Got out to the Hills for what is probably the last time before the summer heat hits, barring any noticeable activity in them there waters.
I continued to try my new straight retrieve with a Yo-zuri, slowly modifying in twitches over time. I had two follow-ups by what might have been ladyfish, but no bites. Both of the follow-ups were off the dock in deep water.
On a shallow cast, I did end up getting a vicious hit and hook-up with what ended up being a needlefish. It was a lot like playing a lizardfish, whith the needlefish slicing back and forth erratically in the water. Not wanting to bring the fish in, I played it until it self-released.
I didn't know needlefish hit lures. The Hills continues to surprise.
By the way, I'm labeling this post with "catching" since I did catch the little sucker. Frankly, I'd count a tail-hooked mullet these days.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, April 10, 2009
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:
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
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:
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:
Thursday, April 2, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Back on the board
I met Shawn for a coffee over at Kahwa this afternoon. After downing our macchiatos, Shawn left to pick up Reilly, and I sped off for a bit of fishing.
I tried the Secret Spot first. I was feeling skeptical about catching anything, as the last few times out on the docks haven't produced any bites at all. I was fishing with a 3/8oz blue back/silver sides Yo-zuri, and the tide was very high and moving.
About 15-20 casts later, and without a single bite, I decided to move on. There is no use in casting if the fish aren't there. Since the tide was so high, I knew it would be a perfect chance to fish the shallow water of Coffee Pot Bayou.
I drove over, parked at the mangrove clump near 23rd Avenue North, and got to work. There were tons of glass minnows in the water, and I could see fish aggressively hitting the water where they were grouped together. I thought about tying on a topwater plug, but wanting to make the most out of what time I had remaining, I left the Yo-zuri on.
The spot where I finally settled is where the manatees normally gather. I guess the warm weather has pushed them out to a different location, because they weren't present today. Their absence presented a great opportunity. They normally hang out right at a outflow where the freshwater from Crescent Lake runs into the saltwater bayou. This creates a spot where there is a nice current bringing in a consistent flow of nutrients to the water.
My first cast was dead on, and as I worked the Yo-zuri back, I noted my line was moving toward my left instead of directly back at me. It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize that I had hooked a fish that was swimming toward me, but when I did I pulled up on the rod and a 20 inch plus ladyfish launched itself into the air.
The lady pulled a bit of drag, but I landed her in good time and tossed her back into the water. I checked my knot and then cast out again toward a pod of glass minnows. Nothing there, but then I heard another fish crashing some minnows over to the dock at the right, and cast over there. Then I saw some minnows being crashed to my left. Then my right. Then my left.
This went on for some time, and though I didn't land any more fish, I did have two more strikes. I think if I downsize to a smaller hardbait, I'll have a much higher probability of matching the glass minnows and therefore will increase my strikes. I'm also thinking a small spoon could do the trick.
It was a relief to find a spot where the fish were actually feeding, and to finally get the skunk off my gear. Can't wait to get back over to the bayou.
I tried the Secret Spot first. I was feeling skeptical about catching anything, as the last few times out on the docks haven't produced any bites at all. I was fishing with a 3/8oz blue back/silver sides Yo-zuri, and the tide was very high and moving.
About 15-20 casts later, and without a single bite, I decided to move on. There is no use in casting if the fish aren't there. Since the tide was so high, I knew it would be a perfect chance to fish the shallow water of Coffee Pot Bayou.
I drove over, parked at the mangrove clump near 23rd Avenue North, and got to work. There were tons of glass minnows in the water, and I could see fish aggressively hitting the water where they were grouped together. I thought about tying on a topwater plug, but wanting to make the most out of what time I had remaining, I left the Yo-zuri on.
The spot where I finally settled is where the manatees normally gather. I guess the warm weather has pushed them out to a different location, because they weren't present today. Their absence presented a great opportunity. They normally hang out right at a outflow where the freshwater from Crescent Lake runs into the saltwater bayou. This creates a spot where there is a nice current bringing in a consistent flow of nutrients to the water.
My first cast was dead on, and as I worked the Yo-zuri back, I noted my line was moving toward my left instead of directly back at me. It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize that I had hooked a fish that was swimming toward me, but when I did I pulled up on the rod and a 20 inch plus ladyfish launched itself into the air.
The lady pulled a bit of drag, but I landed her in good time and tossed her back into the water. I checked my knot and then cast out again toward a pod of glass minnows. Nothing there, but then I heard another fish crashing some minnows over to the dock at the right, and cast over there. Then I saw some minnows being crashed to my left. Then my right. Then my left.
This went on for some time, and though I didn't land any more fish, I did have two more strikes. I think if I downsize to a smaller hardbait, I'll have a much higher probability of matching the glass minnows and therefore will increase my strikes. I'm also thinking a small spoon could do the trick.
It was a relief to find a spot where the fish were actually feeding, and to finally get the skunk off my gear. Can't wait to get back over to the bayou.
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