Father and Daughter fishing trip, Part II

I woke up at 7:00am and quietly snuck out to get dressed for a morning on the seawall. My daughter woke up and came out and asked me why I was getting dressed, and I told her that I was going fishing.

Naturally, she wanted to come, but I told her that daddy was going by himself. Oh, man the tears came hot and fast and she said, "But daddy, I'll bring my own fishing pole!"

I felt pretty guilty, but left without her. As penance, I didn't catch anything all morning, and to add insult to injury, I lost one of my big Yo-zuri's. (I did get one nice look at a snook, but he didn't take the lure.)

After feeling guilty all day, I asked Reilly this evening if she wanted to go fishing with me. She said yes and was really excited. On the drive over, I asked her if she thought we were going to catch any fish. "Yes," she said, "lots, daddy!"

I chose a spot on the western seawall over in the Vinoy Basin. I had about a dozen frozen shrimp along, and I set up her rod with a small split shot and a tiny hook I use for tying trout flies. After slipping on a little piece of shrimp, I cast out her rod. A few seconds later, she reeled up a small fish. I haven't the slightest idea what kind of fish it was. It looked like a cross between a sculpin and a scorpion fish. Choosing caution, I used my pliers to set it free, and tossed it back in. Reilly was excitedly running all around me the whole time.

On the next cast, she reeled up a little tiny puffer fish. More squeals of excitement.

The bite slowed down a bit after that, and I took a moment to bait up my rod with a full shrimp and cast it about twenty yards out. Reilly took quite an interest in my rod, and wanted to reel it in every time I cast it out. After awhile, I set it up on my tackle box next to her rod so that I could explain to her how to watch for a bite. At that moment, her rod bent double and she reeled up a pinfish as big as my hand. In fact, it was so big that Reilly's little reel couldn't even turn, so I had to hoist it out of the water by hand. A small crowd had gathered, so we dutifully showed off the fish, Reilly gave it a pat, and we tossed it back in.

As I went to re-bait her hook, Reilly excitedly told me I had a bite. I turned around to look at the rod, saw nothing, and told her that there was no bite. I continued to bait her hook, and she insisted there was a fish on the line, so I called over my shoulder to go ahead and reel it in.

When I looked back, she had my seven foot rod in the air, the rod tip bent, and was reeling in a fish. I watched her fight it until she totally ran out of gas, and I took over to find a 15 inch stingray on the line. Reilly was running around me yelling, "A stingray! Look everyone, a stingray!" I had her stand back a safe distance, flipped the stingray on its back to get the hook out, then grabbed the stringray by the tail with my pliers and tossed it back in.

Reilly would follow up this catch with another big pinfish, and by then, it was dark and it was time to head home and wash off the shrimp.

I can't tell you how fun it was to fish with her today. She even helped me pull off the heads and tails of the shrimp to bait her hook. The kid is a natural. Next time I just have to remember to bring my camera!

Wind + Cold = skunked

I started my morning at Demen's Landing. I decided to fish the spot where I had the big hook-up a few weeks back, security guard be dammed.

Overnight, the wind had picked up and had blown in some cold air. The result was some pretty aggravating fishing conditions. Even in the marina, the water was pretty choppy. After about two dozen casts, I gave up and started walking back to my car. I saw the security guard making his rounds, but I was out of his range before he came by.

Since the conditions were poor, I decided to do some scouting. I found two spots that I think will be good producers for me. I fished each one for a bit, but nothing was biting. The closest I got was when a big jack followed up my Gulp white mullet on a 1/8oz chartreuse jig head. He turned away at the last second.

Next stop was the Vinoy, a place where I can always count on a bite. Today: no bites. Not one. Not even a nibble from a pinfish!

I halfheartedly tried Coffee Pot Bayou over by the bridge to Snell Isle, but nothing was biting there, either.

It is still hard to believe that I fished a whole Saturday morning and not only didn't get a fish, didn't get a single bite. Bah.

The macks are running!

I decided to go over to Demen's landing again this morning for two reasons:

1) Yesterday I only fished a small portion--albeit the best portion--of the landing. I thought it couldn't hurt to try the other 200 yards or so of fishable seawall.

2) The security guard approached me yesterday while I was wrapped up in trying to catch the biggest fish of my life. I wanted to scope out the area a bit more to see if he was doing regular rounds or how in general he patrolled the area, because there is no way in hell I'm not fishing that dock again!

There is a nice channel that runs from the bay to the docks that is deep and has a nice current. I saw a bunch of sheepshead working the area, so I figured there was probably other life around. I tied on a green top/gold sides Yo-zuri and got to work. I think it was about three casts in that I hooked up with a good fight. At first I thought it was a ladyfish, but absent any jumping, I started to think it might be a small jack. Imagine my surprise when I pulled up a Spanish mackeral:



I knew the Spanish macks would be moving in soon, due to the glass minnows I've been seeing in the area, but I had no idea it would be this soon. The only drawback to catching the mackeral is that I need to now reconsider my leader situation. I've been fishing without a leader all winter, but if there are going to be mackeral in the same areas where I'm fishing for trout and ladyfish, I have to put on a leader or I'm going to go through lures far too fast. Those macks have some nasty teeth.

After fishing Demen's landing a bit longer, I packed up and drove over to Coffee Pot. I wanted to toss the Yo-zuri a bit and see if I couldn't find a snook somewhere in the bayou.

After about fifteen minutes and not a bite, I packed up again and drove over to the Secret Spot. I fished the Gotcha first, and was getting several very tentative bites. I don't know if the fish were undersized, or if somehow there were some larger pinfish around, but the lure was getting hammered (though no hook-ups).

At some point I cast out and my Gotcha just kept sailing, and I knew that the line had snapped. I hate it when that happens. Gotta check the line regularly when fishing with that heavy Gotcha!

I switched back over to a gold sides/green top Yo-zuri and on my first cast hooked up with a big trout! It was a keeper for sure, and was fighting me like a champ. I kept the slack out of the line and the drag light and worked it slowly to the dock, taking every possible precaution to no lose the fish.

It didn't matter. He thrashed and spit the lure. My quest to land a keeper trout continues.

I couldn't coax any bites out of any other fish after that, so I decided to go try the shallower water, and hooked up with a big lady right away, so big in fact, that I couldn't get the whole fish in my viewfinder while kneeling down to unhook it. Here is a close up:



Shortly after I hooked up with another lady:




And another:




A manatee cruised right by me:


I landed a small lady after that, then the school must have moved, because the bite turned off.

Not a bad day on the water!

They should have called it Demon's Landing

Got out before first light this morning to try out a spot where I had sighted a few snook swimming around. It wasn't quite light out yet, but there was a bright moon and some dock lights to cast around.

I started casting out my She Dog topwater lure, but as enticing as it looked to me, the fish weren't biting. Oh, and the fish were there. I saw three snook in the 20" range cruse by the dock, and three big jacks working around the dock too. I knew in my heart it was only a matter of time until I hooked up with something.

I walked back to the car and switched out the She Dog for a 1/4oz Yo-zuri (green top/gold sides). I was a little hesitant to put it on since it was the hero of this day. Also, since the lure technically belonged to my dad, I was afraid of losing it. But, seeing the most productive lure in my arsenal just sitting there, I tied it on anyway.

I tossed out a couple of casts, but nothing took it. On the third cast, I dropped the lure right in a little school of glass minnows, and just as the lure hit the water, I got a big hit that immediately went slack. I reeled in the line and there was nothing attached.

While I walked back to my car for a new lure, I snapped this photo.

My lure options were difficult again. I had a larger Yo-zuri that had yet to catch me anything, and one of my most productive lures, a black top/silver sides Yo-zuri from this day. Though the prospect of losing another heroic Yo-zuri was not high on my to-do list, I knew the lure could catch fish, so I tied it on.

I was on my fifth or sixth cast when I tossed the Yo-zuri into a shallower spot by the dock light. I had a quick hit, and I pulled up to set the hook. What happened next shot adrenaline through my body as the fish pulled my lure in a 50 yard bee-line in the opposite direction.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZzzzz.

I finally stopped his run by tightening down the drag and then started the process of pulling what felt like a log back through the water. Pull, reel. Pull, reel. Pull, reel.

As the fish got closer, I looked for a spot lower to the water where I could land the fish. I knew the fish was far too heavy to hoist out of the water using just my rod. As I turned back, I couldn't find my line in the water. By the time I located it, I realized the fish had started swimming toward me and toward a dock off to my left. I reeled back in as fast as I could and started pulling against the fish, but it saw its salvation and took it.

As my line wrapped around the dock piling, I knew it was over. If I was thinking straight, I would have released the bail and waited for the fish to swim out. Instead, I tried to horse him off the piling, and ping! the line snapped.

I cussed my heart out.

When I turned around, there was a uniformed security guard there. "Sorry, bud, but you can't fish here."

%$#*&#

Folornly, I packed up my gear and drove over to the Vinoy basin. I caught a ladyfish on a Gulp mullet, which at least got the skunk off, but my heart just wasn't in it. As you can see in the photo, I didn't even bother taking the photo in focus.

Losing that fish is tough to stomach. Losing the fishing spot is even worse.