Ron and I met at 6:45 Sunday morning at Punta Rassa. I was shocked at how quiet it was for a Sunday morning. It was a beautiful morning, and with the temperature in the mid-70's, a hint of fall was in the air. It felt good. We made the quick trip to the B span flats for bait, where there were several other boats already at work.
I started the chumming just to get a chance to read the current and wind combination and figure out where the chum needed to be placed. Then Ron took over, and it was only a matter of a few minutes before we had bait all over the place. It was mixed from net plugger size to outsized shiners, ballyhoo, pinfish, and tons of threadfins. It was no time before we had the well loaded to where I couldn't see the bottom.
Once the well was full and the boat cleaned up we put out baits right there and began fishing. We hope to catch some keeping size trout, but they can be hard to come by in the hot months. We caught a couple of nice mackerel, but neither Ron nor I care about eating them, some trout, and ladyfish, and put one trout into the well. Once things tapered off, we headed further up into the Sound.
We hit a few more spots in search of keeper trout, but didn't find any that measured up. As we got later into the morning, we decided to see if we could find a redfish. We settled on a flat that Ron immediately recognized, because he's caught redfish there before. The tide was already high, and the water very dark. Visibility was very limited except right along the shoreline.
We started off anchored and pitching ballyhoo sticks and shiners. The only thing that wanted our bait was catfish. We switched to silver and gold Bagley's hammer finish spoons that have rattle chambers built into the underbelly. Great spoons! We drifted slowly along casting. It wasn't long before I spotted a nice red cruising right off the shoreline. I decided at that point to put a piece of ballyhoo out the back of the boat and let it troll along as we fished our spoons. It wasn't long before we heard the rod go off, and Ron had a redfish on. It was the only one we got to the boat that day.
As we fished, Ron had at least two redfish hit his spoons, mangle the weedguard, and leave without ever setting off the alarm. As we were leaving the area we stopped to fish a large pothole before using it to launch. My first three casts to the edge of the hole were absolutely hammered by redfish, and how they managed not to connect beats me. Then, I caught a nice trout. There were more trout and ladyfish, but we never got another red to eat.
Finally, it was time to eat, and we headed off to the Waterfront Restaurant. I thought it would be packed, but it wasn't. I was overdue for some calamari, and sure enjoyed it. After a couple of happy meals we headed home, ready to put the kayaks into the water on Monday.
I had presented Ron with several options for our first kayak trip; the flats at Pineland, Estero Bay, the flats at Bunch Beach, or any place he might want to go. I was itching to fish Estero Bay, and as it turned out Ron thought that would be an excellent place to take the yaks on their first trip, too. We agreed to meet at Guts and Glory Tackle on San Carlos at 6:30 Monday morning.
Prepping for a kayak trip is very different from prepping for a boat trip. And, can take a lot longer because with each kayak involved everything has to be readied, stored in the tow vehicle, and then put into the kayak or mounted on the kayak once you're at your fishing destination. You can't leave a whole lot in a yak while it's in transport. So, the first reminder I got was that the preparation time is much longer with the yaks. So is the post trip breakdown and cleanup. Everything in the boat has to be rinsed and put away. In spite of the difference, I was at the shop at 5:50 AM.
The owner, Bill, who is quite a colorful character, stepped right out to the kayaks, and when I got out of the car he said, "Man, I never saw kayaks like these!" "Really cool!" That started the conversation. I told Bill Ron and I were going to Estero Bay to explore and fish, and he quickly told me I should be going to the little launch at the Mound House at the end of Connecticut Street, explaining that it is very close to all the deep backcountry that no one ever fishes, and that it's full of redfish. He showed me the area on his chart.
Once Ron arrived I told him what Bill had been saying about the area, and asked if he wanted to change plans, or stick with Estero Bay. Ron being very much the adventurer, said he was up for exploring the area. So, we bought a bunch of shrimp and an extra bait bucket, and took off.
We drove in the dark looking as best we could for our turn, and eventually came to the end of the island. Somewhere along the way we had missed our turn. We turned around and slowly made our way back as it began to gradually get lighter. Not far down from the bridge, we found our turn, and took it. When we got to the Mound House the gate was locked. The sign said the park opened at dawn and closed at dusk, but there was no one around. After wrestling with the short wheelbase kayak trailer that steers very quickly, I finally got turned around, and we went to a 7/11 for coffee and apple strudel. When we got back to Mound House the gate was still locked, and we were pondering the wisdom of hanging around. We went through the fence to explore the place, and while we were doing that, a guy finally arrived and opened the gate. A half hour later we were in the water and rigged, and took off.
Ron and I were expecting a lot of very shallow water. But, we were in a narrow body of water with a very strong current, and our 5.5 ft. stakes wouldn't touch the bottom. First lesson learned was go ahead and have an anchor out and ready to use, even if you don't use it. Second note to self was to add at least one cleat on each kayak for tying off anchors, etc. Both kayaks have the pulley system installed for use with the anchor or stakeout pole, but Ron thought a cleat would be in order, and it is.
We covered a lot of ground quickly as the strong current sucked us down the waterway. Finally, we got to the cut back into the backcountry that I remembered on the chart, and we took it. It led into a maze of mangrove keys and islands which are not widely separated, and down at kayak level they all look the same. I went one way, and Ron the other. I decided to fish with some of the shrimp we had, and play with the Delorme TN-40 GPS that had been the last, late arrival before our trip. I hadn't had time to familiarize myself with it other than to download the software for it. I found water that I could just reach the bottom with the pole, and anchored.
I was afraid that Ron would get back into the mangroves and get turned around, which would be easy to do without a compass or GPS. I gave him a loud blow of my whistle, and soon heard him give me a blast back. We were good. I continued playing with the GPS, and fortunately it's intuitive enough that I figured out how to get it in the track mode. I only got one bite on the shrimp, but a lot of them disappeared without a wiggle.
Finally, I thought I should check on Ron again, and blew my whistle. I heard Ron acknowledge and a few minutes later he came cruising around the corner from the direction I'd heard him. I had anchored at the mouth of a cut he had disappeared into much earlier hoping that way he couldn't miss me. As he paddled up I asked if he'd had any luck.
"Got a nice trout and a snook!" Ron said with a smile on his face.
"Caught more than I did." I replied.
"Been trying to figure out the GPS".
Ron seemed to be having a good time, and I certainly was. I was amazed at that point, hours in the seat, that it was so comfortable, and that I had no hint of a backache, or anything else. The Watersnake trolling motors worked great, and are so light as to make them a non-factor to the balance of the yak. They have two speeds forward and a reverse, and the low speed setting was more than sufficient for cruising around. I'll measure on the GPS next time out, but I'd guess they cruise you along at around MPH. I accidentally hit high speed while stopped once, and that's not a good thing. For a second I thought the torque reaction was going to flip me, but it didn't. But, I don't think I'd use high speed for anything other than running from weather or to fight some kind of high wind or current. Ron noticed that he had to reach back a bit to reach the tiller on the trolling motor to steer it. His next great idea was that I should try to fabricate some kind of handle extension for them. I was in the Ultimate, and a bit closer to the trolling motor, and it wasn't an issue for me.
We fished around some small keys near the main waterway for the duration, and caught one more nice trout. Everything was caught on jigs. I did have one good take earlier while I was waiting on Ron, and it certainly took the bait in typical redfish fashion. I waited on it to just get tight against the circle hook, but it dropped the bait as it did.
At this point it was after noon, and I became aware of the fact that in spite of the Bullfrog 36 SPF on my legs, the tops of my legs were getting very pink. Something I hadn't seen in years, as I'm always standing up in the Talon. I realized that I was going to have to wear my long zip-offs in the yaks.
We headed home. We decided to run on the trolling motors all the way back. We'd used the motors off and on during the morning, but done a lot of paddling. I was curious to see if a prolonged run would faze the Odyssey PC-925 batteries. Neither showed any sign of depletion, and I suspect that we could run those 18# thrust motors all day on low speed without draining the batteries. We'll find out soon enough.
Ron and I agreed that our first trip on strange waters neither of us had ever fished, on the maiden voyage of the two Native Watercraft, was a lot of fun, and a success. Ron had some good ideas on a few things to do to the yaks, and he had fish for dinner. And, I still can't get over how comfortable the seating is in those boats.