I was the first guide at the ramp Friday morning. There were two commercial fishermen also putting in. Shortly after I parked Steve Waugh showed up. It was 40 degrees when I left the house just a couple of miles from the ramp. The forecast was for light breeze of 4 to 8 MPH, and a high of around 65. It was the first day after the front, and I knew both were probably fiction. But, I was also pretty sure I had nailed down a good extremely cold winter trout pattern, and felt good about putting Martin on a good trout bite.
Steve and I chatted while we waited, and there wasn't a whole lot of good news to share. Ditto for when Bruce Ringsmuth showed up. Martin showed up carrying a bucket of left over shrimp and pinfish, and we all chatted for a few minutes before we took off.
As we idled out to the mouth of the river I asked Martin what he wanted to do. He said he was in my hands and that whatever I thought was best would be fine with him. He just wanted to have at least one nice trout for a final fresh fish dinner before going back to DC. I was pretty sure we could fill that order, but when the water is as cold as it is, and there's another cold front every three days, what happens on one day has little bearing on what happens on the next.
I told Martin I was going to go to a hole near Demere Key I used to fish years ago on those extra cold winter mornings. It had been years since weather had sent me there, but it was always good. Was was the key word. We couldn't buy a bite from live bait or jig. After about an hour we moved on.
We headed to a hole Martin and I fished early in February as I was trying to find deeper cold water holes to fish. He caught tons of small trout there, but only one keeper. I had since then figured out the bigger fish, and the best bait. But, there was one problem. All the holes seemed to be full of seaweed; what I call tumbleweed that gets pushed into the holes by wind and current on these big winter blows. That creates a problem because the winter pattern is slow and right on the bottom. Martin was immediately catching nice trout with his shrimp under a popping cork. But, all I could catch was seaweed in the deep hole. So, I suspended the jig under a popping cork about 18 inches and went to work.
At first, I was giving the cork sharp pops to draw the fish in. I caught a few trout that way, but the best was to just make a long cast and let it sit and move on the current. Most of the time it took less than 30 seconds to disappear. Once we saw how the fish were eating the jig hanging under a popping cork I tied a rig for Martin. We caught a bunch of trout, and easily had our two limits plus, even though we only kept six fish. When the fish slowed down we'd just raise the PowerPole and moved down the hole about the length of a cast, and be back in them.
Finally the action slowed down. It was an hour before the scheduled tide change, but I quickly realized that the big wind that had blown all day the day prior at around 35, and the still brisk breeze had already turned the tide around. It was going out.
It was a little past eleven, and Martin and I quickly decided it was time to hit the Waterfront for some hot chocolate and whatever. We'd had a good day of trout fishing, and had enough.
Safely back at the ramp after a fantastic lunch I cleaned the fish while Martin was kind enough to hold my boat off the dock so the rub rail wouldn't be ripped off by all the large swells coming in from the big cruiser traffic. It didn't look as if anything had been cleaned there to that point, and the gulls, herons, and egrets were all trying to steal fillets, while the pelicans begged for handouts at my feet. I don't normally feed the birds, but I knew they were all half starved and tried to make sure each one got a little welfare!
It had been a great day with a wonderful, fascinating, and interesting friend whom I very much enjoy. Too bad he only makes it down once a year.