NOVEMBER 28, 2007

FLORIDA

I had a lot of fun yesterday playing in the dirt with Dusty Sprague. Naw, we weren?t vroom-vrooming tractors, trucks, or John Deere Green around an imaginary condo development. Even kids like us are too old for THAT.

What we did was launch my Hewes Redfisher 18 out of Eldred?s Marina?since Charlotte County decided to tear up the Placida public ramp and it isn?t ?scheduled? to be open until February 3?and poke around Gasparilla and Charlotte Harbor.

What a day of revelations!

Number 1 was a nice little flat that was loaded with barracuda-like fishies that I ?think? are called Sennet. Not very big, but mind you they have serious teeth!

I?ve never encountered this species before. I?ll have to ask Dr. Aaron Adams?the local fisheries guru?about them. Dusty said he?d heard they?re ?cuda cousins, and judging from the looks of ?em I wouldn?t disagree.

Number 2 was the startling absence of water!

When I said we were playing in the dirt, I REALLY mean I was poling along vast expanses of exposed sand and sea grasses. In fact, it was impossible to get back into areas I routinely fish in Gasparilla Sound and The Harbor.

The GOOD thing was that it forced the fish to stack up in the troughs of deeper water along the edges. Fish were EVERYWHERE!

Dusty boated a 19-inch trout first, then a snook just shy of 24 inches. A four-foot black-tip shark was tearing up the baitfish (and some considerably larger fish!) around the boat, and I suggested that Dusty might want to make a cast over its head.

?I?m rigged way too light,? he replied. ?I?m trying out a new 6-weight rod that I?m taking to Mexico next week, and that shark would tear it up.?

I offered the use of a 9-weight tipped with 30-pound fluoro but he still declined, instead boating a two-foot ladyfish, then the largest darned puffer fish I?ve ever seen.

?I sure would like to catch a redfish,? Dusty lamented, after I ungraciously dubbed him ?The Puffer King.?

?Well, there are a pair of them at two o?clock,? I said. ?Maybe one of them might eat that fly.?

?WHERE?? Dusty asked, whirling around. Then he spotted them and promptly ?boinked? the lead fish smack on the head.

?Well, I really screwed that one up,? he said, laughing. Unfortunately, I had to agree. But, since I?ve been-there/done-that myself on more than one occasion it was no-harm/no-foul.

The only ?harm? came when Dusty pinned a number two hook into my left ankle when he made a sidearm cast while I was spinning the boat.

?Did I mention the hundred-dollar fine for hooking the guide?? I said as a line of blood trickled down the side of my leg.

?Oh, God,? Dusty exclaimed. ?You?re the first person I?ve hooked this season.?

?Lucky me,? I said, dipping my leg into the water to wash the blood off my ankle while wondering exactly where that blacktip was lurking.

The wind started blowing about that time, exposing yet more dirt, so we decided to pull the plug and head for the ramp.

Dusty would simply have to accept the fact that even a Federation of Fly Fishers Master Casting Instructor (who also happens to be a member of the FFF?s Casting Board of Governors) could botch a couple of casts that cost him the ?Inshore Slam.?

Which he did, with his typical quiet grace.

But if you wanted to hear some real hootin? ?n hollerin? you should have been with me last Saturday, when I guided Tim Egan, Tom Gilbane, and Eric Bertelson.

Tim?s family has owned a house on Casey Key for many years, and his family was spending Thanksgiving together down here. The three brothers-in-law were hankering for some fishing, and called Casey Key Anglers & Outfitters to find out if a guide was available.

?Saturday?s the only day we can go,? Tom told Kevin Cooke, who owns the shop with dad Bob. ?Is anybody free to take us out??

I was, and I did.

The guys have fly fished in Belize, Montana, and the Seychelles, so we first tried flinging two fly rods and one spin. Several non-lethal ?Geeze-I?m?sorry-mans? later we went to one fly and two spin.

And it was strictly murder!

They?d hook one fish. They?d double-up. Once or twice all three guys had fish on and it was like taking a number at the deli. ?You keep yours in that water,? I?d tell Tom and Tim, ?while I net Eric?s.? Or Tom?s. Or Tim?s.

They must have caught 60 fish between them during the four hours we were out! By the time I pulled up to their dock at the house near Midnight Pass, the only thing they wanted to raise was a glass of something cold.

Later that night I had an e-mail from Tim?s father. ?The guys had a great time and said I should get ahold of you to book a tarpon trip in June.?

And, we did!



MICHIGAN

Water temps for the Manistee River are in the low 40s below Tippy Dam, as wells as at The Little River and the Pere Marquette. The water?s also very low and clear, so a stealthy approach is mandatory if you expect to even spot a steelhead.

Realistic flies such as Hexagenia nymphs are the best bet right now. Streamers fished low and slow can also bring results on brown trout as well as steelies.

The flies-only water of the upper Manistee between M72 and CCC Bridge is open and can produce some impressive brown trout throughout the winter.

Same for the Au Sable ?Holy Water? between Burton?s Landing and Wakeley Bridge.

ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE

The stainless steel plate in Ghost?s left rear leg was removed November 15 and she was supposed to be ?kept quiet? for two to three weeks.

RIGHT!

Three days after the surgery she was asking me why we weren?t out hunting grouse and woodcock.

I patiently explained that:

A) the season was closed

B) the doctors insisted that she rest the leg and let the interior stitches heal.

To which she replied:

A) how can the season be OVER? Seems like it just began!

B) RIDICULOUS! I?m perfectly fine!

Well, here we are barely two weeks later and she?s crashing around the house chasing Heart?who, equally incredible, is about to turn six months old.

The two of them are getting along far better than my wildest hopes. Of course, she put the Fear of Ghost into the pup early on, so he has a healthy respect for The Big Dog. Even though he actually weighs more than she does right now.

Speaking of which, it appears that our ?Little Boy,? who we have tongue-in-cheek nicknamed Conan (as in The Barbarian) is going to top out somewhere around 60 pounds.

Assuming he LIVES that long, considering the pebbles, wire nuts, and other assorted stuff he ingests when we?re not vigilantly watching his every move. The mess he regurgitated yesterday was, well, a mess. Besides the little rocks, he even managed to find a small wire nail somewhere in the back yard.

He hasn?t yet ?grown into? his big feet, long legs and large head so we?re just guessing at 60 pounds. He?ll NEVER be as graceful or nimble as Ghost (even with the busted ACL), but he definitely will be a lot BIGGER.

I guess it?ll soon be time for a trip to Dream Lakes for a quail hunt!

Till next time?
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony