Tales From The Tupperware Navy
Welcome back Yak fans. Summer is really here—MAYBE? and the patterns will be going into the warmer water cycles, but before that, I want to share a recent trip with you. I was on a charter with Mike from Idaho, for a day’s fishing in Northern Hernando County. The day started out with bad news, as I learned that one of my favorite “put-ins” on Pine Island Drive, was soon to be shut down, due to the homeowner, (which by the way, is a friend of mine) telling me that he was fed up with people driving through his yard and blocking the road. You might imagine that this pissed me off, since I’m the only one that has permission from him and the homeowners’ association, to put in there, and there is room for maybe four cars. There were no fewer than ten idiots parked along the narrow roadway. Thanks guys, rant done. Back to fishing, except to say the put-in is like a fishing spot. If somebody is already there, then go somewhere else.
So with that wonderful news, we set out. We had a good time working through the marsh with reds, trout, black drum, and sheepshead making an appearance, and Mike hooked into a nice red in the skinny water on my favorite zara spook Junior (in bone), of course. The real surprise of the day came as we worked our way back about a half-mile in shore, to a spring I know. I sent Mike down the feeder Creek to search out a snook, and I waited there as the Creek was a little narrow for two. Soo–as I sat there, I thought, “what the heck?” I anchored on the edge of the spring and dropped a shrimp down to see if anybody was home, put the rod in the rod holder and turned to see how Mike was doing, and wham, my seven-foot light Fenwick rod, with 10 pound test, bent double. Grabbing the rod and wondering what the heck was on the other end, I felt him find the dead tree that we know is down there, and now I’m snagged up. (Great!!!) Well I put the rod back in the rod holder, opened the bail, pulled up the anchor, which pulled me a good ten feet back form the hole, and paddled to the other side of the spring and started to pull. I felt a little thunk, thunk, and realized I’d gotten free from the tree, but thought, “There’s no way that fish is still there.” As I took in the slack, suddenly it was game-on all over again. Now I’m doing the fisherman’s prayer. “Please just let me see what it is!” Please, lol, I’m thinking, “Okay, this isn’t a black drum and it sure doesn’t act like a redfish, maybe a monster Sheepshead , but it sure acts like a …Nah it can’t be, I’m a half-mile inshore.” As I started to gain some ground, Mike came paddling back and says, “Whatta you got?” By now, I’m pretty sure I know, but I’m not going to jinx myself. So I say, “I’m not sure.” I finally got it to the boat, and sure enough, it’s a nearly 24 inch goliath grouper. I’ll tell you what; that’s a powerful fish! The hook was deep in the cartilage of his upper mouth, which is why I didn’t lose him to the tree, but why the line didn’t snap, I’ll never know. As I pulled him in to get the hook out, we snapped some pictures and I thought, great story, then I thought, protected species, not to be removed from the water. I felt like maybe if I shared these pictures, I might as well put my face on the wall of the post office. I had visions of an FWC guy coming in and saying, “Nice story, great pictures. Please sign this ticket right here.” Ouch!!!; but a quick call to our FWC let me know that as long as I was just removing the hook, and grabbed a couple of pictures, I was okay. Right officer Alan Pierce, and thanks for your help.
Also, the cobia are ready to make their appearance soon, hopefully more on that next month!
The grouper was too much fun, and swam away to play another day.
Till next time, Bruce