My customers were Andrew (Sandy) Smith, his son Dr. Andy Smith, and Andy's eight year old son, Jack. Sandy and Andy fished with me around this time a couple of years ago, and had a great time. But, with the fish still in a funk after our record cold winter, I wasn't sure how this trip would go.
The morning definitely started off on the wrong foot. I awoke to the sound of thunder very early in the morning. Last I'd looked we had a 30% chance of rain after 8 AM, and light winds for the day. But, it was rumbling in the distance, and I knew the weather was ahead of schedule. A look at the radar confirmed my instincts, and there was a large area of reds and oranges, along with lots of lightning. I bounced out of bed way early thinking that I would go and get the boat and get it ready before the weather moved in. In so doing I wouldn't be trying to get things ready in the rain later, and could stay dry.
I hoped on my bicycle and rode down to the boatyard, watching the lightning in the night sky, and enjoying the soothing rumble of thunder. I pulled the charger chord and got into my van and turned the key, and it wouldn't start. A problem I have fought for years and thought I finally had resolved, was back. And, invariably it happens on foggy, humid, and/or rainy days early in the morning. The engine just spun over but wouldn't fire. And, when I left go of the key if would wheeze, sputter, and make other odd sounds. #)%(#^@$)%T(*#)!!!! I couldn't believe this was happening.
I rode back to the house thinking I would finish getting myself ready, load the chum container, and have everything ready to pick up on the way back through, if I could get started. Often, after sitting for an hour or so it will start when you come back and try it. I was praying to God that would happen.
By this time it was beginning to drizzle, so I took the car back to the boatyard. I didn't even shut it off. I went to the van, stuck the key in, closed my eyes, and gritted my teeth, and turned it. The engine reluctantly came to life. It was a resurrection of sorts. Now, if the weather would just clear out, I could keep my date with the Smiths. Yes, I really needed to work, but it was much more than that. They were great guys, and I'd had a wonderful time with them back in April 2007. And, they didn't have an alternate date. They were leaving Saturday. We had to get 'er done.
By the time I'd waited to get the van started, I was about on my normal schedule once I arrived at the ramp. It was pouring. But, the electrical display was subsiding. I figured, and hoped, it would be clear by 8 AM, and that the wind would stay down. I kept the Talon trailered, and parked and enjoyed the rain.
After a while, Sandy and Andy walked up to the van in the rain, to let me know they were there. Of course, the wondered if we would fish, and I assured them that I thought we would be able to get our trip in. They went back to their car and waited.
Once the rain let up some I walked down to the ramp to see if I could find any other guides, and there were a few of our guys gathered in the parking lot under the bridge. I inquired if anyone had worked the day before, and one responded he had, and caught two fish! I hoped he was exaggerating to make a point, but the point is that it has been very tough fishing.
By around 7:30 it was down to a slow drizzle, and it appeared the worst of the weather was now south of us. I rounded up my troops, anxious to get out there and get bait, as we had a very early tide.
The ride to the Tarpon Bay bait grounds was a bit bumpy across the mouth of the river on the outside of the causeway. There was a pretty stiff south breeze, and it had really been blowing during the storm. Once inside though, it wasn't bad. There were a handful of boats on the flat that had gone out in the rain, probably concerned that if they waited bait would dry up. But, once on our spot Andy had tons of bait chummed up in no time. I threw my 8 ft. Daddy Pat the first time, and made a pretty good haul. Jack was immediately having fun helping with getting the bait into the well. The second throw wasn't as good, so I decided to invoke the bigger is better rule, and got out my new 10 ft. Daddy Pat. A couple of throws with that puppy and we were loaded to the gills. The sky was clearing, and the breeze seemed to have laid down, and it was time to fish.
I headed straight to where we'd caught the season's first snook last week, fully expecting to do so, again. But, it wasn't to be. Young Jack hooked a nice snook, but his excitement got the better of him, and it got away at the boat. That was the last snook that bit. We should have at least caught some big spring trout, but they weren't biting either. Oddly, we had some snook pop our chummers, but they would not eat one with a hook in it. We moved on.
The wind was up, and it was capping well on the Sound. It was still just west of south. Once we were at our second spot we were immediately on action, and we never looked back the rest of the day. The action began with some beautiful outsized trout of 4, 5 and 6 pounds. That 6 took off like a snook! There were also 2 or 3 redfish, and several nice snook at that first spot. And, who do you think put on the show catching most of them? Yep. It was Jack! He was having a blast putting it on his Dad and Grandpa. And, I think they were having every bit as much fun as I was watching have fun. We finally left that spot once the action slowed, but we left with several SLAMs, and some beautiful trout in the well.
As we moved to our next spot several miles away, I wondered if we'd just gotten lucky and found a hot spot, or it the bite was finally busting loose. We would soon know. We put out a free-lined shiner, a free-lined shrimp, and a shrimp on a jighead. It was a matter of moments before Andy's line snapped tight and the drag began to scream, and I knew we had a good snook on. The first jump confirmed it. We had what would be well into the slot if the season hadn't been closed until September. I had all my outer extremities crossed in hopes that the fish wouldn't throw the hook, and that all the knots would hold. I wanted pictures of that fish. What a great way to start our very late season!
After lots of running around and excitement, Andy had the fish to the boat, and I put the Boga around her lip. It was a done deal! It was also just short of 32 inches. A perfect slot fish, and a great fight. Andy had kinda leveled the playing field with Jack with that one snook. We had some scaled baits, and caught a few more lesser snook there before moving on.
At our next stop a short ride away, we were immediately back on the snook action. It was short lived, but Jack immediately let his Dad know this wasn't over. Jack smacked a nice 29 and 25 inch snook into the boat in short order, and then it was over. The tide was pretty much done, and we were all hungry. We headed to the Waterfront Restaurant for lunch.
After what is always a great lunch, we were back on the water to hit one more spot. I have to tell you that Andy, at my urging, had the calamari. He told me that it was indeed the best he'd ever had. We headed to our last spot in anticipation of knocking down another snook or two. But, the snook wouldn't bite. Our chum did call in a school of small jacks, though, and after a short jack attack, we headed home. What a wonderful day it was with three generations of the Smith family, and Jack was a joy to have in the boat. What a great kid. I can't wait to see how he whups up on those snook when he's got a few years and pounds on him. Look out fish, and look out Dad and Grandpa!