The weather here is still the issue. This is the longest March on record, now going on 45 days of fronts and winds. I'm ready for summer and the calm, still mornings of intense snook fishing and projectile sweats.

My good friend Chic McSherry, who comes over with his family every year from Glasgow, Scottland, was first up on Monday. Chic is a very successful entrepreneur who heads up Prosys back home, and who lives to fish. He loves all types of fishing, and does a lot of traveling to pursue his passion. He is also a brilliant writer and spinner of fishing tales. Our main objective on this day was to take his two beautiful sons Jamie and Scott out for a day of trout fishing, and when they wearied, drop them back with mom and go snook fishing. I was surprised to see only Chic and Jamie at the ramp that morning. Scott was under the weather.

We had a very poor tide this day, and it wouldn't move until later in the day. I wasn't even sure I could get a descent trout bite going for Jamie. Seems the poor tides also affect the bait. We tried Picnic Island, Chino Island, and finally scored on the flats of Fosters Point. The wind certainly wasn't in our favor, as it was east/northeast at 15.

Once baited up, I headed for a series of potholes near Regla Island which are usually full of trout on the lower parts of the tide. We found our trout there, but it wasn't a wild bite. There were enough to keep Chic and I busy keeping Jamie entertained, and they were just the right size for him to handle, for the most part. Chic and I had as much fun as Jamie just watching him have fun. As always, Jamie, now seven, constantly reminded his dad that he had caught many more fish than his dad. He's a character. I'd guess the boys caught and released around two dozen trout, a ladyfish, and a few catfish.

We went to the Waterfront for an early lunch, planning to come back to the water once the tide was finally on the move. I was hopeful the snook would be ready to eat by that time, but it wasn't the case. Oh, they showed some passive interest, hitting and dropping the bait; what I call the pop and drop. I'm not sure why they do that sometimes, but I suspect that the hits are territorial, and not from hunger. The snook simply want to kill the bait and remove it from their territory. I've noticed that you rarely see this behavior from snook except during the warmer months, when they are getting into their spawning mode. At any rate, Chic only managed three fish to the boat, and a couple of snook lost to short releases. We were in a spot that was just full of snook, but they just didn't want to play.

It had been a fun day, nonetheless, and great to see Chic and Jamie again. Chic and I made plans to meet at the Seafood Center and Crab House on Thursday evening for dinner, where I would finally get to meet his wife Jenny, and see Scott.

Eric Deaver, of Hamilton, Virginia, was up for Tuesday. Since the tide was so poor in the AM hours, I decided we'd get started at noon, and hope to God we could find bait that late in the day. The wind was southeast at 15 when we hit the water. To our good fortune, my friend and fellow guide Capt. Steve Waugh was just finishing up his morning trip as I launched the BarHopp'R. He offered me his left over bait, thank God. Eric and I did make a couple of stops in an effort to add to what Steve had given us, and we would have been fishing with pinfish or artificials if Steve hadn't been so generous. Thanks, Steve!

We headed to one of my favorite spots in the north end of the Sound where I knew there were plenty of snook; nice snook. We worked a lot of the area, and every time I'd move up to another spot, I could see big snook pushing out of where we had just fished. They were in the lockjaw mode, and wouldn't even pop and drop the bait. I finally gave up on those fish, and moved to a different area. By the time we'd made our move the tide was getting up on the bushes and the fish in our new spot decided it was finally time to eat. Eric caught a dozen or so beautiful snook, with the biggest at 30 inches. The late bite seems to be a definite pattern lately.

A late cancellation gave me the day off, Wednesday. Thursday morning dawned beautiful. I couldn't believe my eyes, and certainly hadn't believed the forecast. We were looking at a calm day with light and variable winds. James Heston, of Sebring, Florida, had the good fortune to draw this lovely day. We headed straight out to the beach just up from the lighthouse to look for bait. It was literally flipping everywhere. I loaded the well on the first throw. Most of the bait was about the same size. I thought I'd throw again to see if we could cull out some bigger bait. We circled around and got up-breeze from a large pod of bait. I threw the net. Jim had to help me get it into the boat it was so full of bait. After picking through for the larger baits, we headed on up the beach in search of snook.

We found plenty of snook and big trout, mostly in one spot. There was an older fellow in an inboard boat named Wasabe also fishing along the beach. He wasn't equipped for this kind of fishing, and left his motor running the whole time like a tarpon boat in Boca Grande Pass. He'd fish for a few minutes, then move up a little. Fish a few minutes, then move up a little. I never saw him catch a fish, but I think he succeeded in putting the fish down. Before it was over I couldn't get a bite anywhere, and it was too early for the snook to quit. We headed on up the beach, noting there were big schools of threadfin herring everywhere.

As we rode along, I noticed what from the distance looked like a big school of bait, but the pushes were just too big. I told Jim I thought I'd spotted a school of Lil Tunny. We got baits ready and pulled right up to them. The baits were hit almost as soon as they hit the water. Bang! Bang! Broken lines. Jim hooked around a dozen of them on 8 and 12 pound test, every time except for twice with the same result; broken lines. I didn't realize it until later, but what I think was happening was the same thing that often happens with mackerel. When the fish hits, the bait usually winds up being forced up the line. While the hooked fish is being fought, one of the other fish from the huge school attacks the bait on the line, and of course, bites the line in two. He did keep one on long enough to get nearly to the bottom of the spool on one of the eight pound rigs, and we did get one to boatside on a 12 pound rig. Jim was pretty worn out after fighting with that one fish on 12. They are ferocious! We had a blast with them, and finally left them biting to run inside and look for more snook. We finished the morning with 26 snook to 29 inches, 7 trout up to 5 pounds, the Tunny of fun, and a jack crevalle. It had been a great day. It was time for the Waterfront and a good lunch.

In the early morning hours of Friday, the roar of torrential rain and flash of intense lightning jerked me from a deep sleep. Man, what a storm. Another front was passing through, but this one finally was bringing us some much needed rain, instead of just wind. By morning the severe weather had passed to our south, but Tom Lorentson, of Hopatcong, New Jersey, decided he'd take a rain check on this day. It was probably a good decision, as we did have more light rains throughout the day.

So, there you have it; proof that good weather will bring good fishing. We're not out of the woods yet, though, as they're already talking about the next front approaching.

Note: Those of you who have trips booked in the future, or who may want to book, should note my new phone numbers. Home/office is 941-415-7282, and the new cell phone number is 941-376-2214.