October 12, 2011

Location: Coffee Pot Bayou

Tide: Dead Low

I went out for an hour and a half tonight and hit spots down the seawall from the Vinoy Basin all the way to the pullout at Coffee Pot Bayou. I was throwing a Zara Spook Jr. the whole time, and didn't net a single hit.

The good news is that the snook were stacked up in Coffee Pot. I saw at least two per dock, and at the Crescent Lake outflow, watched two high school kids reel in three snook in a row under a green dock light. They were throwing silver dollar size greenbacks. A higher tide and a Yo-zuri Crystal Minnow, and I'll be in business.

All the snook I saw were between 20 and 24 inches, which is the first stock of juveniles coming back after the freeze two years ago. It's good to see the snook population coming back.

Danger: Skunks ahead

Location: Mullet Key and Mullet Key Bayou

Tide: Outgoing

Kelly and I tried for an afternoon session today, and you could tell our lack of confidence by how many beers we packed.

Fishing is tough in the summer, and toughest in the afternoon. If the storms don’t chase you off the water, the piss warm water will send the fish into deeper water or a lockjaw coma.

We hit the water around 5:30pm at the same launch as Saturday and paddled out to the same water where we lit up the fish on Saturday and generally threw the same lures we threw on Saturday, except today was Tuesday, not Saturday, and so the fish were on their weekday schedule.

In short, we caught nothing. I had a follow from a ladyfish on my Yozuri, and if the ladyfish aren’t biting, nothing is. (Except pinfish. They are always hungry.)

The wind was brutal and the weeds were bad and so after a half hour, we packed up the kayaks (without breaking them down first) and drove down the road a bit to try Mullet Key Bayou East.

The mangroves gave us a good windbreak at MKBE but the only fish to be found were pinfish and mullet. I might have been satisfied to tail-hook a mullet, but nothing was doing. Kelly and I got double skunked.

At least we had the beer.

Fishing Report – June 24th, 2011

Location: 4^th Street

Tide: Incoming

Today, Kelly and I bailed of work early to try our hand at som

e afternoon fishing. We headed out to 4^th Street out of convenience, and I beat him there by about 15 minutes since he stopped for bait. I launched quickly and just as quickly, a rainstorm ran up on me. I parked my yak under the Howard Frankland Bridge to wait it out. Just as the storm passed, I saw Kelly launching. While I waited for him to paddle over, I half-heartedly threw my Yo-zuri and Gulp around the bridge pilings, but nothing doing.

We paddled east toward The Cut. There was a lot of action in the water, so we stopped to throw a few topwaters along the way. I got a hit, but not hook-up, and we both had a few follows after that, but nothing to the boat.

We fished The Cut hard for the next hour and a half. I got totally skunked, but Kelly picked up two under-slot redfish on a live shrimp suspended under a popping cork.

At some point I anchored up to throw at a downed tree in the water that was holding glass minnows. Just before I made my first cast, I saw a red tailing around the tree. I commenced to place one beautiful cast after another at that bastard but his mouth was slammed shut.

Annoyed, I paddled over to Kelly, told him the story and said he could probably hook up with the red with a well-placed live shrimp. He obliged, and on his second cast, came tight on the red. After he boated the red and let it free, he awarded me an assist.

Quick shot at the Secret Spot

I ran by the Secret Spot for a few casts this afternoon. I wouldn't normally choose the Secret Spot these days, but it right along my drive to pick up my daughter, so I figured, what the hell.

I fished the space between each dock for two casts, working back the lure in my soon to be patented pop, pop, reel, pop. Nothing doing.

As I was fishing today, I was thinking of two things, both related.

1) On my favorite fishing blog, the author, Brian, catches tons of fish by simply trolling a Yo-zuri Crystal minnow off the back of his kayak.

2) My friend Steve, a master angler in his own right, and the one who recommended Yo-zuri's to me in the first place, said that he likes Yo-zuri's because you can simply retrieve them and catch fish.

Last weekend, we took a little vacation to Flagler Beach, and while there, I had the opportunity to try out some kayak fishing. I don't want to get into the skunking I took on that trip, but it was a good learning opportunity. It also got this bug in my mind about changing my retrieve from the pop, pop, reel, pop to a more straight retrieve.

With about five minutes left to spare, I cast out between two docks and reeled in the Yo-zuri on a slow, steady retrieve, right along the dock pilings. About ten feet from me, a big fish appeared out of nowhere and nailed my bait. As fast as it hit the bait, it pulled free, but in that second, it totally changed my perception of fishing a Crystal Minnow.

I tried several other straight retrieves at different speeds, but found a moderately slow retrieve created the most wobble, and, as it turns out, the most interest. On one of my last casts, three small mangrove snapper surfaced to attack my lure all at the same time. Again, no hook up, but after not catching anything for so many weeks, a couple solid hits can really make a guy's day.

Persistence on a four star day

It was a four star day on the solunar tables on Wednesday, so I took every opportunity I had to fish. I hit the docks on the Hills first. It was a beautiful fishing day, low 70's, very light breeze out of the north, and not a cloud in the sky. It would turn out to not be much of a catching day, but hey--the fishing was great.

I worked the whole seawall and both docks without a bite:




Later that afternoon, I drove over to my mom-in-law's to pick up my daughter. On the way, I tried casting the Gotcha under the Madiera Beach bridge to no avail. The water was very chalky today, which considerably lowers the effectiveness of artificial lures, as those lures depend on sunlight and clear water to be seen by the fish.

When I was under the bridge, a young teenager who was castnetting nearby let out a whoop. He had castnetted a huge sheepshead. His dad ran to the truck, got out the cooler, and came down and threw that keeper sheepie in. He gave his son a congratulatory slap on the back and you could see that kid's smile a mile away. It was a touching father and son moment and I was glad I got to witness it.

On my way back to the car, I saw a fishy spot over near a restaurant:

It was clearly marked no trespassing, so I lined myself up near a structure that would hide my illegal activities:

The sun was directly in my eyes, so on my first cast, I played it careful and tossed the lure out. The cast came up short of the dock, but diligently worked the Yo-zuri back to the seawall. I put a little muscle into my second cast, and dropped the Yo-zuri right under the dock. I let it sit for a three count, then worked it back with my classic, pop, pop, reel, pop. When the lure was less than ten feet away, a snook quickly rose to the surface and yanked the Yo-zuri under.

I was so surprised that I just yanked up on the rod. The snook came to the surface and angrily thrashed it's head about a half dozen times before breaking off my line. The bad news is obvious. The good news is that a few seconds later, my Yo-zuri floated back to the surface.

I tied it back on and casted it out, and was surprised when it got whacked close to shore by a feisty ladyfish. The ladyfish also self-released, and I decided to pack it up.

It was a great day of fishing, and though I am broken-hearted after losing yet another snook, I was glad that I persisted on a tough catching day.

On my way back to my car, I saw a father and daughter team fishing with live shrimp further down the seawall. I told them about my snook and ladyfish adventure, and the father just sort of nodded nonchalantly. However, when I was pulling away, I saw them down by the dock, eagerly casting away.

I hope they caught a big one.

Cold is the secret

There was a big cold front pushing in yesterday, and I thought that the low pressure might get the fish in a feeding mode, so I stopped by the Secret Spot for a dozen or so casts.

I had a Yo-zuri crystal minnow on, green back/gold sides. The wind was blowing at least 20 knots, so I only casted with the wind. The advantage was that my casts were traveling twice as far as usual. The disadvantage was that my casting options were effectively cut in half.

I retrieved my third cast right alongside the dock, bringing the lure past several pilings. About halfway back, I switched my retrieve up and immediately got a strong hit. The fish flashed under the water and just as it started to peel drag, the line went limp and my Yo-zuri floated back to the surface. My best guess from the flash is I had a 15" jack on the line.

Just as I was giving up, I noticed that there was a huge pod of glass minnows holding along the seawall. I positioned myself upwind from them and whipped a cast past the pod, then started my retrieve. To my surprise, I immediately got a big hit and the reel started to scream off drag. The fish stayed low and I dug the butt of my pole into my gut and hung on. Then, the line went limp.

@#$!

Later that night, I was watching the Average Angler on Catch 47 and Glen Pla was fishing for bass. He was doing the whole Bassmaster exaggerated hook-set, and I was surprised, since I always saw this as showboating. But later in the show, he said to the guide on the boat, "For those people at home, explain why I'm setting the hook so hard on these bass." The guide went on to describe how the mouths of bass are like fiberglass, and if you don't set the hook hard, you'll lose the fish after the first five seconds.

Hmm.

This reminded me of a time before this blog when I was fishing Coffee Pot Bayou. I hooked a big snook, it jumped and tossed my lure straight away. I cast back out, hooked him again, and to be sure I wouldn't get jumped again, I double-set the hook. I landed what ended up being the biggest snook of my fishing career.

When I hook a fish now, I simply raise the rod to increase the tension in the line and that, coupled with the momentum of the fish, sets the hook. This is a practice I've developed from fly fishing for mountain trout. If you set the hook too hard or fast on these fish, you'll either pull the fly from their mouths, or rip the hook right out of their very soft jaw.

Snook are not mountain trout. Snook eat fish bigger than mountain trout. Maybe it is time to start driving home the hook.

Meh.

Time to face a few facts:

A) The fish are behaving entirely different now that the weather has changed for the warmer.

B) That means that all the fishing places and the tactics that slayed the fish in those places are now moot.

C) Furthermore, that means that the catching will go down while the fishing stays the same, at least until I figure out how to fish the warm weather.

Yesterday, I tried to match the small baitfish by fishing with a Gotcha. I managed to jump an extremely agressive ladyfish, but other than that, the bite was nonexistent.

This morning, I fished the Gotcha again at the same places in CPB, but couldn't entice a bite. The thing was, it was a gorgeous morning, the water was flat, the weather was cool...life was good, and so was the fishing.

Below is an example of the fish I've been catching lately:

Minnow crashing

Tried the Hills for about twenty casts yesterday, but it is just getting too hot to be fishing in a shirt and tie.

Spent the evening over at the Mayhew's house, and afterthe girls were fed and Dora was on, Kelly and I snuck out for a little fishing at CPB.

The fish were behaving the same as the day before, crashing schools of minnows on the surface of the still water. Since the water was still deep from the high tide, the fishing was easy.

Kelly and I both tied on Yo-zuri Crystal Minnows in the 1/4oz size and started casting. It wasn't long before Kelly hooked up with a feisty ladyfish, which he got within leader length before it self-released.

I managed a good hit in the same spot, but wasn't able to set the hook.

About a half-hour in, Kelly and I were approached by a woman who was "looking for Treasure Island." I'm pretty sure she was looking a paying customer. She bugged Kelly and me for several minutes, and by the time we got back to casting, twilight had turned into darkness, and it was time to pack up the gear.

I did try a topwater plug for a few casts, but it didn't garner any interest.

I'm going to label this one "catching" and "skunked" since both happened, and though I wasn't the one who caught the fish, I will give myself partial "guide credit" for scouting the location.

SKUNKED

I fished just about everywhere I could today, including the secret spot twice: once at 5:30pm and then again with my buddy Kelly at 8:30pm.

I fished mostly with a Yo-zuri, and a bit with a Gotcha.

I don't know if this is how it will be over the warmer months, if the cold weather that was pushing in the fish will have the opposite effect as the cold turns to warm and then to hot.

I mean, not a bite. Not a nibble, not a missed hit, not a fish seen or heard over two and a half total hours of fishing. It was barren. It was frustrating.

Fishing, east coast style

The last two days I was on a business trip in the Palm Beach area of Florida. Knowing I would be around a lot of water, I left my two-piece rod and reel in the car in case a fishing opportunity should arise.

That moment came on Tuesday when I was in-between appointments and had an hour to kill. I was in Juno Beach proper, and decided to take the highway out toward the beach. Along the way, I came across a mangrove lagoon in John D. MacArthur Beach State Park:


The water was about 3 feet deep all the way across, and I could see fish hitting the water all over the place.

I parked my car, pulled out my gear, and walked over to the lagoon. On my first cast, I watched a large trout swim up to my Yo-zuri, take a sniff, then turn away. My heart almost stopped.

Several casts later, I hooked up with a trout, but like always, just as it got close, it came to the surface and threw the hook. I don't know what it is about me and trout, but I can't land a trout to save my life!

I did get one more hard hit from a trout, but couldn't make the connection.

I was a little disappointed at not being able to land the trout, which would have been my first east coast catch in Florida, but getting an hour of fishing in a foreign land was still nothing to complain about.

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 Hills is alive

Took my lunch out by the river today. As I walked to my fishing spot, I saw a lot of activity in the water, included a school of needlefish and three schools of mullet. One of the schools of mullet had three or four sheepshead swimming with it, something I've never seen before.

Curious.

I fished my usual spots to no success, so decided to try a more remote spot by the bridge that I hadn't tried in awhile. As I walked over to the bridge, I scanned the water for signs of life and saw a BIG snook hanging behind a little bend in the mangroves.

I walked further downriver of it, quietly got within casting distance, and tossed out my Yo-zuri.

I held my breath as I retrieved the lure.

No bite.

Tossed it out again.

No bite.

Repeat.

I don't know if I spooked the snook on the cast, or if it was the Yo-zuri I was using today. It was the 1/4oz size, in a white/orange/yellow combo. The color was garish, and I was a little skeptical when I tied it on, thinking it might spur a reactionary or defensive strike from a fish, but it didn't appear to be matching any specific real world bait fish.

Now I'm left wondering how it might have gone if I had strapped on my big 3/8oz Yo-zuri that I caught that snook on the other day. Or, it could be that the lure was okay and the snook either wasn't there anymore or wasn't feeding.

I'll have to test out the new Yo-zuri at the secret spot. If it doesn't work there, it won't work anywhere.

Got yer Gotcha

Even though the salinity was low in the Hillsborough today at lunch, I decided to fish it anyway. The day was simply too nice to not be outside.

To my benefit: the incoming tide. To my detriment: the incoming tide was slow and the water was very clear--too clear.

I was fishing with the same 5/8oz Gotcha from yesterday, and it produced a nice hit on my fifth or sixth cast. Unfortunately, the hit broke off my line, and as if to rub it in my face, the ladyfish jumped out of the water and flicked my untethered lure tantalizingly close to where I was standing.

The lure sank out of sight.

I went back to my car, tied on a big Yo-zuri (I can't think of the weight, but it is about twice the size of my usual Yo-zuri's). I figured that the larger Yo-zuri would raise the possibility of a ladyfish biting the lure instead of the line.

I did get two nice hits from very large ladyfish, but each time the ladyfish let loose of the lure before I could set the hook. That is one of the disadvantages of using a larger lure--with the treble hooks further apart, it lowers the possibility of a fish getting hooked on the first bite.

So I was skunked, but it was a great way to spend the early afternoon. The sun was out and for once the wind wasn't howling down the river.

The Hills disappoints again

Took my lunch on the river today. I decided to pull out all the stops and put on a Gulp shrimp, which has never failed to produce a bite for me. Except today.

I tried it over by the bridge that connects Kennedy to downtown, and couldn't entice a single bite. I must have tried a dozen casts with different retrieve rates before I got hung up and had to break off my line. Bah.

Since I had only burned a half-hour, I walked back to my car, tied on a Gotcha lure and went back out to the docks for some casting. Got hung up twice but was able to pull the lure loose, which is a testament to the new knot I'm using.

No bites there either.

Back at the desk, I'm already dreaming of my next chance to get on the seawall.

Fence jumping again

Threw about two dozen casts into the water around the secret spot from the dock side again. I guess the fact that I trespassed successfully yesterday further emboldened me today.

The weather was rotten for fishing. The wind was blowing about 15 mph, which made casting difficult and chopped up the water so much that I think the fish had a hard time seeing my retrieve.

I did get one really powerful hit, but missed the hookset. It was a very large ladyfish and might have set a new record for me, but after a good tug, the fish let go and I was left to mutter a few curses.

I also saw a few fish follow my lure up all the way to my feet. I'm not sure why they aren't taking it--maybe it was the weather conditions--or maybe all the scratches and dents in my trusty Yo-zuri are betraying its artificial make-up.

After my few dozen casts, not one, but two sets of castnetters showed up, so I packed up my stuff and headed off. There is no way that all that castnet action is not spooking or permanently scaring off the fish.

Maybe it is time to find a new secret spot.

Catching or Skunked? You be the judge:

Had twenty minutes today and hit CPB for a few long casts. Tied on a 7/8oz silver Gotcha with a red head and walked down to my usual spot where the ladyfish have been holding.

No bites on the first few casts, so I knew that the fish weren't there. Still, I kept casting, and suddenly, right as my cast hit the water, my drag started screaming as my line flew off my reel. Shocked, I looked up to see a huge wake plowing through the bayou. I knew that could only mean one thing, and my heart sank as I realized I had hooked a manatee.

The manatees frequent the warm waters of Coffee Pot Bayou, and I avoid the places that they gather to ensure that my hooks aren't coming in proximity to their flippers and other assorted parts. Every afternoon they commute from the shallows out to the open flats of the bay, leaving odd dimpled wakes behind them.

The manatees were on that commute when I hooked one of them. I couldn't see them today when they were cruising through the water because the wind was blowing hard out of the east and chopping up the water.

When I told this story to Shawn, she said, "Well, what did you do?"

There is nothing else you can do in that situation besides tighten up your drag and see if you can break off the line. As a testament to the 10 pound braid that I had on my reel, that wasn't easy to do, but eventually the line went slack.

I was thrilled to feel some weight on the line, which meant that my lure had pulled free from the tough hide of the manatee, rather than remaining wedged in its skin.

When I retrieved my lure, I packed up my gear and headed back to my car. No reason to fish any longer today.

An interesting bycatch

Today I took my lunch out on the river, and let’s just cut to the chase and say that I didn’t catch crap. I caught an oyster shell, okay? Meh.

As I fished, countless pieces of flotsam drifted by, perhaps the ugliest remains of last weekend’s Gasparilla parade. One plastic bottle floated close to the dock I was fishing from, so I reached my pole down and pulled it up. Upon closer inspection, I found that the bottle had a message in it.


I took the bottle back to my office, used some scissors to cut it open, and found this inside:


This is my best transcription of the note, which was written in severely slanted cursive on Paula White stationery:

“Eyes of Love”

Is my health getting any better? “No.” Every day my strength grows weak in my flesh. “But” Spiritually I grow strong by leaning on my father in heaven fully trusting with Sincere Love.

A pain struck my heart last night. In the state of Confusion on my heart called “Love.” “But” for God is of no Confusion. Trying to fight the Passion with Compassion of knowing I am in “Love.” How did this happen? I ask myself. A Burning desire burns within me.

How much longer can I hold back? Thoughts of you melt me inside. Eye contact speaks with deep unforgettable words.

You were never just a Donor. You were a soul mate.

I’m in “Love”!!! Even in painful silence, that’s good enough for me.

I don’t care what people dare to think! “Love” was made for you and for me.

Signed, Shawynclaus


The text is accompanied with a drawing of a house, a tree, and a horse. Over the house, the author wrote: “Stable for Beautiful.” The horse is accompanied with the text “Beautiful white.” Across the top of the page is a title of: “AWAY IN A MANGER.”


Detail of the letter:

I have to day, I can't stop thinking about this letter.

Double skunk

Grandma picked up Reilly from school, so I was free to take an hour and a half and fish after work today.

I decided on Coffee Pot, as it has been producing pretty well for me lately, in fact, I think I've caught three or more fish the last three times I've gone there. The tide was slack, the water glassy, and the air temp warm but dropping.

I started by the mangroves, then worked my way to the bridge to Snell Isle, then worked my way back past the mangroves to the manatee spot, and then back toward the mangroves again. All with only one bite. One measely bite which I identified as a ladyfish due to the slimly line that I reeled back in.

When I got back to the mangroves for the third time, I made a few long casts and finally hooked up with a small ladyfish which jumped and self-released. I was glad to hook a fish, even if it didn't get the skunk off.

Technically, to have "caught" a fish, the general rule is that if the fish is close enough that you can touch the leader, it is considered "caught." So even though I hooked a fish, I didn't technically catch it, so the skunk remains on the pole.

I'm heading over to the Vinoy Basin tomorrow to try again. Will I be skunked again? Stay tuned.

Head to the Hills

Took about 30 minutes out of my day to try the Hillsborough. The tide was incoming and the water was warming, so I thought that would provide a decent shot at increasing the normally nonexistent bite of the river. Also, I realize now that a higher tide equals higher salinity, so the higher the tide the better chance there is of a snook, ladyfish, or trout actually being in the river.

It didn't matter. All that thinking, scheming, and all around brain effort was for naught.

I'm going to stop by Coffee Pot on the way home and see if the fish aren't biting there. It will be near high tide in St. Pete, which is the best time to target fish in the shallow bayou.

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.