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Venice - February 29th, 2008
supplied by: Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters
RECORDED: 
75 °
FISHING: Good
YIPPEEEEEE! Sam Povinelli finally got his “food” Sunday morning, thank goodness!
Those of you who are long-time readers of these fishing reports know that Sam and his son, Ron, have fished with me pretty regularly for the past couple of years.
And, beginning with Sam’s 91st birthday present trip, Sam has focused upon one immutable goal each outing: Catching Dinner.
“You better find us some food, Tony,” said Sam, who turned 93 two days before our latest trip, when we met at the Books-A-Million parking lot Sunday morning. “Rose is still mad at you.” Rose is his 88-year-old wife (who also fished with me on her 86th birthday).
His son, Ron, looked at me and shook his head. “You KNOW you can’t win,” he said. HIS son, Ron junior, just grinned.
Well, turns out I DID win. Sort of. With an assist from Ron. Who looked at me and whispered, “You realize I saved your ass!” as we were heading back to the ramp with a just-keeper spotted sea trout and a three-pound bluefish.
See, I had planned on getting some live shrimp for Sam to toss (this was strictly a spin-fishing trip). But although Ron prefers to cast a fly rod, he’s also an excellent spin-angler, and had run over to West Marine for a little tub of the new Gulp New Penny artificial shrimp.
“This something new,” Ron told me, “and I’ve never seen an artificial bait attract fish like this stuff.”
Turns out, he was right. That’s what the guys used, and that’s what caught the various species that we boated—including the two keepers that SAM hooked and landed.
I haven’t heard yet how Rose prepared the bluefish, but Sam assured me that she has a recipe “that’s delicious.”
“Okay, Tony,” Sam said as they climbed off my Hewes Redfisher, “I’ll tell Rose not to be mad at you any more. Maybe you DO know where the (edible) fish are!”
I grinned and looked at Ron. “Want me to dress those fish?”
He looked at Sam, who was slowly walking down the dock, then looked back at me. “Naw! Let HIM clean them.” Just then the bluefish lurched and Ron added, “I just hope it doesn’t BITE him. Neither one of us would ever hear the end of THAT.”
Oh, yeah! Probably the BEST part of the trip was when I walked to the end of the dock to say goodbye to Sam.
"So, you gonna give me a free trip on my hundreth birthday?" he asked with an absolutely straight face.
Ron's shoulders slumped and he shook his head.
I grinned and replied, "absolutely, Sam. And I'll be looking forward to it!"
The day before, Ellen and John Cheesborough, from Raliegh, NC joined me and Ellen had a blast catching snook and ladyfish in and around Lemon Bay. John got in on the act, too.
The only disappointment was that the baby tarpon that hang out in one of my favorite spots decided they didn't want to participate in the day's fun.
Ah, well. Such is the life of a fishing guide.
Yesterday, Jay Tinley joined me in Lemon Bay, intent on catching redfish. So, that’s precisely what we did. Sort of. See, Jay only boated one. But we saw plenty, including a very large one that looked as orange as a goldfish!
There were plenty of BIG snook around the mangroves, too.
After poling the skiff around the shallows for a couple of hours, we went into deeper water and Jay landed trout and ladyfish until I suggested we go look for pompano near Stump Pass.
We only hooked one, but I later found out from one of Englewood’s commercial fisherman (who supplies fresh fish to several area restaurants) that “The Gut” of the Pass was absolutely loaded with Pompano.
We’ve got a harsh cold front moving in that’s supposed to drive daytime temps down into the low 60s, so I don’t plan on getting back onto the water until Saturday.
I’ll be meeting Bob Fanter, from Des Moines, and his son-in-law at the Kingfish ramp up on Anna Maria Island around noon. The air and water should be nice and warm again by then, and the fish should be in an eatin’ kinda mind.
I hope!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - February 7th, 2008
supplied by: Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters
RECORDED: 
79 °
FISHING: Excellent
February 2008 Fishing Report
Snook- will be moving out of the creeks and canals later this month. At low tides, snook will be in potholes and deep cuts along mangroves, channels and docks. Small glass minnow, dark colored crabs and shrimp flies fished slowly will be productive. Live shrimp, dark colored jerk baits and jigs will score for the spinning guys. Night snook has been hit and miss. There are a lot of snook under the lights, but with the flux in water temps makes their metabolism slow. Glass minnows, shrimp patterns on 4's and 6's will work. Don't forget a couple of 8's and crazy Charlie bonefish flies!
Trout- Grass Flats with 3-4 ft of water will hold trout. Potholes on a negative tide will also hold trout. Dark colored clousers, crabs and shrimp patterns fished slowly on a sink-tip or intermediate fly lines over the grass or pothole is the way to go. Lemon Bay, Charlotte Harbor, Pine Island Sound are the favorite areas. Lemon Bay Park, Middle Beach Complex and Black Burn Point have been producing for the wade fisherman. Zara Puppy Topwater plugs, white grubs, dark jerk baits and live shrimp under a popping cork will score with the spin fisherman.
Redfish- Redfish bite has been hot in our area. Concentrate on fishing the incoming tide off a negative tide. As the tide rises thee reds will exit pot holes are start moving out of deep water on to flats. The redfish can be very spooky, 10-12ft leader tapered to 10-12lb fluro will combat this. Dark crustaceans patterns for flies and gold spoons, root beer soft baits and shrimp for spinning rod action.
Best Of The Rest!- Pompano, SheepsHead, Few Spanish, Jacs and Bluefish are still around. Passes, old docks, and sand bars are were the best of the rest will be!
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Venice - January 15th, 2008
supplied by: Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters
RECORDED: 
75 °
FISHING: Good
JANUARY 13, 2008
The first real cold front of the winter hit southwest Florida the first week of the new year, plunging nighttime temperatures to the mid-30s in Venice, and even into the 20s inland.
Predictably, that pretty much shut down the superb fishing we’d been experiencing. Besides, who wants to even THINK about getting on the water with sustained winds 20-25 and gusts to more than 30 miles per hour?
Not THIS Captain, I can tell you THAT right now!
It’s shaping up to be a beautiful day for the free fly-casting clinic I’m doing with Dusty Sprauge at Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters. Much calmer than yesterday, when I guided Greg Mounts, his wife Irina, and Nicholas (9), and Julia (5). More about them in a minute.
First, I’ve gotta tell you about the total dedication that Julie Watrobka brings to the sport of fly fishing.
She and husband Greg (from Chicago) own a house near Marathon in the Keys, but made a five-hour drive up here and stayed at the Venice Holiday Inn (where my anglers get a special rate) for two nights.
All because my good friend Joseph Meyer, who owns Once More Cast fly shop in suburban Chicago, INSISTED that I was the one to teach her to cast.
When I first took Greg’s call, I politely told him that it was a long drive that would chew up two days of potential guide trips for me. “No problem,” he replied, “we’ll come up to you. We’ve never seen that part of Florida. It’ll be fun.”
What we ultimately decided was for them to meet me at the Holiday Inn around 1pm on Wednesday, and we’d spend several hours on dry land, working on casting nuances with both of them.
As it turned out, Joseph already had done a pretty good job with Greg, because there were only a few minor glitches to iron out.
So, Mrs. Watrobka got my undivided attention. Both on the grass and the following day, when we put the Hewes in at Indian Mounds and cruised around Lemon Bay.
Brother, was she a GAMER! Even when the wind kicked up, she refused to put down the fly rod. “I’ll take a little rest,” she said at one point, “but I really want to get this down. So far, I don’t have the feel. I need to keep at it until I get the feel.”
What a great attitude! Even though she didn’t catch a fish (Greg did, however). I don’t think it’ll be too long before she’s pitching 60 feet of line with that dedication!
Friday morning I met Richard Ives and his brother-in-law, Bob Morgan and we once again hit Lemon Bay.
Richard is a developer from Sterling Heights, near Detroit, so we had a lot to talk about, comparing notes on fishing the Pere Marquette, and even the upper Manistee, where Kate and I live half the year.
Bob, who retired from the police department in Raleigh, NC, really jolted me when I asked where he was from.
“Ohio,” he said.
“Yeah? Where in Ohio?” I replied.
“Youngstown.”
“No kidding! I grew up in Niles (10 miles away). And my mom was from Youngstown.”
Now, the bizarre part about this is that just last week, when I was guiding Lance Avery, John Hopkins, and Randy Gould, I found out that Randy was also from Youngstown.
Talk about “Old Home Week!”
To make it even more bizarre, Bob Morton had once been the chief of security for Carlisle’s department store, where my mother had worked for a while.
“What’s her name?” Bob asked. When I told him, he immediately replied, “Yep. I knew her!”
Oh, yes. About the fishing. I’d say the highlight of the day was Richard’s five-pound jack crevalle. It yanked him all around the boat for several minutes before I could ease the large net underneath and lift it from the water.
Bob, who’s still pretty new at fly fishing, got on the board with a couple of decent trout, but overall, it was slower action than we’d been having before the front blew through.
Now for the Mount Family.
“We live on a canal in Siesta Key,” Greg told me, “but we’ve never caught a fish. We see them, but they always refuse our lures.”
Hmmmmm.
Well, that WASN’T the case yesterday morning. Within minutes of stopping the boat and tossing out the sea anchor, little Julia was screeching in delight as she reeled in a small trout.
A Kodak Moment was duly observed, then Nicholas (not Nick, thank you) let out a whoop as his rod bent over in a handsome arc. An even larger trout came into the net, but yours truly bungled The Family Portrait. Turns out that after the fish was released, I realized I hadn’t made the picture.
Dead batteries in the camera!
Fortunately, I had fresh ones inside the console. Because it wasn’t long after Julia boated a 12-inch lizardfish (“No picture, honey, because lizardfish have lots of sharp teeth. See!” “SCREEEECH!” Julia replied), that they doubled up.
I think Julia hooked up first, but a carbon-copy ladyfish inhaled Nicholas’ jig within seconds. Yes, lines were tangled. Yes, the fish were landed. And yes, as you can see from the Featured Photo, the guide managed to do his job properly.
This time Julia was eager to hold her prize. Still a little bit of high-pitched shrieking, but hey—don’t we all get just a little bit excited?
Especially when you’re five years old!
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Venice - January 3rd, 2008
supplied by: Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters
RECORDED:
74 °
FISHING: Great
DECEMBER 30, 2007
THE YEAR IN REVIEW
(Up-to date Fishing Report to follow)
The BIG news is that Kate’s cancer is gone!
Her MRI and Mammogram two weeks ago showed that she’s free as a bird from the insidious clutches of The Big C. Sorta like a Rose Breasted Grosbeak flitting away from a Cooper’s Hawk. Whitebait evading a diving Osprey. Ladyfish dodging an Eagle’s talons.
In other words, we’re pretty damn happy right now! Kate did NOT become part of the “baitfish of life” three years after being diagnosed.
Those of you who’ve gone through it understand. If your trials are just beginning, we’re here to help. We don’t need to have ever met you. Plenty of folks we’d never heard of were here for Kate, so don’t hesitate to drop us (her) a note. As for the rest of you, profoundly thank your own personal Deity for such good fortune to be free of this grief.
Now to the Fishing Report and other news and notes you might find interesting.
FLORIDA
It’s been a pretty glorious Christmas Week in terms of catching fish. I spent several days in Lemon Bay, and the catching (mostly) was superb. The Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) in Nokomis and Osprey, likewise, was generous.
Lemon Bay near Stump Pass, and Fork Creek, were on fire. Except for the one day when poor Charlie Place experienced “Guide Failure” (sadly, more on THAT in a minute), EVERYBODY caught a plethora of fish.
Monday, it was Frank Bioteau, his son Zach, and son-in-law Craig Brewer. Wednesday was Marty Pool and his teenage sons Alex, Michael, and John. Thursday was Poor Charlie. Friday was Bob Goldsmith and his daughter Karen and her husband, Craig (in the ICW). Saturday was Lance Avery and his father-in-law John Hopkins and brother-in-law Randy Gould.
With the exception of Poor Charlie, everybody absolutely had a Career Day. They caught snook. They caught spotted sea trout. They caught mangrove snapper and lane snapper and red snapper onetwothree. They caught pompano and jack crevalle and lizardfish and ladyfish and Spanish mackerel and a BUNCH of three-pound bluefish.
Except Poor Charlie, who experienced “Guide Failure” and only caught four stinking fish in nearly five hours of fly-flinging. And, I’ve gotta tell you, Charlie’s a pretty good “flinger.”
As it turns out, I made a grievous tactical error on that day. When I’d fished Tom Ladimir and Wally Hedman the previous Friday, then Frank on Monday and Marty on Wednesday, I always started in Fork Creek around noon because the morning tides were hideously low.
And we cleaned up! Fish-on! was the constant cry. BUT, for some goldarned foolhardy reason I decided to run south in the ICW first-thing, THEN go up to The Creek.
Oh, my. What a mistake!
Charlie, I must admit, was a real Gamer. He kept casting and never complained. Even when the enormous school of redfish that surrounded us absolutely refused to eat a single offering.
He was pretty good about easing my anxiety, too. I must have apologized 30 times for the poor “catching.” He just smiled, made another cast, and finally hooked a trout, a Lane, and a couple of lizards.
And to think Lefty had bragged on me a little bit when Charlie told the venerable Mr. Kreh that we were fishing together. Geeze, now I’ll never hear the end of it from Lefty—and since he knows absolutely EVERYBODY in the fly fishing world—well…
At least the other guys had pretty much non-stop action! The bluefish were especially fun for Marty’s boys Alex (15), Mike (13), and Joe (11). They’d never experienced such slashing hits and “quick releases” when those sharp teeth cut through 20-pound fluoro like it was nothing.
I’d put the guys through my “Rookie School” last summer in Michigan. It’s a four-to-five-hour class that covers every aspect of fly fishing. Casting to entomology to wading to actually fishing a trout stream. Afterwards, Marty mentioned that his folks have a condo down here and “it would be great to take the boys out saltwater fishing.”
Even back in Michigan, it didn’t take long for me to figure out that Alex was the dedicated angler. Michael is a budding Einstein--real serious and scholarly. Joe is—well, he’s a lot like my puppy, Heart. “All Boy” is the best way to describe it. That hadn’t changed the day after Christmas.
Like, after we fished The Creek—where they’d boated several respectable snook, one large over-the-slot trout (by Alex, of course), and a bunch of red snapper—I pulled up in the middle of a large flat near Stump Pass. Joe took a look around, wrinkled his face in disgust, and promptly pronounced “there aren’t any fish here!”
After Alex then almost immediately hooked and boated a fish, I looked at Joe and couldn’t help saying, “Don’t you get tired of being right all the time?” I’m not sure if he caught the subtle dig, but Marty sure roared with laughter!
Ironically, Lance, John, and Randy said pretty much the same thing when I pulled up into the very same spot three days later.
And—nah, nah, nah, nah—nahhhhhh, nahhhhhh! They all caught a boatload of bluefish, trout, pompano and even a Spanish mackerel. No guide failure A-tall!
Between-times, I took Bob, Karen, and Craig up the ICW for a morning of trout, pompano, and ladyfishladyfishladyfish. The weather was fine, and the fishing was easy.
Which is more than I can say for the coming week!
The NDBC forecast is horrible, so please do NOT plan on coming fishing. By tomorrow morning there’s a chance of showers with dense fog. Then the weather gets bad.
By Tuesday, the forecast is north winds 25 to 30 knots with gusts to gale force. Sort of like you’ve been experiencing in the Upper Midwest the past few days. Only without the snow.
I spoke with my good pal Patrick Hager today. He lives in Wausau, WI, and told me as he was piling logs into his generous fireplace, “the snow’s two feet deep in the yard and more than four feet next to the driveway. The dogs are frantic to get out but they’ve got no place to go.”
He said it’s a snowmobiler’s dream-come-true. “And I’m not gonna leave the house for two days!”
Well, Patrick, I’ll be leaving the house, but it certainly doesn’t sound like my Hewes Redfisher will be back on the water any time soon!
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Heart is not quite seven months old and he’s a real handful. Kate and I probably say “Down, Heart!” about forty times a day. Or, “Leave It, Heart!” as he grabs yet some other unauthorized item ranging from the Sunday newspaper to potholders to pillows.
This morning, he decided to steal one of my just-purchased, one-hour-old sneakers. After my third and most-forceful “Heart! Leave It!” Ghost (the 10-year-old setter) leapt forward like an Avenging Angel and head-butted him into the dining room wall.
There was a short, high-pitched squeal from the puppy as he dropped my shoe and stared big-eyed and imploringly at Ghost. Sorta like, “Okay! Don’t hurt me! I’m sorry!” Ghost snorted, looking at me with a pretty self-satisfied grin on her face.
Then she walked over to the futon, jumped up, sighed contentedly, and curled up for a snooze. The puppy, still wide-eyed, swiveled his head from Ghost-to-me-to-Ghost. Finally, he plopped down onto the carpet. But his eyes were still wide open!
MICHIGAN
It’s cold and snowy and just right for a roaring fire and warm brandy.
MONTANA
More of the same. In spades!”
Until next time, check out the special deals we have at the Holiday Inn in Venice, and A Beach Retreat on the Gulf of Mexico in Nokomis. It’s a wonderful way to beat the snow and the cold and the crud!
From Capt. John, Lanie, Kate, and myself—we hope you have a safe, prosperous, and happy New Year. ESPECAIALLY all of you men and women deployed overseas. May you SOON come home to cast a fly over your favorite water!
And, when you do come home, or are back in the Venice area on leave, call me at 941-496-4289 and I’ll take you fishing whenever I’m not booked for a charter. No charge. It’s the least I can do for you!
Once again, Happy New Year from all of us to all of you.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - June 9th, 2007
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED: 
86 °
FISHING: Excellent
June 9, 2007
“WAHH, WAHH, WAAAHHH!”
It’s Tarpon Time, and charter captains throughout southwest Florida hear that sort of whining and wailing just about every morning because:
A) The fish are shooting craps and eating crabs at Poontangle Inn. Which is approximately 80 nautical miles from wherever the boat’s anchored.
B) The fish are streaming by at a steady pace—hundreds of them—except they’re all about forty feet beyond casting range.
C) The fish are blowing up right next to the boat but refusing every fly, lure, jig, or crab known to man, woman, and child.
D) The wind is blowing the boat in circles so it’s impossible to stand on the casting deck and the angler’s so dizzy he/she couldn’t hit a barn door let alone a tarpon.
E) The “Whammy” is on you like that legendary black cloud that always hovered over the head of Joe BLXFPT in the long-forgotten L’il Abner cartoon strip.
Never heard of old Joe? Then maybe you met Gary Anderson (or a guy just like him) somewhere during your fishing adventures.
You know the guy I’m talking about. The original Hard Luck Kid:
Drops his worm can into the water five minutes after getting to the crick.
Breaks his brand new rod—the only one he has on the trip—while getting ready to fish.
Throws a gigantic tangle of monofilament around his reel, or gets his fly line chewed up in the trolling motor prop while making his first cast.
Or, like poor Gary, is just one plumb unlucky guy.
Of course, Gary’s gotta shoulder a bit of the blame. See, his first mistake was staying up WAYYYY too late the night before our first day on the Gulf of Mexico.
His second mistake was gulping down a large portion of semi-edible fast-food just before bedtime.
His third mistake was sharing a flats skiff (mine) with Jon Witboom, who owns Flymasters of Indianapolis, and his old army pal, Rich Castle, from Texas.
They had spent the previous morning with me on a peaceful stretch of the Myakka River, where we were presented with numerous shots at juvenile tarpon. None of them were willing to eat a fly, however, so we left.
Ultimately, we cruised around Lemon Bay for a while. A couple of tiny snook were rash enough to double-up on Gary and Rich, and moments later Jon boated a feisty ladyfish.
Not a sterling day, all things considered. But the wind had been absolutely CHURNING the Gulf and the only people who were ecstatic about being out there that day were the surfer boys & gals.
That was on Monday. Tuesday’s wind was calmer. Sort of.
Heading north out of the Venice Jetty, my Hewes Redfisher 18 was skimming the wave tops at a leisurely 18mph. Jon was leaning back comfortably on the center console seat. Rich was whistling something I could barely hear.
Gary was white as my deck.
I didn’t know that, however, until I finally pulled the boat off plane and started dishing out rods.
One to Jon. Who started getting ready for battle.
One to Gary. Who took the rod, looked at the slow rollers that were gently rocking the boat, handed the rod to Rich, promptly rolled halfway off the starboard gunwale and was quietly sick.
Very, very sick.
In fact, Gary was not a participant in the morning’s activity as several pods of tarpon cruised within shooting range. Finally, I suggested that it might be wise to get Gary back to the Venice Holiday Inn while Jon and Rich stayed with the boat.
Which, of course, effectively ended our morning of tarpon fishing.
Gary still had the Do Not Disturb sign on the door when we got back in mid-afternoon, and we ultimately determined that a touch of food poisoning might have abetted his troubles that morning.
That was Wednesday.
Thursday found a bit more chop on the water, but since Gary hadn’t even THOUGHT about food the previous evening, we were able to concentrate of spotting fish.
And yes, there were fish. Unfortunately, poor Gary had that black cloud hanging over his head.
Jon was on the bow. Rich was midships, spotting, and Gary was on the port side stern leaning against the poling platform. We had been seeing a lot of tarpon, and some were cruising just below the surface.
“Gary, cast that crab pattern out and let it float around. Jon, get your fly in the ‘ready-position’ in case fish pop up,” I told them. Minutes later, Rich and I stared at a very healthy 125-pound tarpon that flashed up from below the boat and sucked in Gary’s crab.
Except Gary was momentarily preoccupied plucking a knot out of his fly line—or something—and never saw the fish inhale the fly. Predictably, like a man mistakenly putting a wax grape into his mouth, the tarpon disgustedly spat out the fly and swam away.
“Why didn’t you set the hook?” Rich asked.
“Why?” Gary replied.
“Because a very nice tarpon just swam away unmolested when you didn’t set the hook,” I said.
“I never saw him. I didn’t know. I just…” WAHH, WAHH, WAAAHHH.
Obviously, there was no way Jon or Rich or I was going to let Gary off easy. So, we kept up the banter until a very large tarpon attempted to eat my boat.
Well, that might be a SLIGHT exaggeration. But not much.
“Hit him, Jon,” I yelled, and he flipped his fly over the side. “Too far left. Lead him to the right, Jon.”
Which Jon attempted. Except Gary was now so pumped full of adrenaline that he also smashed his rod off to the right and it sounded like a sword fight in progress “click, clack, click”.
By the time the tangled fly lines were plucked apart, the second tarpon that should have been in the boat had swum off to Sarasota or Tampa or Corpus Christi.
But tomorrow is a new day and hordes of tarpon are out there off Casey Key and Rob Adrian’s in from Arizona.
Film at 11!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - April 26th, 2007
supplied by: Tail Chaser Fish Gear and Charter Service
RECORDED:
85 °
FISHING: Excellent
maps
Venice Florida Fishing Report The Tail Chaser Fleet has had a great month fishing inshore and offshore charters. Our Inshore team led by Capt. Chris O’Neill has caught plenty of oversized Redfish, along with giant Snook that have began their spring migration out of the rivers. Redfish have been plentiful along the West Wall of the Myakka River, as well as the Cattle Dock area of the river. The bar outside of Cape Haze has held multiple species all month. The Snook bite has been insane, with most of Capt. Chris’ guides using Tarpon gear to pull the monsters out of the structure. The bait of choice has been pilchards and threadfins. Artificial will produce, but live bait is the guarantee to giant fish. Tarpon, Tarpon, Tarpon! The Tail Chaser Fleet boated over 40 Silver King Tarpon in the month of April. The bite will only get better for the next two months, and be steady through the summer. Tarpon are hungry to eat your larger threadfins. Large schools have been running the bar along the east side of Charlotte Harbor. The Offshore captains have been finding major bites along the beaches and out to 150 feet. The Kings have been running within 1-15 miles of our beaches, along with plenty of Spanish Mackerel. Grouper are found along the wrecks, and have been smacking pinfish and threadfins fished on the bottom. Trolling will also work well, over the wrecks. Chum heavy for the best results. If you would like to experience some of this unbelievable action, give us a call. We are excited about the new line-up of guides we have now, and look forward to continued success. For the best fishing in the Venice Florida or Charlotte Harbor area, spend a day with one our team of world-class guides. Visit our new website www.tailchasercharters.com, or call Capt. Chris @ (941) 270-7867.
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Venice - Snook Alley - April 15th, 2007
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED: 
62 °
FISHING: Great
APRIL 14, 2007
I had a great time yesterday! Again!
Bill Brindel and his buddy, Al Parillo, are down from upstate New York for a week and decided to take a half-day charter. What a hoot!
Bill’s an electrical contractor with a dry sense of humor that sometimes made me do a double-take. And Al’s a Sicilian who makes gloves for the US military and loves my Guisseppe & Luigi jokes. What could be better than that?
Catching fish? Yeah, we (they) did plenty of THAT, too. Al really laid it on (and I got in a couple of funny shots, too) when Bill landed a two-inch snapper and a four-inch lizardfish. They both got into a bunch of healthy ladyfish, though.
Unfortunately, the redfish we saw were pretty spooky and wouldn’t eat.
I took John De Muth, his son, John, and his son-in-law, Mark, on a real excursion Thursday morning. We started off looking for reds (zip), went up to Grassy for Spanish (more zip!), and finally worked back inside where they landed a lot of trout and ladies and some lizards.
Nice guys. Lots of laughs.
The night before, Brad Hardin and HIS son-in-law joined me for night snook. Lots of fish. Several hookups. No Kodak Moments! It’s just been that kind of wacky season under the lights. A total flip-flop from last year.
Earlier in the week,Dean Morton, his dad Chuck, and HIS brother-in-law, Ray Larned spent the day with me and we had a ball. Laughed all day.
Ironically, I grew up in Niles, Ohio. They grew up in Niles, Michigan. The same small town only in different states. Know what I mean?
Dean lives in Boulder now, working in the computer biz. Chuck, who’s been coming down to Venice with his family for nearly 40 years, still lives in Niles. “Never been anyplace else,” he said, “except for my time in service.”
Ray, who dabbled as an outfielder and pitcher at Western Michigan for a couple of years, eventually got a degree in education and just retired from the Saline (MI) School District.
OK. So much for the background bios.
Bottom line: We went outside and didn’t find any mackerel that wanted to play. And I mean to tell you I marked HUNDREDS of fish on the Garmin 172C!
Feeling somewhat miffed, we motored back inside the Venice Jetty and went looking for redfish. Nope.
OK. I can take a hint.
Off we went toward Little Sarasota Bay.
No, it did not disappoint us.
Dean caught the first fish. And the second. Maybe even the third. Yeah, I’m pretty positive he caught the third one, too, because about that time he started jabbing Old Dad pretty good. And I helped.
Ray caught a couple of fish about that time, and he and Dean really started unloading on Old Dad. And I helped.
Actually, it got to the point where I kept changing Chuck’s jig in the hope he’d finally land a fish. He did. A lizardfish. About 4 inches long.
It flopped back into the water before I could get a photo, but I DID snap one when Chuck was unhooking another “lizard” maybe 5 inches long.
“Did you catch that fish or snag it?” Dean yelled. Ray laughed. I took pictures. Chuck swore at me. He was just kidding, though. I think.
Actually, the fellas did a pretty good job of catching some decent spotted sea trout and a few hefty ladyfish before the phone rang. It was Capt. Mark.
He’d finished his morning trip and was back home watching the weather channel. and called to tell me there was a band of heavy weather moving through Sarasota.
Thanks, Mark!
We fished a bit longer and got a few more fish on the jigs I’d tied. They have a white head, two white hackle feathers on each side, and some pearl estaz for the “body.”
I tie the same pattern, but add some olive Polar Fiber for going “outside” after Spanish, Kings, and bonito. It’s merely a spin-fishing adaptation of the flies I tie.
Anyway, we caught a few more fish and the phone rang again. Kate.
“This is weather-central with an update,” she said. “You’re gonna get dumped on within 30 minutes.”
OK. “Let’s fish one more drift,” I said. Then the raindrops started falling on our heads and I pulled the plug.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - April 10th, 2007
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED: 
66 °
FISHING: Great
APRIL 10, 2007
I had a great time yesterday!
Dean Morton, his dad Chuck, and HIS brother-in-law, Ray Larned spent the day with me and we had a ball. Laughed all day.
Ironically, I grew up in Niles, Ohio. They grew up in Niles, Michigan. The same small town only in different states. Know what I mean?
Dean lives in Boulder now, working in the computer biz. Chuck, who’s been coming down to Venice with his family for nearly 40 years, still lives in Niles. “Never been anyplace else,” he said, “except for my time in service.”
Ray, who dabbled as an outfielder and pitcher at Western Michigan for a couple of years, eventually got a degree in education and just retired from the Saline (MI) School District.
OK. So much for the background bios.
Bottom line: We went outside and didn’t find any mackerel that wanted to play. And I mean to tell you I marked HUNDREDS of fish on the Garmin 172C!
Feeling somewhat miffed, we motored back inside the Venice Jetty and went looking for redfish. Nope.
OK. I can take a hint.
Off we went toward Little Sarasota Bay.
No, it did not disappoint us.
Dean caught the first fish. And the second. Maybe even the third. Yeah, I’m pretty positive he caught the third one, too, because about that time he started jabbing Old Dad pretty good. And I helped.
Ray caught a couple of fish about that time, and he and Dean really started unloading on Old Dad. And I helped.
Actually, it got to the point where I kept changing Chuck’s jig in the hope he’d finally land a fish. He did. A lizardfish. About 4 inches long.
It flopped back into the water before I could get a photo, but I DID snap one when Chuck was unhooking another “lizard” maybe 5 inches long.
“Did you catch that fish or snag it?” Dean yelled. Ray laughed. I took pictures. Chuck swore at me. He was just kidding, though. I think.
Actually, the fellas did a pretty good job of catching some decent spotted sea trout and a few hefty ladyfish before the phone rang. It was Capt. Mark.
He’d finished his morning trip and was back home watching the weather channel. and called to tell me there was a band of heavy weather moving through Sarasota.
Thanks, Mark!
We fished a bit longer and got a few more fish on the jigs I’d tied. They have a white head, two white hackle feathers on each side, and some pearl estaz for the “body.”
I tie the same pattern, but add some olive Polar Fiber for going “outside” after Spanish, Kings, and bonito. It’s merely a spin-fishing adaptation of the flies I tie.
Anyway, we caught a few more fish and the phone rang again. Kate.
“This is weather-central with an update,” she said. “You’re gonna get dumped on within 30 minutes.”
OK. “Let’s fish one more drift,” I said. Then the raindrops started falling on our heads and I pulled the plug.
Dang iff’n it hain’t been a-rainin’ ever since! In fact, I called Buck Levy—who was supposed to fish night-snook with me this evening—and told him to forget driving up from Captiva. Good thing. It’s 5:15 and still raining. And a couple of hours ago it was as black as night outside, and the rain was coming down summertime-hard.
Next time, Buck. Next time!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - April 3rd, 2007
supplied by: Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters
RECORDED:
84 °
FISHING: Good
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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Weather and Lunar Phases
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Venice - April 1st, 2007
supplied by: Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters
RECORDED:
84 °
FISHING: Great
Where, oh, WHERE are the baitfish?
That, my friends is the million-dollar question! Once it’s answered, holy hell is going to break loose on the nearshore Gulf of Mexico.
You see, we are absolutely loaded up with Spanish mackerel out there in 25 to 30 feet of water. They’re hugging the bottom, and thrashing around, and generally in a bad frame of mind.
Why?
Because the huge schools of baitfish that will (soon, I hope) turn the water off Casey Key, Manasota Key, and Venice Beach into a churning mass of body parts are still somewhere out in the Gulf.
Consorting with foreign senoritas? Maybe down ole’ Meyhico way? Perhaps, senor! Because they’re not around here. Yet. Which is driving all of us absolutely CRAZY with anticipation.
Every morning just after dawn several of my compadres and I blast out of the Venice Jetty and fan out north to Grassy Point or south to Casperson Rocks. Our eyes are lifted skyward, praying for the telltale giveaway of gulls and terns and pelicans smashing the water in a frenzied feast.
With but few exceptions—like the day I took the Brothers Ragone, Dominic and John, to The Rocks—we just haven’t had a full-blown Mac Attack.
For those of you who don’t catch the lingo, allow me to explain. Have you ever been on the bad end of a mortar attack? How ‘bout just a boyhood snowball fight when you were “It” and half the known world was “Them?”
Maybe something as simple as getting caught between the Sno-Cone truck and 79 third-graders from PS 122 on the last day of school.
Understand what I’m saying here? A Mac Attack is to be taken seriously. Verrrrrry seriously.
You guys from Up East know what I mean. The Bluefish Blitz? Sure, that’s it. That’s what we’ve been waiting for.
In other words, all-out war. Baitfish being slaughtered by the thousands by Spanish and King mackerel and Little Tunny while the birds gorge on the remains and anglers revel in the hookups.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about” John Ragone said that morning two weeks ago. I was trying to keep the brand new Redfisher 18 from nudging The Rocks just off the beach when John hooked up.
Then he hooked up again. And again. “Dom! Still wanna keep usin’ that fly rod? I’m already up on ya three-zip.” Dominic grunted and made a longer case.
“Make that four-zip, brother!”
Dominic finally got on the board, though, and then we headed inside for a looksee at reds and trout and ladyfish.
By the way. I haven’t Snope-d this, but I heard the fast-food joints now are using ladyfish for their fish sandwiches. A guy told me somebody found a way to pressure-cook the meat away from the bones. Then they shape it into a fish-stick and serve it up with tartar sauce and a side of pickle.
Anybody else heard that?
Geeze. I hope they don’t decimate the population of A Guide’s Best Friend. Lord knows, those Leapin’ Lenas saved my bacon a couple times just in the past week!
The Brothers Elsener (George and Jim) were down from Chicago and that certainly was the case. Ditto for Rod Hamilton and his wife, Kim Kompetitive.
In each case, we were zip-for-the-morning on Spanish, but look-out-brother on ladyfish. Kim was a real hoot.
“Got another one! Oh, god^%#@ it got away. Am I allowed to say that? It’s not very ladylike, is it?”
Well, it’s certainly “ladyfish-like.”
John Courtemanche and his son, Rod, fared a little better. Rod, at least, managed to dredge up a couple of Spanish before we tucked back inside and nailed some trout and ladies.
Jamie Lynch and his dad, Jack, had a non-stop morning in Little Sarasota Bay. Too bad Jamie’s 9-year-old daughter, Katie, decided to sleep in.
Especially when Our Favorite Dolphin—Freddie The Freeloader—came calling when we were idling near the Albee Bridge. “I’ve gotta get some pictures,” Jamie yelped. “She’ll really be upset that she didn’t see THIS.”
Jamie and Jack are both engineers from Pennsylvania. At least Jack WAS before retiring and moving to Gettysburg because of his infatuation with the American Civil War.
“After the second time my wife asked me what I was going to do the rest of the day and it was only 9:30 in the morning,” Jack said, “I went down and became a guide. I absolutely LOVE it.”
Jamie was still taking calls for pending construction projects, even as we were tooling our way home. “Sorry,” he said. “That’s OK, I replied. YOU keep working so then down the road I’LL keep working!”
Don Peterson was down—also from Pennsylvania—visiting his longtime pal Jim Cranos, who lives on Casey Key, and we headed off the beach last Friday.
They caught a rather mixed back of snapper and blue runners but no Spanish before we went inside and Don absolutely wore out his arm landing fish.
I was teasing them about the Report I was formulating in my head. “Yep, I can see it now,” I told them. “I’ll write about how two CFOs from a couple of huge Fortune 500 companies had this $100,000 bet on the first fish.
“And Jim won with a four-inch Lane snapper!”
I THINK they thought it was funny! Eh, guys?
Mangrove Coast Fly Fishers (FFF) banquet is tonight so I’d better scoot to get there on time.
BTW—my Hewes Bayfisher 16 is for sale. It’s in GREAT shape—looks darn-near like new, and does have a new steering linkage that just was installed last week.
Lots of extras like poling platform, stainless prop, windscreen/grab-rail, and more. An absolute steal at $9,750. Call me for a test drive!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
photos
Weather and Lunar Phases
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