Tales from the Tupperware Navy

This month’s column is about survival tips for winter fishing, apologies, and a fishing story.  I know in some of my articles, I have dealt with recreational sites, but let’s be honest, I’m primarily a fishing fanatic, though I do enjoy a good paddling on occasion.  These last cold snaps killed off some of our snook population, but still offer some great fishing opportunities!

So, if you were as crazy as we were to go out in the cold snaps, here are some tips to beat the cold.  First, like Mom always told you, “dress warm”. Layers of clothes work best. Waders, hip boots or such help keep your feet from freezing, and a trick from Uncle Lew, put a heat pack in the bottom of each boot and you’ll be good for several hours.  Be sure to let some air in on occasion to allow the pack to work properly. Another great idea, because for me, it’s always my hands that suffer, is to use Playtex gloves or something similar, under your regular gloves, and put Ben-Gay on your hands. Don’t laugh. It works!

As to apologies, on a past trip out, we three hardy souls, hit the frigid water, in the midst of the cold snap.  My friend, Brian, had no waders, so I brought him a pair of my old ones to use.  I swear to God, I didn’t know they had a hole in them.  He suffered the first couple of hours before he had to head in. They say they can save most of the toes, so I can’t understand why he’s complaining.  No, he’s fine – once he got feeling back in his feet.  Anybody want to buy some used waders?  (Sold, As Is.)

Anyway, on a recent trip to Hernando Counties pristine shores, my buddy Lew, and I set out to do a little spring fishing. This area of the coast is loaded with springs fed by the Floridian aquifer. Weekie Wachee and the Chaz to mention a couple.  As the gulf temp drops, the fish head for warmer waters and can stack up. We put in at one of my favorite spots and worked our way across the bay and picked up some nice trout on a mixed bag of lures, top water on a Zara spook Jr., in bone, mirro-dine, little john in glow and Lew’s favorite, Gulp glow shrimp. All worked well.  Paddling back to the spring, I couldn’t get the old Jeannie C. Reilly song Harper valley PTA out of my head, it had played the day before on a country channel and I was wishing it would go away. As we set up at the spring the bite was a little slow, and I somehow let loose with a verse from Harper Valley, and wham, I hooked into a nice black drum. I’m thinking I’m on to something; another verse, another blackie. Lew is shaking his head and refusing to join me in a chorus (his loss).  Seven drum later he finally caught his first fish. I accused him of humming it but he won’t admit it.
We were primarily fishing straight down the spring with live shrimp. At about 25 to 30-foot depth, this is kind of neat, considering that a few feet to either side you could get out and walk. The sides were producing some nice reds, one over thirty, a twenty-nine and two nice keepers.  As I hummed one more verse of Harper Valley, I landed a dogfish, a rod and reel combo that someone had recently lost, at which point Lew started muttering something about karma to which I replied, “The day my momma socked it to the Harper Valley PTA”.
If you’ve made it this far, I ‘d like to say “Hi” to everyone in the Big Bend area as well as all my friends here on the Nature Coast.

Tight lines Y’all, Bruce