hiding. It also helps to switch back and forth between topwater fishing and bottom fishing to work different parts of the water column.

After I had fished about 30 minutes, my buddy Kelly showed up and we double-teamed the fish. I switched back over to the red jighead/Gulp shrimp combo and Kelly took over my pole with the Yo-zuri on.

The bite was very hot for the last 15 or so minutes of daylight. I hooked a couple of fish that self-released before catching another 20"+ ladyfish on the jig. Just like this morning, it was a fast retrieve that sparked the hook-up, except this time I reeled the sucker in.

In the meantime, Kelly was getting some nice hits on the Yo-zuri, but couldn't hook up. He had an opportunity to experience the conundrium that is missing a strike on a lure with six hooks on it.

My Gulp lure was shot by then, so I tore it in half, slipped the tail end over the jighead, and commenced casting. To my surprise, the nub started getting hits right away. Toward the end of our trip, I got a monster hit on the Gulp that suddenly released. I was furious when I saw the knot was still intact, but upon further inspection, it appears the knot slipped off the end of the eye on the jig.

By then, we were out of light and the fish had stopped feeding on the surface, so we packed up and headed out. That was some good catching!

Fishyness still does not equal fish

Took my "lunch" by the river again today, and I remembered to bring my camera. Here is the spot I referred to yesterday, which I fished again today. Look at those pilings, look at that swirling water!

I tied on a white 1/4oz jighead (a bit heavier than typical due to the current) and a root beer shrimp tail, and commenced casting.


The only thing I caught was a clump of oysters which claimed my lure.

I walked back up to my car, tied on a 1/8oz red jighead and a grey shrimp tail and went back out to the seawall to fish.

After a few casts I was getting a bit agitated over the utter lack of bites and my inability to properly fish the Hillsborough River. I said to myself, "Maybe I should do something else over my lunch breaks. This is getting ridiculous."

Now, I normally retrieve a jig with a bump, bump, bump followed by a three second pause, then repeat until my jig is back at my feet. I've caught plenty of fish this way. In my irritation, I decided to drastically change my retrieve, and jerked my jig up hard, counted a second, then repeated.

And what do you know, I caught a ladyfish. Unfortunately, I had previously tightened my drag all the way down to break off my line when I got stuck on the oyster bed, so when the ladyfish gave a jump and a pull, it broke my line at the knot.

This whole line breaking thing has got my boxers in a bunch, so it was with great excitement that I read an article in my new Field and Stream magazine about the best fishing knots to use. They all tested above the pound test of the line, which means that the line will break before the knot slips.

We shall see.

Fishyness does not equal fish

I took my lunch out by the river today, which is to say that I brought my fishing rod and not my sandwich.

I spent 30 minutes fishing the spot where I caught the ladyfish a couple of weeks ago. (See this entry for a review of that day.) I fished the whole time with a Yo-zuri Crystal Minnow (silver sides/blue top), and didn't get a bite. I was encouraged to see a large school of mullet around the seawall, so at least the river doesn't look as barren as previous trips.

Next I worked my way down to the Cass Street Bridge. I was able to get in-between the two spans and planted my feet in front of the fishy-est water I've ever seen. I was convinced that I would hook a fish on my first cast. Unfortunately, and much to my disappointment, I didn't catch a fish on my first cast or any of the other casts I had in that next half hour.

I think the level of my disappointment was higher than usual due to the fact that today is marked as one of the four best days to fish in the month of January (according to the solunar tables). One of the other days was January 11th, when Kelly and I were catching fish on nearly every other cast. The tide was just ripping past me today, surely stirring up lots of bait, and yet not a bite. I wonder if it was a case of using the wrong lure, but with the air temperature in the 70's the past few days, the water should have been warm enough to get fish feeding in the top foot of water.

Tomorrow is the last peak day on the solunar tables for January, so I'll be out there again, probably with a different lure on for the sake of comparison.

Squid-ed

I was able to get out to fish around 7:00 this morning, and opting to mix things up a bit, drove over to the St. Petersburg Pier to try some deep water fishing. I was the first one out there; had the first parking spot and everything. It was just me and the elite runners out training for their marathons and 10K's.

At the pier I tried my Gotcha lure and a Gulp on 1/4oz red jig head. The only thing that got a bite was the Gulp/jig head combo. The bite was a little odd--it wasn't the tap-tap-tap of pinfish or the POW of ladyfish. It was more of a gentle pressure that increased steadily. It took me awhile to figure out what it was, but eventually saw that the fish I was catching was actually a big 'ol squid.

Meh.

I hopped back in my car and drove over to the Vinoy Basin, hoping to repeat my luck from yesterday. I had a few pinfish bites and that's it.

After a few days of sucessive catching, it felt a little strange to get skunked.

When I told my dad the fishing report from today, he laughed and said, "You didn't get skunked, you got squid-ed."

Fishing with the road crew

This morning I got up while Reilly and Shawn were still sleeping and drove over to the Vinoy Basin for what I was sure would be some good catching. I even brought along my camera, ready to get some shots of my catches.


I started fishing the marina docks (to the right of the photo above) with a Gulp shrimp threaded on a 1/4oz red jig head. In a dozen casts I only had a few little bites--pinfish most likely--so I worked my way up to the neck of the channel to try my luck there. This was my fishing partner:

He wasn't catching anything either.

Desperate to drum up a catch, I tied on old faithful--a Yozuri Crystal Minnow. Cue uplifting music.

I fished the Yo-zuri in the channel and then along the seawall that borders the bay. The tide was low, but the water was still a good three feet deep. I worked that Yo-zuri every way imaginable: slow retreive, fast retrieve, patterned jerks, random jerks. I even tried to troll it by walking along the seawall with the lure trailing in the water behind me.

The smell of skunk was upon me, so I decided to switch out the Yo-zuri for the jig/Gulp combo and to change my venue as well.

I walked down past the Vinoy to the seawall that borders Straub Park. From there I could cast to the docks on the westermost side of the marina. There were some workers there laying new sidewalk, and a couple came over to chat me up. It turns out they were my good luck charms.

About three casts after they walked over, I got a nice hit on the lure and set the hook on what turned out to be a spotted trout. I wasn't too shy to pull out my tape measure and get his stats (12.5") but didn't want to take a picture of the fish with the guys there. They would have thought it was the first fish I ever caught.

Just as I tossed the trout back in the water, my phone rang. It was Shawn, who was bringing Reilly to meet me at Hooker Tea for breakfast. I packed up my gear, walked across the park to the tea house and met up with my girls:

Now that's a photo of a good catch!

Friday fishing report

I got out of work a bit early this afternoon, so I had about thirty minutes to fish before heading home so that Shawn could go to yoga. To maximize the possibility of catching a fish, I opted to head over to the Snell Isle Secret Spot. This would be the second day in a row fishing there, and I was hesitant to fish there on consecutive days--I don't want to draw too much attention to the spot. The lure of a successful day yesterday was too much to resist, however, and I drove over there as fast as was legally possible.

I still had my DOA shrimp tied on from yesterday, so I started fishing with it right away. It was on about my fourth cast that I hooked up with a fish, a fish that ended up being a 12.5" inch speckled trout.

Why the half-inch accuracy? you might ask. I actually remembered my tape measure today, so was able to get a quick reading instead of measuring the fish against my pole.

I should note that the three trout I've caught at the secret spot over the last two days have all totally swallowed the lure to the point where I can barely see the eye of the hook. Fortunately, all three have also shaken loose upon my landing them, therefore avoiding any gory de-hooking.

After about ten minutes of unsuccessful fishing, I decided to tie on a Rapala that I've been fishing unsuccessfully with over several fishing trips. My first cast produced a vicious hit from a ladyfish, which I missed, and which coincidentally fouled up my hook with my line, much to my frustration as three large ladyfish were following it.

Somehow I ended up with a knot around my treble hook, so it took me a few minutes to untangle. When the lure was loose, I tossed it back to the same spot, ready to hook the waiting ladyfish and...nothing. I tried the spot a few more times and...nothing.

Frustrating.

I tried to cast the other direction for a bit and quiet down the area where they were biting, and after a few minutes of not catching anything in that direction either, I switched back to where the previous ladyfish action was.

First cast and I had a fish on, which leaped high and tossed my lure back into the water.

Newman!

I checked my phone and saw I had just a few minutes left, so made one last cast, deciding to hurl the lure as far as I could. I succeeded in my cast, launching the Rapala far into the sky. Unfortunately, I had cast it so hard that the lure had become disconnected to my line.

I wasn't sure whether to be angry at losing another $10 lure, or happy that I wouldn't have to fish with that blasted thing again. Back to the Yozuri's.

P.S. Fished the Hillsborough for about 20 minutes today with a DOA shrimp. Nothing doing there either.

Catch 47

Shawn has been in New York all week, which means that in the evening, instead of watching HGTV, I can watch fishing shows all night on Catch 47.

On last night's show, "Average Angler Adventures," they aired a program focused on fishing inshore in cold weather. The gist of the show was to tie on a soft body bait, fish slow, and fish for trout.

At about 3:30pm today, Shawn's mom called to say that she was going to pick up Reilly at school. If I didn't mind. Translated into my mind: Would you like to go fishing on the way home instead of picking up Reilly?

I answered along the lines of, "Does a banana peel from top to bottom?"

My goal was a bit ambitious: To fish three spots, 20 minutes each. I started at a new spot, a bridge that I drive over on the way from Reilly's school to 62nd Avenue. There is a canal that runs through there, too narrow and shallow for a boat, and though it runs by a series of houses, I thought it looked underfished.

I tied on a red 1/4oz jighead and a green/white Gulp shrimp, and commenced casting. I had some very light bites on my first and second retreive, just some small baitfish, I imagine. Next, I caught a construction cone. That's right, an orange construction cone, coated in barnacles. You might think that it irritated me, but quite the contrary, I was psyched to see that my line and knot held fast reeling in what I thought was a huge snook. Okay, it was a bit disappointing. I thought I had a lunker on the line.

I worked my way toward the bridge, where the water narrows, and on my first cast, got stuck on the bottom for a second. When I reeled in my lure, I realized that I had missed a rather large bite.

Exhibit A:

Note the missing tail and two hole-punch style punctures in the middle of the body. My best guess on this one is that it was a sheepshead.

I tried what was left of the lure on a few more casts, and then packed up and drove over to the next location: Snell Isle Secret Spot.

Since the Gulp had been decimated as shown in Exhibit A above, I tied on a DOA shrimp in the rootbeer color and commenced casting. On the second cast, I felt some tension, raised my rod and the fight was on. The fish came right to the top, jumped, and dove deep again. As I got it closer to the seawall I saw that it was a large spotted sea trout, and quickly hoisted it up, measured it against my pole, and tossed it back in.

A few casts later, I had my second fish on, but it self-released before I could get it within sight. From the sensitivity of the bite, it was likely another trout.

I had a little daylight left, so cast out toward a dock, and after a few slow bounces off the bottom, caught my third trout, which I was able to land, measure, and safely return to the water.

I walked back to my car, measured my pole marks with a tape measure and found that the smallest trout was 11", the largest 15". The larger trout was my first keeper-sized trout of the season.

If I could ever get around to buying a cooler, I might actually bring home a trout dinner sometime soon.

Fish tale: August, 2008

Last August, my father and I got to go on a father and son fishing trip, just the two of us, which was something we hadn’t done in years.

When I was growing up, my dad frequently took my brother and me fishing on the Rainbow River in Dunnellon. We would stay at the Angler's Resort, a rundown motel that catered to fishermen and fishermen only. There was a strip of a dozen or so rooms along one end of the property, a detached bait shop/lobby in the middle, and a marina at the edge of the property where we could rent a small boat for the day.

We were worm fishermen, and we were good. We knew where the submerged logs were. We knew where the deep holes were. We knew where the fish were, and where they were not. We could catch up to 50 “keeper” bluegill on a good day, and my dad would clean each and every one of them when we returned to the marina. The next day, my dad would fry them up at home in a cast iron skillet.

There was certainly a lot of bonding on those trips.

Last August, when my dad suggested that we head up to his cabin in North Carolina for another father and son fishing trip, I checked with my ever faithful, kind and thoughtful wife, who gave me the green light to leave for a five day, four night trip.

The trip as a whole consisted of eating, fishing and sleeping only (with a bit of scotch thrown in). We caught brown trout, rainbow trout and silver trout. We caught stocked trout and wild trout. I had the pleasure of seeing my dad catch the biggest smallmouth bass of his life. We caught them on fly, we caught them on worm. We caught them on a Mepps and on a fancy crawfish lure.

As it was when I was a boy, each afternoon my dad would clean the fish we’d caught and fry them up in a cast iron skillet. The wild trout I ate on our second night was one of the finest fish I’ve ever tasted.

Though this blog is mostly about my current fishing experiences, I thought I would include this trip because it was so special and meaningful to be able to fish with my dad for five days straight. It was also an important trip because it was the first time in my life that I’ve ever caught a limit of any kind of fish, and that I did it not once, but twice.

Listen to this fish tale:

There is a lake nearby our cabin which is crammed full of fish. In the times that my dad and I had fished it in the past, we could see dozens and dozens of trout lurking nearby, but each time we tried to catch one, the pan fish would aggressively attack any bait we tossed in the lake. Though pan fish are plenty of fun to catch, we were after the bigger ones, but couldn’t figure out how to get to them. After a couple of trips, we had yet to catch a trout.

The day we tried the lake in August, the sun was out and the breeze was gently rippling the water of the lake. We chose a spot near a large structure and rigged up our gear. My dad had a hunch that the larger trout were holding below the pan fish, so he set up the rod with a slip bobber. The slip bobber would allow the bait—in this case a live worm from his garden—to sink quickly to the appropriate depth—in this case he had chosen six feet—thereby bypassing the small fish and getting the worm right in front of the trout’s face. At least, that was the concept.

I baited up my hook first, cast out my line, and waited about 15 seconds before my bobber was pulled under and I lifted my rod tip to hook a fish. I knew instantly from the weight of the fish that I had caught a trout. When I got it over the rail I gave out a holler (we were in the mountains, after all). It was a very nice silver trout, well over 12”.

There was still some worm left on my hook, so I cast out again. About a minute later, I had landed my second 12”+ trout. All this before my dad had even baited his hook.

Between the two of us, we limited out in just over an hour with seven fish apiece. Though the size minimum was 7”, we didn’t have any less than 12” and our largest was nearing 24”. Quite simply, we slayed them.

You can imagine the chatter between the both of us on the car ride back to the cabin.

The next morning, we drove right back out to the lake, certain we could catch our limit again.
We practically ran over to the same spot from the day before, rigged our gear the same way, and baited our hooks with the same garden worms. We caught one trout over the next 45 minutes. Perplexed, we decided to walk around the shore to see if the trout hadn’t moved to a different portion of the lake. We tried about four spots with no success.

A young couple fishing nearby smiled smugly as they reeled in fish after fish, (though they were only catching pan fish). It was a bit disheartening.

We literally walked all the way around the lake and back to our original spot. My dad suggested we try it again for five minutes, and if there was nothing going, we’d head back to the truck. About an hour later, we had caught our limit again. The young couple across the lake watched us catch about half of them before they packed up and left in disgust.

Now, folks, it takes a lot of practice, skill, strategy and luck to catch fish, and I can say without hesitation that my dad watching his slip-bobber strategy go gangbusters was probably one of the top three highlights of his fishing career. Landing the biggest smallmouth bass he’s ever caught probably takes one of the other slots. Of course, you’ve gotta keep a top three slot open for the next trip…

Father and Daughter fishing trip

I took advantage of the holiday today to take Reilly fishing. We had fished once last year and she had caught a few fish, so I figured that this year with her being a year older, we'd have an even better outing.

I drove us over to the canoe launch over by 24th avenue north, pulled out our gear, and got Reilly set up in her chair. The tide was a bit low, but there was plenty of water to fish in.

I baited her hook with a piece of frozen shrimp, clipped on a weight and a bobber, and cast it out for her. She patiently waited as the tide carried her bait from right to left. Not a bite.



I told her to reel it in--her favorite part of fishing--and I cast it out again. No bite. We repeated this process about a dozen times before Reilly lost interest. I gave her a snack and a juice box, rigged up my line with a frozen shrimp, and cast out. I waited. Nothing.

There wasn't a fish to be found. They must have been watching the MLK Day parade downtown.

Instead of forcing the issue, I gave her a lollipop, we packed up our gear, and drove down to Coffee Pot Park. She played on the playground for about an hour, then we headed home for lunch and a nap. Though our fishing trip wasn't successful, Reilly had a great time, which I guess is more important than catching some smelly old fish anyway.

Back to the basin

I got out for a quick fish this evening at 5:30. I drove over to the Vinoy Basin and opting for free parking, chose to fish the north side of the basin.

As I've done nothing but lose my precious Yo-zuri's lately, I decided to tie on a Rapala that has yet to catch any fish, but that fishes just like the Yo-zuri, except that it runs deeper. There were a few guys fishing out on the edge of the neck when I started out, so I opted to cast around the docks a bit first.

Not a bite.

After thirty minutes, I walked back to my car and tied on a 1/4oz red jig head with a white/green Berkely Gulp shrimp. I tried the docks again and nothing was doing, so I walked further to the neck and started to cast out into the current. Immediately, I started getting some light bites; most likely pinfish.

I continued up the neck, twice hooking a small fish, only to have it self-release. Just past the channel marker, I cast out and got an immediate hook-up. The fight was lazy and loose, so I assumed I had a trout on the other end of the line. When I landed the fish, I could see in the waning light that I had indeed caught a silver trout, 9" or so. I unhooked him as gently as possible, which he rewarded me with a nice bite on my thumb. I laughed and tossed him back in to the water.

The sun set, I walked back to my car in the dark, smiling and happy.

I don't know if it is the fish, my fishing, or both, but I've been doing a lot of catching lately, and I have to say that I like it.

Fishing on the coldest morning of the year

I was out the door by 6:30 this morning. As I drove down to the Snell Isle Secret Spot the thermometer on my dash registered 42 degrees. Chilly.

I parked and quietly assessed my spot. The wind was blowing at a pretty good clip, so I walked down the seawall and fished back toward where I parked, thereby keeping the wind to my back. I was fairly warm except for my hands, which were freezing.

I fished the hole for about 10 minutes, and then decided to head back to my car to warm up. Nothing was biting except the wind.

On my way back toward home, I decided to do some scouting of the eastern side of Coffee Pot, which I'd yet to fish. I saw some cast netters along the seawall, looking dejectedly over the bayou. The tide was dead low, and the only thing they could cast for was barnacles and mud. When I reached the end of the seawall, I circled back toward the bridge. Just as I was about to turn onto the bridge, I looked out and saw a school of fish feeding in the middle of the bayou. I backed up, parked, and pulled out my gear.

I said good morning to the cast netters, then climbed down the seawall to a large piece of concrete, hoping the few extra feet would help me cast far enough to reach the feeding fish. My first cast was woefully short, so I reeled back in as quickly as I could and fired out another cast. This one went long and straight, and on my second jerk of the Yo-zuri I felt a bump and hooked on to a nice ladyfish. It jumped five times before self-releasing right in front of me.

I casted back out and proceeded to land four ladyfish in a row, two in the 16 inch range and two 20 plus inches. The largest one I measured at 21 inches. The cast netters were giving running commentary of my catches, including critiquing my cast distance, rate of retrieve, and time required to land each fish. It was entertaining.

One of the fish I foul hooked, and by the time I got it in, the hook was well wedged just below the dorsal fin on the ladyfish. My fingers were so cold from getting wet and being exposed to the air that it took me a few minutes to get the hook out. (Note to self: Start carrying pliers. Honestly.)

The sixth fish I caught jumped six times before breaking off my line at my feet. I watched dejectedly as it swam off with my very favorite and best producing Yo-zuri (green back, gold sides).

That's $20 in lures lost in less than 24 hours, but when the catching is good, it doesn't seem to hurt quite as bad.

My first break off

Today I found myself downtown with an hour to kill, so I drove over to the Pier, paid $3 to park, and pulled my two-piece out of my trunk. It already had a Yo-zuri Crystal Minnow tied on (black back, silver sides).

I fished it around the south end of the basin, slowly working my way up to the neck. About halfway up the seawall, I saw a small fish come up and tap the lure, but no bites otherwise. I reached the neck and was trying to cast across it to deeper water, but the wind was whipping east to west and I couldn't cast more than 15 feet. I put in about five casts and then started working my way back to calmer water.

At that point, the wind suddenly died down, and I took the chance to fire a long cast across the neck. As I worked the Yo-zuri back into sight, I saw two large fish race up to it, the one on the right taking the lure and diving to the depths with it.

I lifted up and set the hook, and the fish came to the surface and tail walked a good three feet before going underneath and immediately coming to the surface again with a jump and a furious thrashing of its head which made the rattle inside my lure sound like a maraca.

As the fish hit the water, my line went slack and I reeled it in. The Yo-zuri was gone, and the line had a clean break it it. In the few seconds I saw the fish, I thought it was either a large ladyfish or an below-slot snook, and judging by the clean break in my line, I am going to assume it was a snook that used its razor-sharp gill plate to sever the line. I'm guessing the snook would have run somewhere between 20 and 24 inches.

It was a tough break. I had really been wanting to catch a snook for some time, and the break-off had come at a time that I didn't have my tackle box with me, so there was no other lure to continue fishing with. I dejectedly packed up my rod, set it in my trunk, and drove off for home. I'm hoping to get up tomorrow morning for a quick fish of the same spot.

With deep respect, I honor the lady

This afternoon I decided to head out into the beautiful noon sun and fish the Hillsborough River a bit. Though the river has been barren every time I've fished it so far this year, I was hopeful that the cold front that came through yesterday would push some of the fish out of the bay and into the tributary in search of warmer water. I tied on a 1/4 oz Yo-zuri crystal minnow, (black top, silver sides) and walked down to the water. It was low tide.

There are two docks down near where I fish. I worked them both with about 12 casts each, starting at 9 o'clock on a watch dial and working clockwise to about 3 o'clock. It was on a cast to about 1 o'clock on the second dock that a fish simply crushed my lure and took off in the opposite direction. My line was screaming off the reel. Moments later, the fish launched itself into the air in an attempt to shake the Yo-zuri out of its mouth. It was a ladyfish. A big one.

When the ladyfish hit the water, my line went slack, and I knew I had lost the fish.

And then the fish proved me wrong by jumping out of the water again. My line tightened up and I knew my hook-set had to be true.

Each time I got the fish within 15 or so yards of me, it would peel off some drag and jump. We repeated this for a good five minutes, part of which I had an audience for, as two maintenance workers saw the commotion and came down to the dock to watch.

Eventually I got the fish to the side of the dock. I hoisted it out briefly to unhook it, measured the beast, and then rolled him back into the water.

A 22.5 inch ladyfish--my biggest ever, and the first fish of any kind that I've pulled out of the Hillsborough.

Recharged in my belief that the Hillsborough actually does hold fish, I commenced fishing, but not another bite. It deserves mention that while I was fishing the first dock, the biggest bull redfish I've ever seen (outside of TV) swam right by my feet. It was so big it startled me.

Here's hoping for more Hillsborough catches in the future.

My buddy and me

Today Shawn took Reilly to the zoo with a friend and her daughter, so I took out my pal Kelly on a fishing expedition. I didn't take him along for friendship as much as someone to prove that I was actually catching fish.

We started out at the Vinoy basin up by the channel. I was throwing a Yo-zuri (silver body, black top) and caught a 6 inch lizard fish after a dozen or so casts. Kelly was also throwing a hard bait.

After 10 or so minutes we tied on 1/4 oz jig heads (red for him, chartreuse for me) and slipped a Berkely Gulp shrimp over the jig. The action was immediate, but light. Lots of little bites. A pesky puffer fish bit my shrimp in half.

A few minutes later, Kelly did reeled in his first lizard fish of the day, so at least he got the skunk off his rod. The miss of the day also went to Kelly in the same spot--he got a big hit, and when he pulled up his plastic shrimp, it had two vertical slashes through the bait--likely a nice trout did the honors.

We worked the spot a bit longer than we probably should have, but just as we were about to give up, I caught a small trout, which self-released about halfway to the seawall. A few casts later I brought up a 12" Gulf Kingfish (also known as a "whiting"). I didn't know what it was at the time, but its distinctive downward pointing mouth helped me identify it when I got home.

Next up was Coffee Pot Bayou. The tide was still coming in, so we fished the most western part of the bayou, where the water is deeper. Kelly pulled in two more lizard fish, and I caught another as well. All three were 12" plus, which meant a decent fight for a little trash fish. We gave up on Coffee Pot pretty quickly and drove over to my secret spot on Snell Isle.

We fished the hole from the seawall first, and Kelly wasted no time in catching a couple of lizard fish. I made a few hookups, but wasn't able to bring any to shore. Either way, the bite was on. We were getting pounded on the Gulp shrimp.

After a bit we drove over to a dock near the secret spot and as an experiment, I suspended a Gulp shrimp under a bobber and tossed it out into about 5 feet of water. Then, I tied my trusty gold/green Yo-zuri onto my other pole and went to work.

On my second cast, I pulled in a 14" ladyfish. Kelly, not to be outdone, pulled a ladyfish up using a Gulp shrimp. I moved a bit further down and hooked up with another ladyfish, this one 12" or so, and on my very next cast, pulled in a pretty 12" sea trout. Kelly then got his entire Gulp shrimp chomped off his jig, and went to the truck for a lure. I caught two more ladyfish, who self-released on their first jump, and then got a call from the wife that it was time to come home.

Kelly and I finished off the day with a burger at El Cap, then headed home.

Above is the undisputed hero of the day, complete with battle wounds.

The lizards they have died

I managed to squeeze in a second one hour fishing trip today by diverting to Coffee Pot Bayou on the way home from work. I fished with a Rapala suspending lure on the way down to the bridge, and though it looked awesome under the water, the fish didn't agree.

On the way back to my car, I tied on old faithful to my line (see previous entry) and on my third cast hooked a small fish. The little guy zipped through the water like a razor, and from its length in the water, I thought I had a trout, but when I hoisted him from the water, it turned out that I had caught a 9" lizard fish.

The lizard fish is considered a trash fish, but I was just happy to get the skunk off my new pole.

It's a full moon tomorrow night, so I'm hoping to get out on the water. The fish were very active in the Bayou this afternoon, and I saw 4 or 5 manatees working their way out to the bay. Great fishing, and hey, a little bit of catching too.


I grabbed the above photo off the web of a lizard fish.

Only slightly better than the last

I left work today around noon and went fishing over my lunch hour. I walked a few hundred yards to my favorite fishing hole, tied on my most productive lure...

...and got set to fish. I was a little more excited than usual because I was testing out the new rod I just got in the mail yesterday from Cabela's.

I know, you're wondering what happened to my old rod and reel, and the answer is "nothing." My other, much loved rod has the one disadvantage of not being a two-piece, so each time I needed to get it in my car requried the process of putting my back seat up and down, and frankly, that was becoming a chore. Secondly, I never was able to invite anyone along fishing with me, since I only had one rod and reel. Now, with two, I can get some lines wet with a friend.

The new rod fished very well. Being a 7-footer, it casts very long and with little effort. The only difficulty I had in transitioning from my other rod is that the extra foot creates a level of sensitivity that I found a little hard to adjust to. It's not a bad thing--just different. The reel is smooth as silk.

I didn't catch anything, but did see some baitfish, a school of needlefish and a school of mullet, so I was at least encouraged that there were some fish out there. The tide was incoming and moving swiftly, which is ideal, but the only thing I saw in the water besides the aforementioned was a crap load of trash.

As much as I love fishing for the love of fishing, I'm about ready to do some catching now. Please.

Where did you go for lunch?

Today I took my hour lunch break on the Hillsborough River, which meanders behind my office. Though the Hillsborough River is freshwater, it is brackish to salt where I fish it, due to its proximity to Tampa Bay.

The water was very clear today and I didn't see a single fish in the water, save a single mullet that splashed nearby. The clarity of the water made me think that the tide was outgoing (and therefore more freshwater than salt), and that might explain why there were few fish to be found. I was fishing with my green and gold Yo-zuri Crystal Minnow.

I didn't catch anything.

The scarcity of fish was vexing for me. In times previous that I have fished the river, I have spotted snook, redfish, pinfish, and big schools of jack. There is a major construction site on the other side of the river, which makes me wonder if there are toxins coming from the site, or if the noise and vibration (which is substantial) is scaring off the fish.

The one benefit of being able to fish on a day with at least three feet of water transparency is that I was able to mentally chart where the deep holes, oyster beds, and lure stealing hazards are. I was also able to practice a variety of retrieval styles and see what effect the movement and speed had on the Yo-zuri.

There is a cold front coming through at the end of the week, and I'm hoping that some gamefish will seek refuge in the warmer waters of the river. Stay tuned.

Getting the skunk off

I took an hour between work and a board meeting I had this evening to fish Coffee Pot. I drove down to park in my usual spot off 23rd and saw a group of people sitting in lawn chairs and fishing next to the mangroves. Next to them were some cast netters, and next to the cast netters were more cast netters. I sighed and drove down to the northernmost end of the Bayou where I found yet another cast netter and another guy fishing with a rod and reel.

I felt a little like a dog watching another dog pee on his favorite fire hydrant, and my instinct was to get angry. Normally I have the whole seawall to myself.

What is ironic is that I only have myself to blame for the popularity of fishing Coffee Pot. After all, I caught my first snook of the season last week--right off the very mangroves they were seated before--and I took my time in landing it, then held the snook up high to make sure anyone driving or walking by could admire my angling skills before releasing the fish. Essentially, I had advertised, and people were buying.

I found a quiet patch of the seawall, about fifty yards or so, and fished it south before turning back and fishing it north toward where I parked. There were a lot of mullet in the area, and the tide was high. Typically I cast out on an angle toward the docks were snook are wont to hide, two casts per dock, then I move on. With the tide at its peak, I mixed in a few casts parallel to the seawall. With the tide up, the water was deep enough to run my Yo-zuri crystal minnow over the oyster beds that are normally exposed to the air.

It was there that I got a vicious hit on my lure. I thought from the fight that it was a small jack, but it turned out to be a 7 inch pinfish. A 7 inch pinfish is nothing special, but it got the skunk off my rod and reel, and for that, it got a gentle return to the bayou.

Snell Isle Sweet Spot

I was out on the seawall by 7:00 this morning, ready to greet the sun and hoardes of biting fish. I was in my secret spot over on Snell Isle, which has in the past produced a consistent bite and a few nice catches.

The tide was near high and had some movement, but not enough to push all the surface weeds out of the way. Every other retrieve was marred by seaweed getting tangled in my Rapala's treble hooks. Still, I was hopeful to actually catch one today.

Early on in my expedition, I saw some fish tailing out of the water and cast my lure just past them. Holding my breath for the strike, I twitched the lure through the pod.

Nothing.

I cast again, and again pulled the lure through the pod.

Nothing.

I walked up the seawall to see what fish was vexing me, and came upon a school of 200 or so mullet. Figures. I don't know how that school was affecting the other fish in the area, but I packed up my gear an hour later without a single nibble.

Alas.

Debut of the glow lure

I didn't get out of the house until 6:00pm, which was a good 15 minutes past sunset. I wanted to take advantage of what natural light was left, so I drove to my nearest fishing spot: Coffee Pot Bayou.

To counter the low-light conditions, I tied on a Yo-zuri Arc Minnow that my brother-in-law had given me for Christmas. The lure has a special compartment for a small glow stick, which I charged up with my my mini-Mag lite. I don't usually go for glow-in-the-dark type gimmicks, but since it was a gift, and since I didn't have anything but the street lamps to fish by, I thought I'd give the lure a try.

I fished from the mangroves at 23rd Avenue down to the two docks with fish lamps, and didn't catch a thing. I tried every retrieve speed and style in the book and couldn't entice a single bite. The tide was slack and the water was calm, and though I had some moonlight, the only fish I saw around were some jumping mullet.

As I walked the seawall, I noticed a lot of oysters, seaweed, and other sea detritus around the sidewalk--evidence that the cast netters had been working the area hard earlier in the day. I'm not sure how the increased cast netting has affected the availability of sport fish in the Bayou. Part of me wants to blame them for scaring off the snook, but then again, I just caught two last week in the Bayou. (More on that later.)

After an hour, I hoofed it back to the car and drove home. I didn't lose a lure and the night was beautiful, so I've got to call it a successful fishing trip.

The obligatory first post

Since I was a child, I have enjoyed collecting things. There was a rock collection, a stamp collection, and when I was a bit older, a beer bottle collection. There have been collections that continue and collections that have abated. Like the beer bottles, most collections have been thrown away.

A hobby (or I should say a sport) that I have participated in all my life is fishing. It started as many hobbies do--from a family member--my father. Telling and retelling the stories of my trips with him often is more fun than the outings themselves.

I don't keep fish that I catch, and the few times that I do keep a fish, it is for the dinner table. And though I'm a collector, I don't mouth fish. I celebrate the fish by letting it go.

And so, the purpose of this blog--must they all have a purpose?--is to record those stories because if anything, I am a collector.