That front I mentioned last week showed up on our doorstep on Sunday. Although it was a dry front, it brought lots of wind, and record cold temperatures. It didn't help the fishing for most of the week, either.

The work week began with me working a rare Sunday. Rod and Judy Heflin were over from Miami with Judy's 75 year old dad, Ken. Rod had signed my guestbook earlier this year, and I just didn't have the heart to turn him away. That big front had actually already passed through, but the worst of the winds were not yet upon us. We were looking at north wind of 10 to 15 knots, and a rising barometer. The forecast for the day was horrible; 20 to 25 knot winds by afternoon. Our tide was still early, and I wanted to get out there as quickly as possible. I still had some steaked ladyfish left over from my trip with Kevin Bressman, and elected to skip catching fresh ladyfish, and instead, catch shiners and pinfish. I figured it couldn't hurt to have a little bit of everything on board with the front on us. So, we headed straight to Chino Island for bait, and had the well full in three throws.

Out on the flats, things were not easy. I did get a bite going, but not a good one, and of course, as first-timers, the Heflins had their share of missed hits. They did manage to put 4 or 5 nice reds into the boat, and lovely Judy got her very first snook. It was a nice one, too. We had a great time with lots of laughs. We finished the day with great food and conversation at the Waterfront. The forecasted high winds spared us.

But, by 1 AM Monday morning, the sound of tree limbs beating against the side of the fish camp woke me from a deep sleep. Damn! It was howling! The wind kept waking me through the rest of the night. My trip for Monday was with my good friend and BarHopp'R regular, Bob McGuire, of Line Lexington, Pennsylvania. Bob had long talked of getting his 75 year old dad, Bob McGuire Sr., down here for a fishing trip. Bob was concerned that he may not have many more opportunities to fish with his dad, and was really looking forward to this trip. Dad doesn't like to travel, so getting this trip to happen took some doing. I was afraid that the near gale force winds, rough waters, and falling temperatures would force Bob to cancel.

I was up early, readied the boat and gear, and was at the ramp early. I couldn't believe it was blowing so hard in early October. This was weather typical of the heart of winter. I left the boat on the trailer, loaded and ready to launch, figuring that Bob Sr. would elect to stay high and dry. But, when Bob and Bob pulled into the ramp, they were surprised to see the boat still on the trailer. I didn't have any alternative days, and neither did the boys, so we were going fishing!

I knew that trying to negotiate the Sound, or catch bait would be murder. I also understood that this trip was for Pop. I suggested to Bob that we just try to keep something pulling on the end of his line, if that was even possible in these conditions, figuring that Pop wouldn't care as long as he was catching something. Bob quickly agreed. I knew that there were plenty of big jack crevalle and ladyfish up the river, as well as trout and catfish. I was pretty sure we could catch some of those, so up the river we went; slowly into that terrible wind and a hard, sharp chop.

In 25 knot plus winds, it didn't take long to make a drift. We must have been drifting at 15 knots! But, each drift was very productive. For the most part, I just tried to stay with the birds. The turns and gulls would gather as if from nowhere when the fish began pushing baitfish to the surface. We couldn't see the baitfish, but the birds could. We would get on the upwind side of them and drift through, catching as we went. The birds would disappear almost as quickly and mysteriously as they had appeared; into nowhere. Then, almost magically, they would appear a short distance away as the fish drove the bait to the top again. Bob Sr. was having a big time. So was Bob Jr. But, I think I was having the best time watching the two of them. At times we had swells that were 3 to 4 feet to negotiate from the side. But the big cat is much more stable than a vee hull boat, and even Bob Sr. found it possible to fish while leaning against, and sometimes clinging onto the polling platform.

By around eleven o'clock we were growing weary of fighting the conditions, and had decided to head to the Waterfront for hot chocolate, coffee, and an early lunch. I knew we could get there running mostly along the lee shore, without getting beaten too badly. Before we got a quarter mile, I saw more birds working, and knew from where they were they had to be working jacks. We decided to stop one more time, and catch a few. Bob Sr. quickly hooked a monster of a jack that gave him fits. After a protracted battle, and lots of talking to that fish, he brought a jack of probably 10 pounds to boatside. He was thrilled with that fish, and talked about it for the rest of the trip. We once again headed toward the Waterfront with 30 plus ladyfish, 20 plus jacks, and a big bull ray under our belts. The folks at the Waterfront were shocked to see us arrive via the water.

Over lunch we all decided that we were happy with our decision to fight the weather. We had made a great day out of a real stinker. The forecast was for several days of more of the same, and I knew that some of the week's trips were in jeopardy.

The first casualty was the trip for Tuesday with my old friend Tom Ross, of Tampa. We had scheduled two trips, the one Tuesday as a boys day out for just Tom and me, and a trip the following week to take the family shelling. I had prodded Tom into bringing the Van Staal reel his dad had given him, and challenged him to a fishing duel against my Shimano Stellas. I knew Tom would go home wanting a Stella, but he called me Monday night and canceled. He wasn't up for fighting that much wind and cold. I couldn't blame him, and knew we'd play hell trying to catch any redfish or snook in that kind of weather. In retrospect, though, I'm betting Tom wishes we had fished!

By Wednesday morning, the winds were down to a gentle 20 knots, gusting higher! Still pretty miserable. Bob and Peggy Smollen, of Cape Coral, had decided to wait until that morning to make the call. They have lived in the area for about a year, but have had little success catching fish. This trip would be instructional as much as anything, and I reasoned that we might as well go and make the best of it. They could still learn the hows and wheres, even if the fish didn't want to cooperate. We went for it!

My friend Capt. John Shearer was also fishing. We decided we'd use a little teamwork to get bait in the boats. John was going to catch shiners, while we went up the river for ladyfish. We had plenty of ladyfish action, and put 6 into the livewell. It turned out that John had trouble finding bait. I tried calling him once we were full on ladyfish, but his phone wasn't on. So, we headed up to Chino to catch our own bait. Although there were plenty of pinfish, we soon found that the weather had pushed all the shiners out, and we didn't catch the first one. John finally called and said that he'd been all over, and finally found bait up on the causeway flats. We met John at the first set of power lines and exchanged some ladyfish for shiners.

We were ready to first do some snook fishing on the bottom part of the incoming tide. I headed to a great spot I hadn't fished since last spring. The snook were there, and out of about a dozen hits or more, Bob and Peggy boated a good half dozen. The hard wind at their backs, and current rushing their baits back at them, made the fishing challenging to say the least, but they did well. We left the snook biting to chase redfish, once the tide level was right.

As we rounded the backside of Chino Island, we ran into my cousin Terry Middleton, who appeared to be headed to the same area as we were to fish the reds. Once we were both anchored, Terry chummed hard with shiners. We did a little chumming with ladyfish. Nothing! We both moved up a couple of times, still without a hit. I elected to try a different area, and left Terry and his party still chumming. From the time I got anchored and put the first baits out, we had redfish action. Again, the fishing was very tough for the Smollens in such wind, with so much line out, but they managed to boat 7 of the 12 reds they had on the line.

We headed to the Waterfront for lunch and a reprieve from the wind once the bite quit at the top of the tide. Bob and Peggy were a lot of fun, and they were glad they had decided to make the trip in spite of the big wind. So was I. Back at the docks, one of the fisheries folks was quick to tell me that we had brought in more fish than anyone else that day.

Not much had changed by Thursday morning. Oh, it was supposed to warm into the low 80's, but it was still blowing at 20 knots right out of the northeast. The big high pressure had apparently decided to toss anchor right on top of us. This was the fifth day in a row of north winds. But, Dr. Dave Kerschner, his drop-dead gorgeous wife Ann, and fifteen year old son, Joe were at the ramp with bells on at seven o'clock. This weather was beautiful compared to the cold and snow they had left behind in Ohio.

We headed up the wind and up the river to catch ladyfish. We found plenty, but Ann and Joe had a tough time trying to land one. Dave quickly mastered the technique of reeling like hell through a straight rod, then jerking them into the boat like a commercial tuna fisherman does with his Calcutta pole. Dave quickly had 6 big ladyfish in the well. He also hooked and landed a beautiful 8 pound jack crevalle, that gave him a terrific light tackle battle, and a big 20 inch speckled trout.

From the river we headed to Picnic Island for shiners and pinfish. Bait was plentiful, and we had a well full in no time. We were ready to go snook fishing for the first part of the tide.

It was a real chore trying to keep the boat in position with the wind coming from one direction and current from another, and keep up with my three anglers, but we managed. Ann got her first snook, Dave caught plenty, and Joe got the biggest at around 28 inches. In all, they landed a good 20 snook, and missed half that many, at least.

We finished the day trying to catch redfish on the flats. Not long after setting up on the first spot, the wind ripped my anchor loose, and we had to move and start over. I was able to get a bite going, but this part of the trip proved to be the real challenge for the Kerschners, as it nearly always does for everyone. We had 10 fish on, but they only managed to boat 3 reds to 24 inches. We got our Slam! Of course, we capped the day off with a great Waterfront lunch. Back at the docks, a Korean man came over and inquired about my rates saying that he'd been there watching all morning, and that we had brought in more fish than anyone else he'd seen. I did see some other nice fish come in, but that's always nice to hear.

Once I pulled the BarHopp'R from the water and parked to unload her, I found that I had picked up a couple hundred yards of someone's fishing line in my prop. It was trailing way down the parking lot behind the boat. It appeared to be 100 pound test or more, and I couldn't imagine who could be stupid enough to leave all that line laying out in the water. It was so wrapped up in my prop that it took me a good hour to get it unraveled enough so that I could get the prop off, and finish pulling it from around the shaft. By the time I was able to actually get the distance bush off, I realized that the line had also gotten into the seal and destroyed it. It was already five o'clock, and I knew right then there would be no fishing Friday.

I had no contact number for Ken Johnston, my Friday party, so I had no choice but to arrange for someone to take my place and meet him at the ramp at 8:30. Capt. Kevin Holley, who always does a great job, was able to oblige, and has since told me that they did very well. I haven't heard from Ken, yet.

So, at Kevin's urging, I took the boat down to Ft. Myers Marine Friday morning, where Kerry, the service writer, was very helpful, and had me turned around in about three hours. The bill was a bit more than I expected for a seal replacement, but they had gotten me in and out quickly, which was the most important thing. Everything was once again ready for action on Monday morning. This was to be my fishing duel with my bud, Tom Ross.

So, that's the way it went. I managed to get in four of six scheduled days. The week must have set some sort of record for continuous days of wind in October, and we in fact did blow away some long standing low temperature records. I hope that will be the last we see of winter, until winter!