By Capt. Tim Ramsey
There are two things wrong with fishing by yourself. The first is, you miss the camaraderie of a fishing partner, the laughing, joking, chit-chat, and witness to your catch. The second is, you can never really tell how good you’re doing.
I retired from the US Army recently and found myself, after the death of my father, changing directions in life from returning to the Middle East with a defense contractor to staying in Naples to make sure my mother was okay. Life didn’t just take a turn. It made a 360, went through the mud, fell over a few cliffs, got doused in donuts, depression and doubt, ruined by a hurricane, and set on a course that would see me selling boats, fishing alone, spending more time at the gun range than I did in a full military career, living in my mother’s house (thanks to Irma), and writing.
It was a strange transition, but interesting in small, but interesting (at least to me) ways. Sometimes frustrating ways. For example, I find myself practicing my sarcasm skills on social media. I seem to have a knack for it. I also discovered my “blurting” problem, like when I see an oh-so-trendy man in Florida wearing shorts and a scarf, I can’t help but blurt “man-scarf,” out loud. Jean shorts get “Jorts!” Don’t even get me started on people with the collars up on their shirts. Yes, I’ve become incorrigible. And I digress.
As I was saying, two things wrong with fishing by yourself. While fishing alone can be therapeutic sometimes, usually it’s a bit lonesome. My wife works in Panama so I’m alone a lot, and it led to problem number two: I can’t tell how well I’m doing. Sure, if it’s tarpon season I can go and catch tarpon. But, doing it alone is difficult and I’m not into being a tarpon torturer anyway. I know, I catch and release everything else, but I don’t fight those fish for an hour. Yes, I’m catching fish. Sometimes, I’m catching bunches of fish, but I can’t tell if it’s good or not? Am I catching all the small ones and everyone else is getting the biggies? Am I concentrating on one species when everyone else is tearing-up something else? Am I better at this than most people but just don’t know it?
And the paradoxes continue: I can catch tarpon, but while catching one I might be able to catch ten snook. While waiting for tarpon I could be running those trap lines catching tripletail. Baby reds are all over, but I know where the big ones hang out so, do I catch a bunch of little ones or a couple big ones if I’m not keeping any of them anyway? I could enter some tournaments to check my skill level but I’m by myself and it’s a pain to do that alone, plus it’s sort of embarrassing. Yes, this taking care of Mom thing is not without its embarrassing, humiliating, soul-crushing moments, like when you witness something exciting on the boat, blurt out “hey, did you see that,” and turn to realize no one is there.
This is actually where we start. A retired army guy, back in the area, rediscovering the Ten Thousand Islands and Everglades National Park. Figuring out the migratory patterns of snook and redfish. Running my Skeeter in the backcountry. Scowling at the guys that use the bait cleaning table and the jet ski tours. Keeping five rods ready with bucktail, rubber jig, topwater lure, suspending lure, and floating/diving lure. I don’t say “plug” and stopped keeping a rod with a circle hook and one with a rattle float and hook. I found my cast net skills are still there, but live baiting isn’t my thing. Bottom fishing also isn’t on the menu. Anyone asks what I’m fishing for, it’s always “snook, what else?” I reaffirmed my belief in Montes bucktails and joke about buying so many I paid for his car. October to May, I’m the guy that’s in your way near the stone crab floats. I’m starting to take small videos of fishing in the back country or out in front and I will show others what I’m doing and where…if they ask. I don’t divulge spots frequently used by local guides, mostly because that sucks, I’m not that guy, but lately, it’s because I see them just trying to keep the action going and I’m looking for something else. Besides, since the bad red tide of last year, we have a lot of fishermen and guides from outside the area, and I don’t want to rat (censored) the locals. But stay tuned. I’m out there somewhere. I’ll let you know what happens.