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Lemon Bay - December 15th, 2007
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED: 
73 °
FISHING: Excellent
DECEMBER 15, 2007
FLORIDA
Sometimes, being a “celebrity” has its drawbacks. Take last Tuesday, for example.
Last March, Mike Drossner had read the article I wrote about night snook fishing in Venice that appeared in Fly Fisherman magazine. “I’ve gotta fish with this guy,” Mike told himself. So, I received an e-mail in October.
Dear Tony, Suzanne and I are avid freshwater flyfishers . We read your article "Snook Under Lights" in Fly Fisherman. We are visiting friends on Anna Maria Island Dec 10-15, 2007. We would love to "hook" up with you for a half day or full day of fly fishing the gulf coast inland waterways if you are interested. We cannot go the evening of Dec 12 (my 50th birthday). Hope to hear from you. A flurry of replies and counter-replies ensued, and on the eve of Mike’s milestone birthday, we were cruising around the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) around Venice.
And, for a while, “cruising” is about all we did. Spot after spot after spot yielded no action.
Finally, the tide came in and apparently the fish came in along with it because Mike and Suzanne started boating a grab-bag of species.
Whew!
So then we stopped at Pop’s Sunset Grill for a waterfront dinner of mahi-mahi, conch fritters, and salad laden with raspberry vinaigrette before heading back out for the Main Attraction.
Which, of course, would be snook tantalizingly laid up under the lights. Just like in my magazine article.
And, they were. Hundreds of them. Except THEY must not have read what I’d written. None of them. Not one! Michael Drossner’s 50th Birthday Present was a no-show. For the first time in all the years I’ve been chasing fish down here we failed to catch a snook under the lights.
We had hit seven different lights, and had seen hundreds of snook. Only once was there a flurry of feeding activity. The rest of the time they simply hung suspended in the water, moping.
As Mike and Suzanne began the drive back to Anna Maria Island, where they were staying at the home of one of Dr. Drossner’s grateful heart patients, a boat with three young fellows pulled up to the ramp.
“Pretty punky tide out there tonight,” one of them said. “Yeah,” I replied, “we must have thrown fifteen different fly patterns at them and never got a single snook to eat.”
“Wahl, don’t feel too badly ‘bout it,” another interjected. “We was thowin’ live greenies at ‘em and didn’t none ‘o them eat our bait neither!”
Yeah, well that wasn’t much consolation for this hotshot magazine writer!
At least I found a measure of redemption in Lemon Bay the following morning with Andrew Berryhill, Jim Appold, and his son, Andrew.
Jim owns a bakery near Toledo, as well as a house on Manasota Key. Son Andrew owns rental properties in Toledo, and son-in-law Andrew is the Director of the Toledo Symphony Orchestra.
We launched from the ramp next to Manasota Road Bridge, and worked our way south. Finally, on some flats near Stump Pass, the curtain rose and the music was fine.
In fact, Mr. Berryhill was in excellent form. He must have caught four species of snapper, several enormous lizardfish, jacks, ladyfish, and a couple of small trout.
Team Appold held up their end with a fat 15-inch pompano by Jim, and a slot-sized spotted sea trout by Andrew, then everybody got busy comparing schedules for a couple more trips down the road.
I had pretty much the same experience yesterday with Dan Ferraris. He had bought a trip that I had donated to the Englewood Coastal Conservation Association (CCA) last spring, but this was the first chance we had to fish.
“I’m a retired dentist from Burlington, Vermont,” he told me, “but between going back and forth to sell our house up there, and a remodeling project on the house here, I’ve never been busier. So I’m glad we finally had a chance to get on the water.”
Dan’s new to saltwater fishing and boating, so I think he appreciated all of the tips and tricks I gave him about staying safe while driving his boat as much as all the fish he caught.
“Fishing down here certainly is a lot more complicated then stepping into a Vermont trout stream,” he said. “The boating, the knots, the flies themselves are all so different from what I’m used to.”
His casting was excellent, though. Especially after I showed him my little trick of marking the fly line at the load point, as well as reference marks at 45 feet and 60 feet.
“That’s pretty cool,” he said. “I’m casting farther than I ever have before!”
Uh-huh!
“Now that you’ve got that dialed-in,” I said, “next time we’ll go chase some baby tarpon. They’re only 25 to 50 pounds, but you should have fun with them.”
“Only?” he replied. “Good God!”
MICHIGAN
It’s 8 degrees in Deward right now, but the temperature’s supposed to skyrocket all the way up over 20 tomorrow!
Anything else you’d like to know about THAT fishing report?
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
The puppy’s officially six months old now, and is beginning to “mature” if you get my drift. Heart still is completely and utterly cowed by Ghost—the 10-year old—though.
They are having a fine time careening through the house. Heart uses my big chair and ottoman as a launching pad when he’s being chased by Ghost, and the rug around the dining room table looks like the Santa Anita Racetrack.
At least we’ve got the huge fenced yard for them to blast around in. Not to mention the gray squirrels that have begun to fascinate the puppy.
Just so he remembers feathers, not fur, are his prime objective.
I don’t think I have much to worry about though, judging from the way I keep finding feathers from my fly tying bench throughout the house. Soggy little reminders for me to keep things “buttoned up” a little better!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - May 21st, 2007
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED: 
78 °
FISHING: Good
May 21, 2007
Tarpon are funny animals. Just ask Kevin Jurgens, “Nine-Toe” Jones, Geir Pettersen, Brad Johnson, Jamison Anthony “TT” Tomeo, and especially, Don McEwen!
I spent the better part of last week with them chasing the often-elusive Silver King. Oh, we found them all right—the tarpon, I mean—but not in the usual places you’d expect at this time of year. And getting them to eat a fly or artificial bait was exasperating, to say the least.
Kevin had been threatening to come fish with me for the past three years, but either his business or my schedule always seemed to interfere with our plans.
This time, however, his buddy from Oregon, Kevin Jones, flew East for a week of saltwater fishing before heading back to his guide business on the Dechutes River.
Unfortunately, the cold fronts that have buffeted the upper Midwest and east coast have scrambled the tarpon. The fish that had been popping up around Boca Grande, Gasparilla, and Longboat Key “took a walk” so to speak. That is to say, they suddenly disappeared from the nearshore beaches!
Being resourceful, if nothing else, I went to Plan B: an inland waterway that’s always chock-full of tarpon ranging from 20 pounds to 80 or 90 pounds.
And yes, Virginia, there IS a Santa Clause. Except he didn’t eat the cookies or drink the milk that Kevin, “Nine-Toe”, and later Geir and Brad set out.
Let me set you straight on this “Nine-Toe” business.
Obviously, having two guys of the same first name in the boat gets confusing for everyone when I’m tossing out tidbits like “KEVIN! Big snook cruising at ten o’clock!” Well, WHICH Kevin?
So, after Jonesy got a loop of fly line around his big toe and I mentioned that it was a good way to come up missing a piece of his body if a big tarpon decided to strike—TA DAH! He has a new nickname: “Nine-Toe.”
“When you write about it,” he intoned, “just remember—it’s the LEGEND of Nine-Toe.” When I pointed out that he hadn’t done anything LEGENDARY except land his first-ever snook, he mumbled something about “going on line to tell the world some outrageous stories about Capt. Tony.”
I told him he was simply upset because the dozens of tarpon we’d seen that morning wouldn’t eat a single offering from him or Kevin.
After pouting a while, “Nine-Toe” agreed that probably was true.
The snook, which was a pretty nice fish laid up along the bushes, took away some of his disappointment about not hooking a tarpon. And Kevin Jurgens got on the board a bit later with a four pound bluefish. Since they tend to run in schools, I was surprised the guys didn’t hook up on a bunch of them. But noooooooooo.
Geir and Brad really had bad luck. I took them to The Tarpon Hole, but the tarpon were holed-up someplace else. Brad, who’s also from Michigan, spent a lot of time catching up on “old home week” while Geir cast relentlessly.
“You get up on the bow and fish,” Brad had told him. “You’re going back to Texas soon. I can fish for tarpon for the next two months.” So Geir, who’s originally from Norway, beat the water to a froth.
Sadly, it was one of those days guides absolutely abhor!
Since the wind continued to blow from the north/northeast at 20, Sunday morning once again found me lurking around the inland waterways with Don, a native Floridian from Orlando, and “TT,” from New Jersey.
We kept seeing tarpon, and they kept launching artificial crabs, spinnerbaits, Exudes, and jigs of every description. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Off we went in search of tarpon in another favored spot of mine. The Garmin 172 registered HUNDREDS of fish below us. Nothing. Off we went in search of snook and redfish. Cast, cast, cast. Nothing.
I was about ready to pull the plug on the day, but decided to take one more look for tarpon. Back to The Tarpon Hole.
As we approached, nothing was showing. No swirls. No rolling tarpon. Just calm, flat water.
“Hey, Cap’n,” TT said. “How about showing me how to fly fish?”
I pulled an eight-weight out of the Redfisher’s rod-holder and started to demonstrate. I explained the proper grip. I told TT and Don how to keep the rod tip moving in a straight line. I demonstrated the “strip-strike.”
“TT” got the hang of it pretty quickly.
Finally, Don asked if he could give it a try. Yep. And after about ten minutes of rocking his arm nearly down to the water on his backcast, and throwing the rod forward like a spinning rig on his forward stroke, Don laid out a nice straight cast.
And by golly wouldn’t you know that a 30-pound tarpon inhaled that big white streamer like a 10-year-old with cotton candy at the county fair!
“WHAT DO I DO?” Don yelled. At which point, “TT” vaulted up from his seat and tried to wrestle the rod away from Don. “Gimme that thing,” TT yelled. “You’re doing it all wrong!”
“Get away from me, you New Jersey trailer-trash!” Don replied. Loudly. “I’ll take care of this fish. But what do I DO, Captain?”
I first mentioned that getting rid of all that slack line might be a good idea. Then I started to explain stripping in the line. But Don was furiously reeling and I’ll be darned if that tarpon wasn’t still attached to that size four Eagle Claw hook.
“HOLY #@*%!” Don yelled as the line came tight. “HE’S STILL ON! HE’S STILL ON!”
At which point that tarpon made a five-foot-high jump and the fly came whizzing back at us.
Upon subsequent inspection, it was determined that size four hooks simply aren’t strong enough to withstand tarpon. It had straightened out, allowing that beautiful animal to come unpinned.
It also caused Don and “TT” to come unhinged. “My first fish ever on a fly and it’s a TARPON,” Don kept muttering.
“You didn’t CATCH it,” “TT” kept replying. “He wasn’t in the boat. It doesn’t count!”
To which Don calmly replied, “It counts. And I’m never going fishing with you again, New Jersey Trash. It counts. And this fly is going on my souvenir wall.
“It counts!”
“God,” “TT” wailed. “If I have to listen to this all the way back to Orlando I’m gonna go nuts! I KNEW something like this was going to happen. I just KNEW it!”
“You’re just jealous,” Don retorted.
“Damn right I am!” “TT” said, sadly. “Damn right I am!”
By the way, Bob Haskell up in Wareham, Mass will get a particular kick out of this story. See, that tarpon ate a big white streamer that he tied at one of the fly tying classes I do at Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters.
“That’s a good-looking fly,” I had told him.
“It’s yours,” he replied. “Use it to catch a tarpon. And when you do, I’m really gonna bust the chops of my buddy back home who gives me a bunch of grief about fly fishin’.
“You tell me you caught a tarpon—or ANYTHING—with this fly and I’m gonna lay it on him big-time.”
Lay it on, Bob. Lay it on!
Till next time,
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - May 13th, 2007
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
May 13, 2007
The cold front that forced Kate to cover up our apple trees--which are flowering for the first time--along with all of her other flowers and herbs, is on its way to Florida.
That’s the bad news if you plan on being down here in the next three days.
The GOOD news is that we’ve found an absolute HONEY HOLE of tarpon in the fifteen to sixty-pound class!
Capt. John wheedled the info out of a local fly angler a few days ago, and couldn’t wait to try out the spot.
Yesterday, he went in alone and hooked seven tarpon, boated five, and broke two rods.
Crack of dawn found us BOTH back there today. The hooking action wasn’t as hot as yesterday—John boated one 20-pounder—but we both had PLENTY of shots!
What a great spot.
Last Thursday, I took Rob Pilato and his folks, Lou and Sue, into Charlotte Harbor. Rob said he didn’t want to fish—“just make sure mom and dad have fun,” he said.
That lasted until Dad boated a decent trout. Then Rob’s fly rod magically appeared from the rod holders under the gunwale of my Hewes Redfisher 18.
Bingo! A hefty spotted sea trout for Rob.
We had a lot of big snook and some reds cruising around The West Wall, but no hookups.
When I noticed several boats clustered together out in the deeper water I idled out thataway and it wasn’t long before Dad was the central—maybe supporting actor, in this case—of The Big One That Got Away.
Cobia? Tarpon? Could be. Both species have been hooked during the past week in that specific area.
Anyway, Mom, Dad and Son hooked a plethora of fish. Photos were snapped, hands were shook, and commiserations over The Lost Fish were given.
Next time, Lou. Maybe next time.
Friday morning found me in Lemon Bay with Bob LaForge and his wife, Sherry. Bob just retired, and his daughter Kris thoughtfully arranged the trip as his retirement gift.
Bob’s been guiding anglers in Maine on a part-time basis, and plans to spend more time on the water instead of heading the grocery chain’s seafood department—appropriate, eh?
We tried to run outside Stump Pass, but the rollers were three-to-four. Nope. Let’s take a walk back inside. We did, and found plenty of feeding redfish which didn’t feed on our offerings.
Neither did the tarpon that presented themselves to us. But, hey! Bob and Sherry wanted to see tarpon and I showed them tarpon. NEXT time, Bob, you’ll hook up.
“I didn’t know what to expect about these tarpon,” he said. “But now that I know they really DO exist and you have a chance to catch them, I think I’ll be spending more time here during the winter next year.”
After Sherry hooked a nice trout, Bob nailed one even larger and it was time to go home.
Speaking of home, Kate tells me that heavy frost (it went down to 23f in Deward last night) did some damage but she thinks the apple trees were spared. Won’t know about the blueberries, serviceberries, and daffodils for another day or so.
Keep your fingers crossed for her.
Oh, yeah. John Griffiths is pretty sure “Lady” was successfully bred by “Scooby” last month. She’s going to get an ultrasound Tuesday to make sure, but it looks like Ghost will have a “Little Brother” in August.
She’s gonna hate it. She’s REALLY gonna hate it. But only for a little while. I HOPE!!
Till next time…
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - April 3rd, 2007
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Good
APRIL 2, 2007
FLORIDA
The Bernhard Family—Ted, Judy, and Bob—are safely ensconced once again in Chicago (Ted and Judy) and Fort Lauderdale (Bob) after three days of crashing around the nearshore and backcountry of southwest Florida.
Ted was the raffle winner of a fishing package I had worked out two years ago with the DuPage River Fly Tyers (DRIFT), and we made it a truly memorable three days.
We hit Gasparilla Sound last Wednesday (March 28) and after some casting instruction both Ted and Judy promptly got into ladyfish and trout. Quite a few ladyfish and trout!
Finally, Judy pointed to her watch and made it abundantly clear that it was time for chow. That meant a run south through Charlotte Harbor to the restaurant on Cabbage Key.
This place is a dark and always crowded, with walls and ceilings covered by an estimated 70,000 US dollar bills. Yep. Complete with names and sentiments written all over them in black magic-marker. But you also can eat your burgers or mahi sandwiches on the patio that overlooks the dockage. Which we did.
There’s a small gift shop down at the dock, plus motel rooms and cottages for rent (two night minimum) beginning at $99. Naturally, Judy wandered off to the gift shop while we waited for lunch. She came back empty-handed, though, proclaiming “nothing I can’t live without.”
Judy slept in Thursday morning, allowing Ted’s old business partner, Skip Shaffer, to drive up from North Fort Myers and join us for a morning in the Gulf outside Stump Pass.
The guys had lots of laughs hooking small snapper, lizardfish, and a Sea Robin—which is a fish with legs and wings. Honest. You could look it up!
Skip finally caught several Spanish mackerel before we headed back to for a siesta before taking Ted, Judy and son Bob night snooking.
I’ve gotta tell you, this season’s night snook action is a far, far cry from what I wrote about for Fly Fisherman magazine. It’s been TOUGH!
Last year, we couldn’t keep the fish from jumping into the boat. This year it’s been a great night if we boated a half-dozen. At least Bob hooked, played, and landed a 24-incher that went about four pounds.
Friday found us looking for baby tarpon in the Myakka River. Yes, we found them. No, we couldn’t hook up. Plenty of 25-pounders rolling, but always just thatmuch out of shooting range!
I put the Hewes Redfisher back onto the trailer and we headed for Stump Pass and the Gulf once again. After a pleasant lunch at Marker 17 Restaurant and Grille, I’m happy to report that everyone caught Spanish mackerel and had a wonderful time on the water.
After two days of R&R I was back at it this morning—except the Spaniards refused to participate. Don Gasch did have a pretty good morning, though. He boated a hefty redfish in Dona Bay, and some ladyfish and bluefish in Little Sarasota Bay.
I’ve got trips the next several days with Bob Bowman, then Jim Rohrbacher, Dean Morton. Chryss Harrington, and Brad Hardin.
I’ll keep you posted on developments. Now it’s time to get up to Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters for our free fly tying class.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
Ps—there’s a storm advisory calling for heavy snow in Deward the next couple of days. Good thing it’s a couple weeks till trout opener!
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Lemon Bay - February 24th, 2007
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
74 °
FISHING: Good
FEBRUARY 23, 2007
After nearly two weeks of frigid (well, by southwest Florida standards) weather that drove the water temperature down to 58 degrees, Spring has come to Venice.
And it apparently is bringing the recently-departed Spanish mackerel and Little Tunny (Bonito) with it.
I guided Andy Houck and his good friend Mike Reid, both from Cincinnati, in Lemon Bay today, and they told me they had watched gulls and terns dive-bombing the Gulf earlier in the morning.
Hmmm. Sounds like a Mack-Attack to me! Maybe Jeff Saal and his son will want to investigate that action tomorrow morning. (I’ll fill you in next time on how it goes.)
Let’s see. Larry Warszalek was down for a couple of days and we chased Bonito (nope, didn’t get any to eat a fly—although we graphed THOUSANDS in 40 feet of water off the Venice Jetty). Also went looking for the Usual Suspects and Larry boated his Personal Best ladyfish.
That was in Little Sarasota Bay, and that ladyfish ate the fly the instant it touched the water. It was darn near like brown trout back in Michigan slurping a dry fly when the hatch is on.
And I mean to TELL you that ladyfish took off like a bonefish. In fact, when the reel started screeching Larry and I looked at each other in disbelief. “Cobia?” I wondered aloud. It bulldogged around the boat for quite a few minutes before Larry slammed on the brakes and we got it into the net.
Nice fish!
I had an aborted night trip with Carol and Ed Ervin, when the snook seemed to have vanished from the ICW. In fact, I pulled the plug after two very uneventful hours. We still have to finish that trip.
Charlotte Harbor was holding a BUNCH of redfish while Larry was here, so I went in search of them a few days ago with two of The Delaney Brothers—Bill and Mike.
Bill has hunted with me (grouse and woodcock in Michigan, and quail down here) but this was our first time fishing together. Brother Number Three—Kevin—hunted quail with us a few weeks ago, but I still haven’t me the “Baby Huey” of the family, Brother Vinny, who weighs in about 350.
Kate still can’t roll that one off her tongue. “Michael, William Patrick, Kevin, and VINNY? Somehow that just doesn’t sound right,” she told them. “I guess Bill cheated when he doubled-up with William Patrick!”
Mike nailed several fish, but Bill didn’t hook up. So, we’re going to Terra Ciea next week to remedy that.
Ray Feher and Ron Landham, of Chattanooga, went night snooking with me and we had a bundle of fish to look at. They caught some, lost some and boated a few. In fact, Rob brought in a 3-pound bluefish on his second cast and I really thought we were off to the races.
Water was 62 in one spot, then we buzzed north to a pair of lights that held about 30 fish and the water was 65. The fish weren’t crazy about taking either a fly or jib, but the guys nailed a few and had a good time.
Ray wants to give it another try before heading home next month. Fish. You just can’t count on them to do the right thing! As my old Chilean friend Oscar Feliu once said, “Damn fish are just like women. One night yes, next night no!”
Dave Reid had a great time this afternoon. It was blowing pretty hard when they met me at the Manasota Beach Road ramp, so I elected to run back into Forked Creek, where I’ve been finding baby tarpon. No luck on them, but Dave boated a small snook and a 4-pound jack crevalle that took him all over the water before we did the Kodak Thing.
He later boated a nice pompano when we were out in the Bay. “My first-ever jack and my first pompano,” he said. “That was great.”
A group of folks who regularly share information on the Fly Anglers On Line (FAOL) web site are coming down for a Fish-In. We’re kicking it off with a BBQ at my house on March 4—which happens to be Kate’s birthday. Can’t tell you which one. That’s a highly classified secret.
But y’all are welcome to join us for buffalo burgers and Italian sausage. And cold beer. YUM! You can help us sing “Happy Birthday.”
Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters on Albee Road in Nokomis is Fish-In HQ. Give Kevin a call at 941-483-1115 for details—‘cause I’m booked solid for the next couple of weeks and can’t answer the phone!
I’ll keep you posted with updates—even if they’re short and sweet!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - February 4th, 2007
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED: 
66 °
FISHING: Excellent
February 4, 2007
This certainly has been a most unusual winter in Venice—which has been a blessing to frozen northern anglers looking for balmy temperatures and co-operative fish!
Take yesterday, for example.
I literally walked into Herb Schutt, Dick Kuzminsky, and Dave Karpenske when I stopped at Big Bite Fishing Tackle in Nokomis to pick up an old door last Thursday. Yes, you read that right. Door.
See, we’ve been getting upwards of 15 men, women and boys at the free fly tying classes we do from 6-8 pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays at Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters. The little table we were using is totally inadequate to handle the crowd and Stacey Adams wasn’t using this door anymore and…well, you get the idea.
Anyway, I walked into her store and she immediately said, “please talk with these three men about a fishing charter.” Great!
“When would you like to go out?” I asked. “Tomorrow!” was the instant reply. “Any place in particular you want to fish?” I asked. Stupid question. I should have anticipated the immediate response from Herb: “wherever the fish are biting.” Right.
So, I checked the tides and told them to meet me at the boat ramp on Manasota Key at 10 am. I hedged my bet, though, and also said I’d keep an eye on the weather and call them at 8 that night.
As it turned out, Friday’s forecast was for cool temps and the possibility of thunderstorms. For once, the weather-guessers were absolutely correct.
After delaying our launch twice by phone, I finally told Herb to forget it. “Meet me at the ramp tomorrow morning at 10.” He said he’d be there early. I told him I would, too.
Turned out only one of us was right.
I had the new Hewes Redfisher 18 in the water and purring like a contented puppy when my cell phone rang. It was Kate.
“Your guys are somewhere south of Englewood. Placida Road, I think they said. Somebody told them they missed their turn by about eight miles. They’re on their way north as we speak.” Hmmm.
I spent some time meeting Bill Brant, who’s down from Pittsburgh for a couple months and hasn’t had any luck finding fish. I expect to remedy THAT when I take him and Don Gresch fishing on Tuesday. Then the guys pulled into the parking lot looking mighty sheepish and we headed south into Lemon Bay.
Herb’s a retired Marine Corps chopper driver, and Dick (Kuz) and Dave are retired high school teachers. They’d all been on the wrestling team together in college, and have stayed in touch even though Herb moved back to his hometown of Ithaca, NY, and Kuz and Dave are still in Wisconsin.
Herb’s staying in Venice for a couple months, so his pals naturally finagled a brief visit. “Hey,” Kuz said as I mentioned the 60something air temp. “We’re headin’ back to Wisconsin Monday, and it’s minus-11 up there right now. This feels GREAT!”
We cruised to the spot where Steve Nelson and Gene Kahn had shots at so many redfish last week, but school was out. They must have gone on a field trip somewhere, because those reds certainly weren’t busting baby mullet around the oyster bar.
Heading south, we pulled up onto a grass flat that’s been good to me the past few years and it didn’t let me down. I should say, it didn’t let Herb down. He hooked and lost three fish before a two-foot ladyfish finally came to the boat for a Kodak Moment.
When Herb boated his second and then his third fish, the razzing commenced. Dave was still fishless when Kuz stood helpless as line ziiiiiiiiiiinged off his reel. He hit the brakes too hard and suddenly was holding a line devoid of both fish and “food.”
We drifted a couple more grass flats, where Herb kept hooking up, and Dave finally got on the board with a trout, and Kuz remained fishless.
Finally, as the deadline approached to meet their wives for dinner, Herb nailed a very fat Jack crevalle that circled the boat several times, and Kuz got a broken heart.
We’d gone up into the same residential canal where Steve Gibson of the Sarasota Herald-Tribune jumped his baby tarpon last week, and darn if that fish or his twin brother didn’t come a’callin.
“I GOT ONE AND IT’S BIG” Kuz yelled. Then the 25-pounder jumped and I said “TARPON!” Regaining my guid-ly composure, I quietly instructed Kuz to drop the rod tip when the fish jumped—which it obligingly did three more times.
Unfortunately, Kuz only lowered the rod tip twice. PING! Goodbye tarpon.
Kuz, of course, was pretty hard on himself. His pals were surprisingly restrained. Pity will do that sometimes.
Their pity didn’t extend quite so far when Kuz lost ANOTHER big fish just moments after I’d gotten him re-rigged. “I’m snake-bit,” he moaned. Herb and Dave hooted. It was time to go home.
Kate just checked the temps in Deward. Two below. Same for Chicago, where The Intern (Larry Warszalek) is champing at the bit as he waits for our two days of fishing next week.
“I can’t WAIT to get out of this cold weather,” he wailed last week. And it was still eight ABOVE when he croaked out his desire to “shake this miserable cold someplace warm.”
Thank heaven, he’s going to get his wish!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Lemon Bay - November 1st, 2006
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
85 °
FISHING: Great
November 1, 2006
OVERVIEW
Steelhead are actively feeding in the lower Manistee River and the Pere Marquette River near Wellston and Baldwin, respectively. Brown trout are taking streamers fished deep with sink-tip lines.
In Florida, baby tarpon are schooled up near creek mouths, while snook, redfish and spotted sea trout activity is strong.
Michigan grouse and woodcock hunting has been superb. Woodcock are starting to thin out as the migration south continues, but grouse numbers are excellent. Woodcock season ends Nov. 6, and grouse closes Nov. 14.
MICHIGAN FISHING
Bill Delaney and Dave Martinez floated the upper Manistee River with me last week and were very impressed by the structure, holding lies, and sheer beauty of the habitat. That’s the good news.
The bad news was that it was a brilliantly sunny day and the water was so clear you could read a newspaper lying on the river bottom. Absolutely not the sort of day that’s conducive to pitching streamers.
The guys were gamers, though, and wore out their arms casting big flies on sinking lines! Fortunately, the previous three days of bird hunting had been superb. More on that later.
The lower river, as always, is producing superb catches of steelhead and some large browns. They’re still looking for salmon eggs, but that’ll change pretty quickly since the Chinook spawning run is just about finished for this year.
Once the last of the Kings are gone, look for steelies in the deeper holes and pitch stonefly nymphs and the little green Rhyacophelia caddis larva. Large streamers are always a good choice, too.
The Boyne also had a good run of Chinook this season, and Steve Shahanian beached one smallish fish during our four-day Cast & Blast.
Don’t forget that firearm deer season opens statewide on the 15th, so if you plan on hiking through the woods to your favorite steelhead hole it’s wise to wear a cheap blaze orange vest over your fishing gear.
MICHIGAN UPLAND HUNTING
In a word, “Fantastic”!
Grouse and woodcock numbers have been excellent this season. Ghost and Ben have done an outstanding job of pointing birds. Most of them flew away unmolested, which is a fine thing. As my old friend Bob Popp always says, “Ya gotta leave some for seed”!
This is the first October in 20 years that I haven’t been on the road as a sales representative in the fly fishing industry—I sold the business to John Bueter last March—so we’ve hunted nearly every day.
I spent the two weeks in September after Opener on the 15th doing a lot of scouting. Bill Ross joined me on many occasions, and we had a great time checking out my favorite coverts.
My guiding kicked into gear on October 7, when Jo Jo Doria, from Peoria, IL, joined me and Ghost and Ben for a day afield.
Jo Jo had just purchased a fancy new side-by-side shotgun from Bryan Bilinski at Fieldsport in Traverse City, and couldn’t wait to try it out.
We saw five grouse and seven woodcock, and Jo Jo was thrilled with the day despite missing a golden opportunity for a double on woodcock.
Bob Benz was out with me a couple of days later. He’d also just purchased a new shotgun from Bryan, and wanted to try it out before heading back home to Houston for the winter.
Nine grouse and nine woodcock took wing that day, but Bob was having trouble seeing and hearing them. He did take a grouse home, however it was sorta bizarre. We had just started walking through a covert when Sam, a GSP who beIongs to my pal Steve Sendek, locked up on point. Then there was a rustle of feathers and Sam rushed in to grab a cripple that someone obviously had winged earlier in the morning.
That night, as predicted, we had our first snowfall of the season. Yep. On October 10th!
So, it was a wet, sloppy morning for me and Steve Shahanian, who’d driven up from Lexington, KY, with his two setters, Toby (5) and her daughter Kate (1).
The weather finally cleared on Steve’s final day with me, but he went home happy. “I can honestly say that my setters can work on grouse and woodcock now. I couldn’t make that statement last week. It was great.”
It certainly helped man and dogs that during our four days together Steve and his setters saw 16 grouse and 41 woodcock. We averaged 6.3 birds per hour.
Speaking of finding woodcock, that was the “problem” Geoff Bump and his brother, Greg, had been having. “We can find woodcock all day long,” Geoff lamented, “but we just can’t find grouse.
“What we want from you today is an education in where to find grouse.”
Hmm, I said.
“Well, what sort of cover have you been hunting?” I asked.
Sure enough, classic woodcock coverts that only sometimes hold grouse.
After walking through three different coverts that they freely admitted “we never would have given a second glance,” and after seeing six grouse and nine woodcock in them, they looked at each other and shook their heads. “We’ve been hunting in the wrong places!”
Several days later I got a nice e-mail from Geoff telling me that they’ve been finding grouse in all the right places since our day together.
I actually took several days off after that and hunted with good friends Rex Farver, Bob Popp, and Mike Beatty. The only disappointing aspect during that week was that Ghost was lame with a pulled leg muscle (which forced me to cancel a trip on the 16th with Mike Timmis, of Fort Myers). So, we relied on Ben, Rex’ dog Jake, and Mike’s setter Sadie.
October 23 found me in the woods with Bill Delaney and Dave Martinez. Bill had hunted quail in Florida over Ghost last winter, and was anxious to watch her in a grouse covert.
We roamed throughout northern Michigan during our four days together, and despite not hooking any fish, they saw 15 grouse and forty-four woodcock. And they had enough success that I even made woodcock pate for them—which we consumed during and after our float on the Manistee.
The following morning, Mike Chiarappa met me and Ghost and Ben for a days of hunting and history. Mike thoroughly enjoyed both, since the “history” portion is what he does as a professor at Western Michigan University. He had as much fun learning about the old ghost town of Deward as he did seeing five grouse and twelve woodcock!
We were supposed to hunt again the next day—and even gave it a try for thirty minutes after sitting in my greatroom for a couple of hours. But, in the end, a howling wind that hit us like a freight train forced me to cancel the hunt.
I wasn’t sure if the following day with Stan Skarli would work out, but the wind settled down just enough to take him and his daughter Hannah (13) and son Christian (12) through the woods.
The wind made it hard on Ghost and Ben, but Team Skarli did see four grouse and four woodcock. And the kids even got off a couple of shots!
Ghost has been grateful for the rest these past couple of days. In addition to her pulled leg muscle (again), she’s been taking drops for a hole that got poked into her left eye by a blackberry thorn. She sure hates getting those drops. Thankfully, the eye is mostly healed! However, we definitely will still roam a few more grouse coverts before heading south for quail!
FLORIDA
Speaking of heading south, I just got a call from my bank in Gaylord, approving my loan for the 2007 Hewes Redfisher 18 I’m picking up on the 22nd. That’s what they call “Just In Time” delivery since my first guide trip of the season is on the 23rd!
And it looks like this is going to be another tremendous year of fishing in southwest Florida. The reports I’m getting from Kevin Cooke, Capt. Mark, and the Admiral are excellent.
Baby tarpon are swarming the creek and river mouths, reds are schooling, snook are working their way back into the Intracoastal Waterway, and spotted sea trout are holding on the shallow water flats during high tide before drifting into deeper water as the tides fall.
It won’t be long before King mackerel and albies start cruising the beaches, either.
Hopefully, you’ll be there to join me when the Fall Blitz begins!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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