It was a week of great fun, and great frustration; frustration with boat problems and fish that refused to eat. All in all, though, it was a good week.

Monday and Tuesday it was Alan and Carmen Hodgson and their friends Tom and Nancy Callinan, and Joe and Denise. We had fished several day in late July last year, with my cousin Capt. Sean Middleton as the second boat. We fished the guys against the gals, and I was fortunate enough to get the gals, and we had a blast. Of course the gals outfished the guys handily on both days. The girls decided last year they wanted to keep things as they were for this year, and that was great with me.

Monday and Tuesday fishing were as different as night and day. Bait became tough this week, with nothing but tiny shiners and small pinfish everywhere we went. We all headed out to the Stickbeach, and to my surprise there were only a couple other boats all morning. We had a pretty good bite, but the best part was that there were some real quality fish in an eating mood. Denise, who was not part of the all girl crew last year, struck first blood with a beautiful snook of 8 pounds. There were lots of nice snook in the 5 pound range, as well as 4 or 5 big mackerel, a couple of very nice mangrove snappers, and half dozen nice speckled trout, nearly all of which Nancy caught. All the girls caught plenty of snook, and it looked as if the guys would take big fish of the day with a beautiful 34 inch snook. But, late in the morning Carmen hooked what I knew would be a beast on one of the little Stella 2500 rigs. It took off for parts unknown. It had hit a large pinfish laying off the back of the boat, parallel to the beach, and had made the fatal mistake of turning toward the Gulf, instead of the sticks. I knew Carmen had a chance to land the big fish, but we didn't realize how big she was. As Carmen followed my coaching and brought the big snook closer to the boat, we knew we had big fish in the bag if we could just land it. And we did; all 35.5 inches and 13 pounds of her.

The girls had defended their honor against the men, once again. They had handily caught the most fish, most species, and largest fish. We'd all had a ball, and had more fun talking trash over a great lunch at the Waterfront Restaurant.

On the last leg of the journey home I went to switch fuel tanks on the Talon, and the cable handle pulled out in my hand! Fortunately, it happened as the transition to the full tank was complete. While cleaning fish at the Sugar Shack, my long time friend Danny Fowler, now of Fowler Marine, showed up, and I showed him the problem. He said he would try to order a cable, but we later found out that it was something I would have to get from Talon.

No problem, I thought. I would simply use the Maverick for the Tuesday trip. But, once back at my boatyard, I found the batteries once again dead. Oddly enough, I couldn't get my charger to show charge when hooked up, and wasn't sure whether the power pedestal was down, or the charger was broken. I messed around with it for more than an hour until a storm blew in, and finally borrowed another charger from my friend Capt. Rey Rodriguez. Once back at the house, it indicated it was charging just fine, and I thought the problem had been my charger.

Next morning the charger showed fully charged batteries, but my gut told me differently. I just wasn't convinced it was all that easy. I got the Maverick fueled, loaded, and ready for our early departure at 6 AM, and when I reached the Sugar Shack to get ice, I decided to hook up water to the Yamaha and make sure I really had plenty of battery before I put the boat into the water. I really wasn't all that surprised when I turned the key and heard a faint click from the engine. That was it. There was no power. It was 5:25, dark, and there was no time or light for troubleshooting.

I blasted back to the boatyard and grabbed the Talon, transferred everything from the Maverick, and was on my way. I didn't think I could possibly get to the ramp before the girls, but somehow I did. I knew that I would have to throttle back and run easy to conserve gas, or make sure I got to a fuel dock on the water if I got too low.

Tuesday couldn't have been more different! Bait was double-tough, and so was the fishing. Sean and the boys decided to chase tarpon first. The girls and I decided to go for more sure snook/trout/mackerel action on the beach. Problem was, the fish on the beach were shut down. I think we saw two, maybe three fish caught, and there were boats from one end of the sticks to the other. You could practically walk from boat to boat. We probably stay longer than we should have, but I know everyone was convinced the fish would turn on at any moment. They didn't.

We talked to the guys, and they had abandoned their pursuit of tarpon early on, as they had seen no fish. They had switched their attention to reds and snook, and when we first talked to them they had caught half dozen small reds. We were fishless at that point. We made the decision to go inside and try for redfish on the flats. We had wasted a lot of time on the beach, and catching up to the boys on this day would be tough, if not impossible.

Our first fish was a 20 red. Patience gave us a nice 26 inch red at the same spot, but that was it. At the second stop very nearly at the end of our endurance of heat and limit of patience, Nancy hooked a beautiful bull red and landed it just as the boys were approaching us on their trolling motor. The big red was 32 inches and 12 pounds, and that and the 26 inch red gave us biggest fish of the day, but the boys finished with 7 or 8 small reds.

Once again we recounted the fun and frustrations of such a different day at the Waterfront. By the time we arrived back at the ramp, I realized I had save about a quarter tank of fuel by throttling back and running at 4,000 RPM, or less. At the Sugar Shack Alan informed me that he and Carmen would not be able to fish on Wednesday as planned, as some kind of fire had erupted at work that he had to spend the day putting out. I was, of course, disappointed that we wouldn't get a chance to fish together as we had last year on the last day, but knew full well I could use the day to deal with two broken boats.

So, Wednesday morning the Maverick was first to go to see Danny. It only took Danny about five minutes to find that the main power cable off the battery was severed, and hanging by a couple of copper strands. Looked to me almost as if it had been deliberately cut. Hum! I left it with Danny, as I wanted him to install a battery on/off switch, and give her a good checkup. That afternoon, I brought the Talon in for some minor repairs/modifications, and took the Maverick home. Danny replaced the whole fuel switch apparatus on the Talon with a ball-cock assembly mounted on the water separator filter where it was easy to get at. I also had him hardwire the trolling motor and eliminate the very troublesome plug that seems to need constant attention, and install a circuit breaker that also doubles as a switch.

Danny Fowler is one of the nicest, most conscientious young men I have ever met. He was the main rigger at Smith Marine for a number of years, and kept the old BarHopp'R fleet on the water until Craig Smith managed to alienate many of his customers and employees. Danny went out on his own, thank goodness. He is very good at what he does. After all, he had a very good teacher in Craig Smith. If you live within driving distance of Ft. Myers, I highly recommend you give Danny at try, if you haven't already. He's a great guy, and does great work. You can reach him at 939-0300.

As tough as Tuesday had been, I couldn't imagine that Thursday would be even tougher for my old friend Dr. John Hitt. We let his dock at 6 AM, and stopped at Shell Island to see if we could catch a ladyfish or two. There weren't any fish, and shortly after beginning John had a monster tangle in his line, which wound up being broken off when his lure grabbed hold of something on the bottom.

We moved on to Picnic Island for bait, and the first thing that happened was the handle of the bucket I had just mixed a load of chum in detached itself, and the chum went all over the floor of the Coastline. It seemed to set the tone, and be a harbinger of things to come. We managed no large shiners. Everything was tiny. We didn't even catch any large, filletable pinfish.

For the rest of the day we went from place to place seeing no sign of life other than hardhead catfish. We caught 4. We couldn't get a redfish or a snook to eat. Finally, in a desperate attempt to put something in the boat we decided to try to catch trout. Even the trout weren't interested in eating. We only managed two; one keeper and one small. It was the worst day John and I ever had on the water, and very possibly the worst day I've had as a guide, at least in very many years. John is not only a great fishing partner, but understands that these things sometimes can't be avoided. Thank goodness for friends like John.

After Thursday escapade, I was dreading my trip with Bruce Heichelbeck, of Crestwood, Kentucky, and his friend Tony, who hail from London. I feared another day like Thursday. I told the guys at the ramp that morning how miserable the fishing had been for most of the week, but they were understanding, optimistic, and still ready to go.

We made stops at Picnic Island and Chino Island, and got the usual load of small pinfish and tiny shiners. We managed 3 large whitebaits! We were off to the first stop. We actually managed to catch 2 snook and a redfish there, and missed several hits. After a long spell with no activity, we moved on to the next stop, where we fished both live and cut pinfish. Much to my relief we managed 5 redfish there, including a couple of real nice fish. At the next stop we missed several good strikes, and managed to boat another red of around 20 inches. The last couple of stops netted us only 1 more redfish, for a total of 8 on the day.

I don't know when I've been so glad to see 8 redfish and a couple of snook! Bruce and Tony assured me they'd had a great time, and that a slow day on the water still beat a great day at the office. It was good to see Bruce, again. We last fished together over 3 years ago, and this was his first outing in the Talon. He and Tony were amazed at the ride and room, and what a great platform it is.

Well, I'm guessing that the snook have spawned on this full moon, and are rowed out. Seems that once the snook do that each summer, the fishing really goes sour for the rest of the summer. If our Blind Pass was open to boat traffic, it would be a simple matter to get to the fish and back to the Sound without investing such a large chunk of time and gasoline when there is no bite. Word is, next summer will be different as work to open the pass again is scheduled to begin in November.

If you want to be able to continue to fish Florida waters please follow this link, "Manatee Zones: How You Can Help" and please take the time to become involved, even if you don't live in Florida. Let the politicians know WHY you come to Florida on vacation!

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