I'm off in slumber zone when my phone starts a text rattle on my bedside table. Due to my recent history, my first thought as I struggle to get my brain neurons in waking order is "damn it! not again!". However, as my eyes focus I see 5:10 on the alarm clock which is 5 minutes before that god awful noise will erupt from it. The text is from Heywood asking if I'd seen the radar yet. Uh, no, Heywood I haven't but you did rob me of 5 minutes of sleep!
I shake my head a bit hoping it'll speed up the process of waking up and fire up the radar on my trusty hand held super power also known as an iphone. Hmmmm, that line of storms doesn't look very friendly. We were heading to a spot south of the skyway, the infamous SOTE where fishermen are real men and the women are beautiful, so after a bit of back and forth we decided we were awake so lets go for a couple hours.
We meet at the launch at fishermen's time - O dark 30 - and unload quickly. Knowing that time will be limited we hustled. It was dark, a touch windy and the temps were almost jacket weather as we headed to 'the spot'. That one magical place in a long line of mangroves where epic tales are made and, dare I say, legends are born.
The mullet were everywhere and it was almost too beautiful out to fish as the sun rose.
Heywood and I managed a bunch of snook. All were in the low to mid 20's making the early part of our trip a showcase in topwater fun. Then it happened. I made a cast and my Spook immediately got the attention of something. 40+ inches of something. Wake that makes you suck in your breath something. It made two passes but never climbed on my lure. We both staked out and made another 100 casts but never got its attention again. Have no idea what it was but it was huge and I was mere seconds away from an epic story to tell. Instead, I'll just make this regular fishing report wordy as hell to compensate.
Heywood caught a trout in the mix and I caught a sennet, that little barracuda imposter.
We ran into a few other kayak fishermen out there who had launched well after we did (ahem...) so we had to thread a path through them as we moved on to a second 'the spot' to try and find a redfish that I'd promised for dinner.
As we arrived, the clouds over our left shoulder were getting ominous. Scratch that, they were ominous. We decided that we'd wimp out and head for the launch instead of getting pounded. The intelligent decision of a couple middle aged guys who've been through it before and realize now that it is foolhardy and somewhat stupid to be out on the water when that stuff hits. Besides, before the front the wind was at our back which would speedily get us back.
Then the redfish hit my topwater. It actually looked like 2 redfish fighting for ownership of that Spook. One won the battle only to lose the ensuing battle. It became what I affectionately call "dinner".
Heywood watched my battle and then cast in to get his own damn redfish. His lure was inhaled quickly and his battle was on. It was a tough battle with a good sized fish named Jack. Jack did not go home for dinner.
By now the timing of our intelligent decision had long passed. The front came bringing howling winds and horizontal rain. Lovely stuff in a kayak. As I scrambled to put on my Frogg Togg jacket I chuckled out of smugness that I'd brought a rain jacket and Heywood hadn't. That'll teach him, I muttered loud enough for him to hear.
We first tried hiding behind a mangrove island. While out of the wind, we were not out of the downpour. I was fine with that until I realized that my rain jacket had evolved into a jacket in the time it had spent behind my truck seat and tucked in my kayak milk crate. No more Frogg in my Frogg Toggs. Okay, we're getting soaked. This sucks. Screw the wind, let's paddle.
As we headed back in the wind clocked around, of course. Now it, and the white caps, are directly on our beam as we crossed the open bay. Heywood in his new speedy Hurricane took off. Don't let it fool you. It may be slow yellow on top but the bottom is slick fast white. I, in my ultra comfortable in weather not like this Native Ultimate, had to plod across the bay as the boat got heavier and heavier from water splashing over the side. Barnacle learned once again that there is no place to hide from weather in that kayak. Heywood arrived at the launch well before I did but he did not have 15 gallons of souvenir water in his boat with him. While I felt fortunate to be gifted with such a nice souvenir, I pumped it out to leave it for the next guy. I'm just that kind of guy.
Goodbyes at the launch when it's pouring rain usually last about 4 seconds. This time they lasted about 3 seconds. I'm guessing Heywood also had the heat on as he drove home.
3 hours, a bunch of fish, good exercise, a beautiful sunrise, a strong Florida storm front, not having to wash anything down and another 'made it home alive' story all followed by a nice afternoon nap. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday.
Photos stolen by me from Heywood. With self assumed impunity.
Saturday, Nov 2nd
Saturday, Nov 2nd
Over every mountain there is a path, although it may not be seen from the valley
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
What a morning. Lots of action and maybe a very hesitant decision to stay out a bit longer than we should have.
This is when the fishing got good, it was also just about when the storm front rolled in on top of us.
This is when the fishing got good, it was also just about when the storm front rolled in on top of us.
"Anytime I shag a buddies wife I always cut the lawn when I'm done " ~ The Leg End ~
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
Nice post....
Did ya'll go over the rail to launch or paddle under the bridge?
Did ya'll go over the rail to launch or paddle under the bridge?
"Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut".
Ernest Hemingway
Ernest Hemingway
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
Under the gate.
Over every mountain there is a path, although it may not be seen from the valley
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
Good stuff!
Old School T160
Marion Jay "JayB" Brewington
July 26, 1949 - April 16, 2009
Marion Jay "JayB" Brewington
July 26, 1949 - April 16, 2009
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
Great report and photos!
Mark .aka. Man of Purpose. Original Chincy Jones
Ultimate 14.5 sand & blue Indian River Outdoorsman.
The jig is up and weedless.
Ultimate 14.5 sand & blue Indian River Outdoorsman.
The jig is up and weedless.
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
Huh?Rik wrote:Under the gate.
"Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut".
Ernest Hemingway
Ernest Hemingway
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
Thanks, I enjoyed reading your post.
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
Great report. It is times like that, that make me glad I am paddling something the rain runs off rather than runs into.
Being out on the water in the kayak is the prize. Catching fish is the bonus.
Steve
Steve
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Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
The gate by the rail.cag215 wrote:Huh?Rik wrote:Under the gate.
You know what La Quinta means in English? Behind Dennys. MarkM
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
Great stuff!
Senior Exalted Pro Staff Member of the Paddle-Fishing.com Kayak & Canoe Anglers Club
"SANCTUARY!!!"
Capitalization is the difference between helping your Uncle Jack off a horse, and helping your uncle jack off a horse.
"SANCTUARY!!!"
Capitalization is the difference between helping your Uncle Jack off a horse, and helping your uncle jack off a horse.
- Urban Legend II
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- Joined: Thu Jan 27, 2011 12:56 pm
- Location: Winter Garden, FL via Fort Stewart, GA
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
Didn't know there was a gate!
Hobie Pro Angler 14
"Calling fishing a hobby is like calling brain surgery a job"
"Calling fishing a hobby is like calling brain surgery a job"
Re: Saturday, Nov 2nd
Curses...a good read, but some fishing poetry to start the day would have been most excellent.Rik wrote:Have no idea what it was but it was huge and I was mere seconds away from an epic story to tell.
Perhaps my feeble attempt to start the day will be worthy of such tales...
PFTS#3 is where men of ages test their angling skills
a cool morning, a warming sun, a blue sky...
At weigh in time I'll come up short again
and the winds of December whisper why... o why...
The fish will reply...
when it comes to gator trout - he sucks.
Truly epic...
JB