As I sat down before my HP to pen this report I looked out of the window of the fishcamp to see virtually every living thing dancing the boogie to a 44 MPH wind, ushered in during the early morning hours by heavy rains! Not only can I see the wind, I can hear it roaring! For the better part of a month, now, there has been no recovery period between cold fronts. Normally, we're already pretty much done with them by this time, anyway. But, when we do get late season cold fronts they are typically followed by a couple of days of cold north wind and no bite, then an easterly wind for a day or two, when fishing improves, and then the south and west winds that usher in the next front and a day of great fishing. We've had a chain of fronts where the wind is still blowing out of the north bringing cold air and high pressure when the next front arrives! Seems very bizarre to me, and it's wrecking our fishing and our business. And, here we are with several days of record cold temps in south Florida.

Our week began with two rainy days on Monday and Tuesday, followed by a day of high winds on Wednesday. I moved my trip with Paul Davey to Thursday, which was forecasted to be a decent day with a slight chance of showers, canceled my Friday trip with my friend Gerard Ripo and friends on a forecast of 25 MPH winds and bitter cold, and tried to cancel my trip with Fraser Dougall on Saturday, our coldest day of the winter thus far, knowing it would me miserable on the water, windy, and that the fish wouldn't eat. But, Fraser wouldn't hear of it. So, it was a two day work week.

I made the trip up the river and across Miserable Mile Thursday morning as dawn was breaking. Finally, it was supposed to be a decent weather day. I was excited about seeing Paul Davey, again. And, meeting his twelve year old daughter, Anne. Dave and I first fished together last year, along with his wife Lisa, and had a blast. I was hoping we could make it another fun day for he and Anne. I arrived at the Waterfront Restaurant to pick them up at 6:30, as it was getting light.

We had an extremely low winter tide of -0.7 ft. at around 7:30, so the challenge would be to find a place to fish that offered a reasonable prospect of catching something. With the warmth knocked out of the water by previous fronts I knew it would be near impossible to find a snook that would eat, but also that the rest would not be very willing, either. I was armed with plenty of lures and a well full of hand-picked shrimp, and had just the spot.

My expectations were low given the conditions, and I warned Dave that Anne would predictably catch most of the fish, if any were caught. I was a bit puzzled by all the cloud cover, as it looked as if it would rain any minute. But, the chances of rain were minimal according to the weather soothsayers and sages. When we got to our spot which was protected by mangroves, there was no wind, and the no-seeums were quick to announce that dinner was, well......on us! I quickly sprayed everyone's exposed parts, and thank God it seemed to do the trick. Now, we could get down to fishing.

Suddenly, we heard the excited chirping of an osprey close by, sounding as if he was talking to us. I answered him, and he told me HE was the first one to catch a fish. He was sitting on a limb dismantling a good sized ladyfish when we spotted him.

Predictably, Anne struck first blood, with her first snook. It was not a big one, but one more than I expected to see. Then she struck second, third, and maybe fourth blood with more snook. Dave was getting behind. But, Anne's rod quickly cooled as Dave began catching speckled trout after trout. And, they were nice fish. Almost like we're accustomed to seeing so many of during the winter and early spring, but which have been conspicuously absent this year because of the red tide kill. Boy, I was happy to see those trout, and so was Dave. Dave had built a substantial lead on young Anne, and we were teasing her about it by now. She finally got in on the act and caught some trout, too. We kept 7 nice, fat trout, but later released all but one big one that was gut-hooked, and didn't make it.

As the bite tapered off about mid-morning, the wind was building and so were the clouds. Rain looked imminent. We headed to another spot that I often use on winter days when the glamour species don't want to bite, just to produce action. It's trout action, and when on, if a fish every cast. I reasoned that if we caught trout at that first spot, perhaps there were finally the small trout in this spot. And, I was right.

The fish were there, and we caught them on nearly every cast after Dave and Anne got the hang of going really slow. We were having fun just catching when it began to drizzle on us. Well, I don't mind cold, and I don't mind wet, but cold AND wet are a bad combination. It sprinkled, and stopped, sprinkled and stopped. But, finally began to drizzle in earnest, and we decided it was time to go home, having had a pretty good day.

Back at the Waterfront we had a great lunch together, and I was glad to see that they were really busy. Things have been slow all over. It was a great ending to a winter fishing trip, but a nasty ride back to the ramp. Dave and I are scheduled to fish again this coming Wednesday with a different daughter. I hope the weather cooperates!

After watching it blow all day Friday as I worked in the office and ran some errands, I was glad I had canceled the trip in favor of another day. Friday night was the coldest of the season. I had tried to talk my friend Fraser Dougall out of fishing, but it was his only shot at getting on the water with his son Scott, with whom he hadn't fished in a long time. Fraser still wanted to go, knowing full well there would not likely be much catching going on. For him, it was about being on the water with his son.

And, you know! That's one of the things that I like about Fraser. He's as nice a fellow as you'll ever meet, and he is also very easy going. He's also gleaned from a lifetime of fishing the knowledge that it's not all about catching. Fishing is about being on the water, enjoying nature, spending quality time with friends and loved ones. Catching is the icing on top of what is already a very tasty cake!

I met Fraser and Scott, who was over from L.A. at 7:30. It was almost eerie arriving at the already parking deficient ramp on a Saturday morning that late, and being one of only two people there! The other was Capt. Steve Waugh. We laughed at each other as I approached after launching the Talon, and Steve joked that he'd even offered to pay his customer not to fish, but that he wouldn't hear of it. By the time we left the dock only one other guide, Kelly Kaminski, had shown up. I had decided to rig a couple of outfits with circle hooks before leaving the dock, knowing full well that by the time we got to our first stop my hands and fingers would be dysfunctional and totally out of my control. And, I was right. By the time we arrive, they were numb.

Fraser and Scott fished hard, using live shrimp and jigs, and all we could manage was to donate the live shrimp to small bait stealers like pinfish, small snapper and sheephead. We never got a serious bite from anything else. The fish were there, but lockjaw prevailed! We gave it until the tide turned around and began coming in. It would not have been wise to leave before doing so, and I hoped that the fresh incoming might allow a short bite. But, it was not to be, and we finally moved on.

We turned our attention to open potholes that are my staple for winter action. I knew full well though that if we hadn't been able to catch at the first spot, it was highly unlikely we'd catch anywhere else. And, I didn't think the water would warm sufficiently while we were out there to allow a bite to happen.

The first three potholes, which are normally full of trout, were duds. The fish weren't eating. At the fourth hole nothing was happening when Fraser made a cast that landed almost right in front of the boat on the edge of the pothole, and drew teasing from Scott and me. But, Fraser taught us a lesson when his bait was quickly consumed by a beautiful speckled trout. We took pictures and let her go. It was the only one that would bite, and Fraser had hit it on the head to get it to do so.

We decided we'd try to find some hungry redfish, just to do something a bit different. I fully expected the same kind of greeting we'd been getting all morning long, but it was worth a try, and the reds are always there. It was more of the same, though. Not a nibble on a spoon, jig, or shrimp. Again, we moved on.

We were into the afternoon, now. And, we only had about an hour of moving water left. Once the tide stopped, what had been lockjaw would turn into zippered lips. I headed for Long Cut, which will often give up trout when they won't bite anyplace else. Because of where it's at, and the composition of the bottom, I believe the water may be just enough warmer there to allow a bite on those cold winter days. There were plenty of boats there, which is why I don't like going there, but they appeared to all be fishing for sheephead. We would work around them.

We worked the shoreline with jigs, notably the smaller Bass Assassins. Right from the start we were getting bumps. As we moved along we even got several fish to rise to our lures where we could see them, but they didn't take well enough to become hooked. Finally, we hit a spot which gave up 6 or 7 nice trout and a ladyfish. At that point the boys remembered they had to be home around five because they had company coming. We called it a day and headed home. Fraser and Scott had thoroughly enjoyed the day, as had I.

So, now here I sit wrapping up this fishing report. I just got off the phone with Andy Mount, my customer for tomorrow. It's more of the same weather tomorrow, and it's going to be cold. I laid out how I see the day going, and Andy Still wants to go. He, too, knows fishing is not always about catching. Thank goodness for great customers.

I've got a 6 day week on tap, including 3 days with John Hitt. John is really anxious to get some fishing in, and is fully recovered from his heart attack. Many of you have asked about John, and he seems to have his own fan club here on the BarHopp'R portal. Pretty cool. I hope the weather lets us get those days in, but I have my doubts.

Be sure to check out www.BestFishingBooks.com, Books and gifts for fishermen from my friend Jim Dicken!

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