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The World’s Finest Night Snook FishingJust Keeps Getting Better and Better! By Capt. Tony Petrella(This article was published in the March 2007 issue of Fly Fisherman)
Bernie Shapiro carefully climbed onto the casting deck of my Hewes skiff and started to unhook the fly from a snake guide on his rod. I glanced up from tying a little shrimp pattern onto a backup rod, and mumbled through the tippet material in my teeth.
“Waddadyasay?” Bernie asked politely, with that little hint of newwjoisey that’s almost a banjo-string twang. “I said,” spitting out the cut-off piece from the knot, “sit down. I’ll tell you when it’s time to fish.”
Bernie pushed the Sherlock Holmes hat further up his high forehead, cocked his head sideways, spread his arms wide, pointed the rod at those snook like a rapier, and asked “Why?”
“Because,” I replied, checking the knot on the 30-pound fluorocarbon, “it isn’t time yet.”
Bernie’s head did a slow swivel toward the dock 40 feet away. He counted, “One, two, three, four, five…maybe six nice fish just lying there. You tell me it isn’t time?” Bernie was starting to sound a little bit incredulous, sort of like a groom on his wedding night.
“Ya know, Bernie,” I replied, “I went through the very same mental torture the first time I came night snook fishing. Did just about the very same things you’re doing right now.
“But, you’ve just gotta be patient. Heck, it isn’t even dark yet. Wait till it gets dark and that dock light goes on and angels fall from the heavens and land right here in the water at your feet in the form of big, beautiful snook.”
Bernie started looking at me sorta funny. So, I offered him a bottle of water and told him it reminded me of a joke. “NO, not another joke,” he wailed. But I launched off into yet another story about Guiseppe and Luigi. When I was done, and Bernie was wiping the laughtears from his eyes, I told him “It’s time.”
He quit whooping and looked up suddenly. First at me. Then at the gooseneck light on the dock that had automatically turned itself into a
fish-magnet. And, of course, he stared incredulously at the snook--about four dozen dark silhouettes weaving and hovering and occasionally darting through the water around the dock that was to become our point of attack.
Before I finish the story of Bernie’s Wonderful Adventure, let me explain a little bit about this night snook business. Because until you understand some of the basics, you simply can’t believe that fishing like this actually exists.
First, there’s the immutable fact that the southwest Gulf Coast of Florida is the unrivaled snook capital of the world in terms of sheer numbers. According to Dr. Ron Taylor, snook specialist for Florida’s Fish and Wildlife Research Institute, that’s because of the incredible mangrove ecosystem that blankets the area from Tampa Bay south through Sarasota, Venice, and Charlotte Harbor.
“Just look at the habitat we have on the Gulf Coast,” Taylor says. “It’s ten times more than the Atlantic Coast, which is getting hit hard by development. Because there are miles and miles and miles of mangrove islands where snook can hide and grow up, the Gulf Coast is in dynamite condition. The spawning biomass is up there, catch rates are high. From all measurable indices, we’re at an all-time high. In fact, the Gulf Coast has more than double the snook stock that exists on the Atlantic side.”
Anglers who worked the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) around Venice and Nokomis during the winter of 2006 certainly would agree. In previous years, a three-hour guided trip in “Snook Alley” would result in perhaps 15 or 20 snook ranging from 18 inches to 22 or 23 inches.
Which, by any indices, isn’t a bad night’s fishing.
But in 2006, the catch rate skyrocketed. Fly anglers were hooking 30, 40, sometimes 50 fish within three or four hours. If you do the math, that’s one fish every five minutes. When you consider that it takes at least that long to land one of these animals, that means the action was non-stop. There were plenty of “doubles,” too, which made anglers dance around the gunwales in the dark in a subtropical Keystone Kops routine.
Naturally, anglers, guides, and scientists tried to determine the reason for such a dramatic increase in snook numbers.
The most obvious was the unseasonably warm winter the Venice area experienced in 2006. Air temperatures routinely were five to ten degrees higher than normal, which had a profound effect on water temps as well.
That created a situation in which fish that normally would have been cruising far up tributaries such as South Creek, Boleys Creek, Shackett Creek, and Whittaker Bayou stayed in the ICW. They simply didn’t need to seek out black, muddy bottoms that retain precious heat from daytime sunlight since water temperatures below 55 degrees is lethal to snook.
Another key ingredient quite possibly was the red tide bloom that plagued Sarasota Bay for most of the previous year.
It’s no secret by now that the oxygen-robbing karenis brevis microorganism killed an enormous portion of the spotted sea trout population in the Bay during that 11-month period. It also obviously caused a mass exodus of ladyfish and snook, because populations of those animals escalated dramatically to the north, in Terra Ceia Bay, and to the south, in Little Sarasota Bay and Roberts Bay—meaning ”Snook Alley.”
Two other factors also entered the equation in recent years.
First, the ban on gillnets made an immediate impact on the recovery of southwest Florida’s gamefish population. Second, Mote Marine Laboratory began an aggressive hatch-and-stock program for the Sarasota area.
Netting still occurs legally during the early winter months, when scores of fishermen corral pods of mullet to strip the roe for sale in the Orient, where it’s consumed like caviar. The rest of the carcass either goes to crabbers, who use the heads to attract blue crabs or stone crabs, or to cat-food mills. But the enormous “bycatch” of snook and redfish mostly has vanished along with the miles and miles of gillnets that formerly decimated the population of those sportfish.
Meanwhile, Mote Marine, located at the northern tip of Siesta Key—a barrier island west of Sarasota—began its ambitious hatchery program.
Dr. Ken Leber, who holds a doctorate in marine biology from Florida State University, has been heading up Mote’s efforts since 1996 and is cautiously optimistic about what’s happened in the past, and where the snook fishery is headed.
“Snook has been a tough species to deal with,” Leber says candidly. “Technology has not existed for us to rear these animals in a hatchery environment. I know Mote is number one in stock enhancement, but we’re still only producing five thousand to as many as eight thousand animals per year.”
Even so, Mote recently celebrated the fact that more than 50,000 fry have been successfully released into the wild. Unfortunately, last year’s red tide episode caused the elimination of a whole year-class, according to Leber.
“The wild spawners survived,” Leber said, “but their offspring didn’t. The red tide hit us right at the peak of spawning in late May and early June of 2005. We’re going to try some different techniques in the future to mitigate that. For instance, for the first time, we’re seeing positive results of snook growing in large tanks before releasing them into vegetative habitat.
“We have a great animal, but we’re not producing them economically enough right now. My whole issue has been, Is it cost effective? Is it having an impact?”
Enough of an impact that slot limits were increased July 1, 2006 from a minimum “keeper” length of 26 inches to 27 inches, and a maximum of 34 inches, measured from the tip of the tail to the tip of the lower jaw.
Bag limits remain one fish per day on the Gulf Coast with a closed season December 15 through January 31, and May 1 through August 31. Bag limit is two per day on the Atlantic side, with a closed season of December 15 through January 31, and June 1 through August 31.
The most interesting thing about those bag limits and open seasons is that anglers on the Atlantic side theoretically can keel a lot more snook even though the biomass is far greater on the Gulf.
“I don’t know if those regulations are going to change or not,” Taylor says. “The genetic stocks are different from the Gulf species to the Atlantic species, for one thing. The Atlantic fish grow larger in a shorter period of time, which is nice, but there simply aren’t a lot of fish compared to the Gulf.
“Habitat on the Atlantic side is constantly shrinking because of all the condos. Even if they’re not right on the coastline, they’re destroying the upland wetlands. The St. Lucie River, for instance, is a mess.
“As biologists, we know that we can control bag limits and size limits. But we can’t do a damn thing about habitat. We’re really blessed on the Gulf Coast.”
So blessed, according to Taylor, that most snook on the Gulf Coast actually are caught twice. “Maybe,” he says, “even more often than that.”
Now that you understand the factors that have created such a phenomenal fishery in “Snook Alley,” it’s time for the Last Act of Bernie’s Wonderful Adventure.
So, Bernie blinked realfast and shuddered just a little bit. Fear? Excitement? I didn’t ask and he didn’t tell. But he manfully sucked in his gut, whirled the eight-weight like a concertmaster’s baton, and launched into the most beautiful symphony any angler could ever imagine.
After boating number thirty-seven, Bernie wailed “Uncle!” and haltingly stepped down from the casting deck into the well of the boat. He slumped backward onto the seat on the center console and rolled his eyes.
“I can’t take any more,” he whispered. “My wrist hurts and my forearm’s stiff and my shoulder feels like it’s gonna fall off. I’ve never caught this many fish in my life. Take me home!”
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Capt. Tony Petrella spent more than 20 years as a journalist before becoming a guide in northern Michigan and southwest Florida. |
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