FISHING BETWEEN FRONTS
That's what winter fishing often gets down to; fishing between the fronts. And, that's what it was this week.
We had a pretty good tide and a descent weather day on Monday for my old friend Tom Joseph, and his friends Bill and Maryland Gabney. As usual, it was pretty windy, though, ahead of an approaching front. I had bought $15.00 worth of hand-picked shrimp at Shack Baits, and the Talon was loaded with an arsenal of artificials, but I also wanted to try to catch some bait. As unseasonably warm as it has been for so much of this winter, you never know what the fish are going to prefer. We headed right out to the A span of the causeway, and in maybe half dozen throws we had enough small shiners and medium sized threadfins for a day of fishing.
After a quick washdown, we were on our way to the first stop of the day. It was a good one, and we were there for quite a while catching snook. I had told the guys early on that Maryland would probably outfish them both, as it seems to be a law of nature. They always do. And although Maryland had the hottest rod, Tom caught the best snook of 27 inches at the first stop. I think they were all caught on shiners and threadfins. I used the small shiners mostly to chum the snook.
Once the bite slowed we moved on, electing to see if we could find some redfish. At the first redfish stop we caught two nice speckled trout, but couldn't get a red to eat. I think the tide being pushed ahead of schedule by the southerly wind had already pushed them out of the potholes.
We moved on to a favorite flat of mine up in the middle of the Sound on the Pine Island side. I made a completely different approach than I normally do because of the prevailing wind. I also was confident the fish were there because it's rare that they aren't. But to my chagrin, when I stopped the Talon wasn't quite floating. Of course, we had four in the boat, and your truly was the main ballast. But, the boat was also fully fueled, loaded with gear I normally don't care during the warm months, etc. and needs probably 10 inches to float, although it only needs 6 inches to run. Of course, with me out of the boat it floated, and I eventually pushed us into position to fish the trough the fish are normally in. But, in spite of our efforts we had no strikes. In fact, I couldn't see definitive evidence that the reds were there. It took a while to get to a pothole big enough to launch from because the water was still so skinny. Eventually though, we were on our way to the next spot.
We were looking for snook and trout. The wind was really beginning to howl, and I was concerned about the ride home. A south wind can make the passage across the front of St. James City very nasty if it blows hard enough. We caught one nice trout from that spot, and that seemed to be all she'd give. I decided to finish up the day closer to the ramp so that if the wind really got wild, we wouldn't be caught twenty miles from home in it. Predictably, the water in front of St. James was already churning. I opted to slow down because Maryland being the smallest of the three to see around, was on the happy seat on the console in front of me. The "happy seat" has no hand grips, and requires a good fanny grip when it gets really bouncy out there. Maryland seemed to be having fun, though, as if on a Disney ride of some kind.
The south wind was perfect for our last stop of the day, and of course was one reason I chose it. I hadn't been there since winter had set in. Some chumming with our small shiners quickly had snook popping all around. We were on fish. And, after several snook, Maryland completed the fulfillment of the laws of nature when all hell broke loose, and she eventually landed a beautiful 30 inch snook. The prophecy was fulfilled. Maryland had indeed caught the first, the most, the last, and the biggest! She had never caught a fish like that, and was absolutely thrilled. It had been a good day.
I was supposed to do my first trip with Dr. Joel Greenson, of Ann Arbor, Michigan, on Thursday. It was to be an afternoon trip on the moving part of the tide. But, that mean ole front that had been feeding us the south wind on Monday was now on us, and the weather report was awful; big wind and a 70% chance of rain and storms. Joel and I elected to stay at the dock an try for Sunday afternoon.
But, before that front was through here the forecasters were already talking about another front coming through on Sunday with more rain and wind. It seemed that our trip was destined to be weathered out. But, Friday night Joel called me and said that he had wound up with Saturday afternoon open, and wondered if we could go then. I was relieved, and happy to work the Saturday, even as busy as it is on the water and at the ramp.
So, I was on the water at around nine o'clock Saturday morning. I again had some four dozen hand-picked shrimp on board in case there was no bait. I fully expected the front and/or the red tide that has been hanging around Sanibel had sent the bait running. And, boy was I right. I threw the castnet time after time on all three spans of the causeway. I checked the flats off span B. I went on a wild ride out to the beach to see if I could find bait there. Nothing. Zero. Zip. Nadda. I had not seen a living thing. And, the water had a strange, pungent odor to it that wasn't normal. Finally, totally exhausted after hours of throwing the net, I met Joel at the Sanibel boat ramp.
The wind forecast was for 6 to 9 MPH, but it had been blowing pretty hard out of the east/northeast all morning. I was pretty sure that the wind would swing around to the southeast, or even south while we were fishing, and hoped that would help stir a bite on the long, slow all day tide we had to fish.
From the first cast at the first stop we were on fish. The snook were loving the big shrimp, and at least a couple hours, Joel either caught or missed a fish on nearly every cast. Our shrimp were quickly disappearing. While Joel caught snook with the shrimp, I experimented with lures, trying to find something the snook would eat. We caught reds and a nice flounder on Exude RT Slugs, sheephead and snook on DOA Shrimp, but most of the snook were shrimp caught. By the time the bite slowed we'd racked up a bunch of snook, 3 redfish, 3 sheephead, and the flounder.
We moved on hoping to find a trout along the way. But, we didn't. The next two spots yielded no fish. We were on a flat spot in the all day long tide. We moved to a spot nearby that's most always got reds on it. Still no takers on live shrimp. We had saved maybe a dozen for redfishing, and much to my surprise we couldn't give them away.
The wind was shifting around toward the south and building. I knew that if I stayed on the east side of the Sound, and our 30 MPH wind came early, we would have a brutal ride home. However, if I went to the Sanibel side, I would be able to run in relatively protected water most of the way home.
As we motored along quietly on the Minn Kota, I pointed to where we were going to fish and told Joel that we would catch the redfish there, and all we would need was spoons. I thought to myself, I certainly should have tied on one before leaving the last spot. It didn't occur to me that the reds might eat a spoon even though they were turning their noses up to big live shrimp. We reached our destination and it only took about two casts of a gold 1/2 oz. hammered finish spoon for Joel to hook up. And, he hooked up, and hooked up, and hooked up. And, on the casts when neither of us hooked, we could feel the reds popping the lure perhaps from the side or something. It's an unmistakable feeling. Sometimes the reds would bang our spoons half a dozen times before taking it, or perhaps not take it at all. We were having serious fun, and had three double hookups while we were at it. The fish were running from about 3 to maybe 6 pounds.
And, during this mayhem just for giggles, I tossed a jig and even live shrimp right into the middle of the school, and do you think they'd eat it. Hell, no! That's crazy. I was now really regretting not trying a spoon on the east side.
Joel told me he'd have to be back in a little earlier than we had planned on. That was OK, though, as when we quit fishing at five o'clock the fish had slowed down but were still biting. And, the wind was still building. Boy, it's hard to leave redfish that are biting.
We got back to Sanibel Ramp at 5:30, right on schedule. We had enjoyed a day of truly great fishing, and catching. Although he didn't say it, Joel's comments led me to believe it was one of his best days of fishing, and he promised to come back for a rematch.
So, that's how it went. Today, Sunday, as I bang this out on the old HP, it's blowing so hard outside you can hardly walk into the wind. I'm sure glad we got two good days of fishing in between the fronts.
