Tales from The Tupperware Navy By: Bruce Butler

Welcome back Yak fans. This month is one of my favorite times for fishing. Yep, winter time fishing is for those hardy souls willing to venture out.

First, here are some rules of engagement. Rule number one. Dress appropriately with waders, layers of clothes, and chemical heat pads are a must. Rule number two. Look at the tide charts and check the weather carefully. A 20 mile an hour gust can make even protected spots tough to fish. And, mudding through a negative tide is no fun, even if you’re not dragging a loaded kayak. Rule number three. Plan your trip. Cold temps can empty the flats while the creeks and springs load up–plan your trip accordingly. For those of you who haven’t yet developed your own water spots, virtually all the creeks, rivers and outflows on the Nature Coast are spring-fed, and warm water outflow equals a fish happy spot.

On my last trip, I headed out with some friends. The wind was out of the South with a negative 7 tide. The flats were empty–not even a bird moving—so, I headed back to one of my favorite holes. As I get setup, (not an easy task with the gusty weather) I finally got situated with about 80 feet of water under me and a graph that was lit up at three different levels. Game on!

The first trick was to get the bait below the cloud of mangrove snapper that were at the higher levels but, once you got down around 25 feet or so, the black drum were chewing. I landed my first black drum and, as I tied my stringer on the side of the yak, he gave a flip and off went my stringer and a 20-inch black drum down the bottom of an 80-foot hole. But wait, it gets worse. Less than 10 minutes later, Lou’s son was doing the same thing and splash there went Sampo Stringer number two down the crack. Muttering a few obscenities, I pulled out my back up and we continued to fish.

About an hour later, the wind shifted and was moving me off the spot. As I drifted back toward the shallow side, I got a bite. Paddling with one hand to get away from the rocks and fighting the fish with the other made for an interesting minute or two. As I got control and was able to focus on the fish, I got it shallow enough to see something–yep, my stringer. I’d hooked one of the open nylon clips. But, every time I would reel, it would stretch open and begin to slip off the open loop. Well, finesse may not be my middle name, but I had my game on that day. After about three careful tries, I recaptured my stringer and my fish.

What a day! I told them I should be able to count that fish twice in the daily totals. I mean, I did catch him two times–right?  They said no. Oh well, I got my stringer back.

‘Till next time, Bruce.