Although we started this week under the threat of bad weather and another tropical storm, the first half of the week was fantastic for me and my customers. I just can't imagine how fishing could have been any better. But, the second half of the week began a challenge from Murphy's Laws that ran all the way through to the end of the next week. Read on.

First up for the week was Mike Schwartz, one of my favorite customers, and best anglers down for some R & R from Englewood, Colorado. Mike brought along his dad, Ted Schwartz, a prominent litigation attorney from St. Louis. They've been fishing together since Mike was a small boy. Mike loves to fish. He's a physical fisherman, and has great moves on the deck. He instinctively knows what to do to control his fish. I'm always anxious to provide him with good action. So far, I think I've succeeded. I had Mike scheduled to fish with my great friend Capt. Mark Bess on Tuesday, since I was already booked when Mike called. I wanted to make sure Mark would have his work cut out for him, too.

We had an east wind at 15, and we were under a 100% cloud cover. I decided to stop at Chino to see about bait, and we managed to get plenty. It wasn't long before we were anchored on a flat tossing chum. It didn't take long to get the action going, either. It only took Mike a fish or two to get back into the light line/long cast groove, but it Ted took a while. He hadn't done much fishing in the last few years, and I think this type of fishing was pretty new to him. Ted missed a lot of fish. Even so, we boated 25 to 30 redfish to 9 pounds at best estimate, plus 3 snook to 28 inches, and a ladyfish. If Ted had gotten into the grove quicker, we probably would have caught 40 or more reds. No matter! It was a great day, with great guys and great action.

We finished the morning off at the Waterfront with a great lunch and cold brews. Mike and I agreed that we'd mess with Mark a bit, and tell him we'd caught 70 redfish. The fun part of that is that Mark and I have done that many redfish before, and he certainly knows it's doable. It was great to see Mike again, and I was glad that Mark had a day for him on Tuesday.

Tuesday morning I met Chip Willimon and his dad, Charles, down from Simpsonville, South Carolina. They were down for a week of fishing, and had a nice Maverick in tow. The plan was to show them some of the ropes on our outing, and I invited Chip and Charles to run with me for the rest of the week if they wanted to. Mark was fishing Mike and Ted Schwartz, and we headed to Fosters Point together. I managed to get loaded up a little quicker than Mark, and was off to get started on the redfish.

Once on the flats, it didn't take long to get the action going. Before long, Mark showed up and took up position several hundred yards away. I knew he was catching, as he stayed there quite a while before coming to join me and the Willimons. Meanwhile, my good friend and customer Lew Joseph showed up in the Lady G. I waved him on in to the flat next to us. Later, I noticed a blue Aqua Force poling in from behind us with two aboard. He finally took up residency about 100 yards off my port side. Although he was fishing, he seemed to be mostly watching the catching exhibition that Mark and I were putting on.

Chip and Charles took a while to get into the rhythm of our tight line, on the drag hookset, and I guess they thought my coaching was a bit stern at first, but once they followed my lead and got the hookset down, they must have boated somewhere between 30 and 40 redfish up to 10 pounds. It was just too busy to keep good count. They also lost a snook, caught a trout, and a ladyfish. Mark and the Schwartzs were doing as well, it appeared. The mysterious thing was that Lew and his crew, who was on my right side, never caught a redfish. Lew is certainly a good fisherman, and a BarHopp'R graduate, and knows how to catch those reds. But on this day, they just weren't eating for him. I really felt bad for him, because I knew the fish were all over the flat.

Once Chip, Charles, and I had had enough and were ready for lunch, I called over to the man and woman in the Aqua Force and asked him if he wanted my left over bait. He was thrilled at the prospect at having my bait, and poled over to us. We introduced each other around, and found that he was Andy Anderson, and was also down from South Carolina with his new bride. They had been fishing hard, but catching nothing. Andy's first comment was that the Willimons should have sore arms after all the fish he'd watched them catch. He was just amazed. We transferred our bait, and I gave him a chance to look over my rigs and gave him a couple of pointers and wished him luck. We were off to the Waterfront to celebrate a great morning of fishing. We had a great time discussing the days events and getting to know each other. It's amazing, but when the action is hot like it was that morning, there's no time for anything but work. Back at the ramp, I gave Chip and Charles my spare bait bat, enough Purina chum to last them a few days, and my spare bait tray. I figured they should be in pretty good shape to go out and fish the rest of the week. The Willimons were fine fellas, and I was hopeful that they had learned enough to go out and bang 'em the rest of the week.

Wednesday morning I met my friend George McRobbie, of Perth, Scotland. George and I had had a great trip about this same time last year, catching lots of snook and trout early, and finishing with redfish. George is the perfect picture of a big, hardy, tough Scotsman, and loves to fish. I was hopeful that we could take up the redfish action right where we'd left it the day before. Chip and Charles launched with us, and we made the ride through the darkness to Foster's Point together. George and I were quickly loaded with beautiful bait, and I checked to make sure that the Willimons knew where to find us before leaving.

We had almost immediate action once we were staked out on the flats. George had brought along a 9.5 ft. spinning rod he'd built from a flyrod blank. It wasn't really suitable for our kind of fishing, but George had some fun with it. Those redfish put a hell of a bend in that rod. George finds our 7.5 ft. (short) rods awkward to handle!! Not long after we got the fish going, I saw Andy coming in with his wife. I waived him in along side to my port. George and I were catching redfish as fast as we could. Andy's wife seemed to be getting a kick out of the fact that we were catching so many fish again, and Andy wasn't. But, Andy eventually struck paydirt, and caught three big reds. Now, I want to tell you that he was one happy camper, and proved what I have so often said; It only takes one good redfish to make your day. He was absolutely thrilled with those fish!!

Not long before we were ready to head to the Waterfront for a victory lunch, Don W*&!@#l (can't pronounce his name) came in to join us in his new Century. He was getting there at the end of the tide, and the action was about over. I gave Andy my left over bait, and darned if he didn't try to give me a hundred dollar bill for helping him. I didn't help him expecting anything in return, and settled for a ten spot. I invited Andy and his bride to follow us to the Waterfront. Don said he'd join us, and we stopped and hailed the Willimons to come, too. That lunch turned into one of my most memorable visits to the Waterfront. We had the whole bunch of us there, eight in all, sitting around like the knights of the round table. It was great to be there with all of these mutual friends. We had a great time, and I felt very lucky to be a professional guide and have the privilege to share an experience like that.

The glow of that Wednesday would soon be lost to the frustration of mechanical failure Thursday morning. I left the house in anticipation of another great day with Dick and Mo Englebart, who I'd been looking forward to fishing with for a long time. A few miles down the road my clock, radio, and a couple of instruments flashed on and off. Hey, that's UFO stuff, and I started looking around for something strange. Soon, they went off for good, and I couldn't imagine what could cause my radio and clock to quit. Well, it wasn't long before I realized that my headlights were fast leaving me. Damn! I had to get this boat to the ramp. That's all I wanted, even if I had to do it in total darkness. This was just the first of what would be many attacks of Murphy's Law over the next week!

I figured that either my battery had taken a dump, I'd broken my alternator belts, or the alternator had gone south, and it was most likely that the alternator had failed without me noticing the volt meter wasn't showing charge. Well, it doesn't take long for the headlights and trailer lights to pull down a battery. I nursed the van along feathering the throttle, because the battery was getting so low that it wouldn't fire the sparkplugs. I made it to within four miles of the ramp. I turned the boat lights on, called the Allstate Motor Club, called Capt. Mark, and flagged down a sheriff at the nearby Shell station. I was worried about someone running over my rig in the darkness, because I couldn't even run my flashers.

While waiting on the side of the road for the tow truck I saw Chip and Charles Willimon go by with their Maverick in tow. I didn't think they had noticed me, but they soon came back the other way to see if they could help. I asked them to please find my customers, the Englebarts and tell them of my misfortune, which they did. All Florida Towing showed up before Mark did, and grabbed van and boat and hauled me to Franklin's Auto Repair. As we rode, I found out that the driver, Sam, had just bought a new rebuilt Mercury outboard. I commented that I wished I'd met him earlier so that I could have sent him to my motor man, Craig Wildasin, of Outboard Motor Connection in Venice. Guess what! He had found Craig and bought a motor from him. So Sam and I talked boats and fishing until he had me delivered to Franklins. It wasn't long before Capt. Mark showed up and rescued me, and we spent most of the rest of the day screwing off together. Franklins got me taken care of quickly, and sure enough, the problem was a bad alternator.

Back home that afternoon, I had a message from the Elkharts. They wanted to fish with me on Friday, if possible. Problem was, Mark and I had a two boat trip scheduled with Jan Kirschner of Associated Network Solutions, Inc., out of Sarasota, and some of his customers. I wanted to fish with Dick and Mo if possible, so I set about trying to find someone to take my slot in the ANSI group with Mark. My first choice, Capt. Kevin Holley had just gotten his boat back on Thursday with a brand new engine fitted. He shuffled his schedule a little so he could do the trip for me, and everyone could fish. He said he'd probably be half hour late to the ramp in the morning.

I woke up Friday morning feeling like I'd swallowed a box of 1/0 hooks and been run over by a train. I had some kind of bug. I wasn't about to let it keep me from taking the Elkharts out for a second time, unless they didn't want to fish with a sick guide. So, Dick and Maureen and I left the dock at 6:30, leaving Mark waiting on Kevin. I wanted to go and get the bait started. We caught our bait, cleaned up the boat, and at eight o'clock there was still no Mark or Kevin. I feared the worse. I tried to page Mark. No answer. We headed on out to fish. Mother Nature had a surprise for us. The fish weren't interested. I did everything I could to get the fish I knew were there to eat, but they wouldn't.

At around 10:00 AM I saw Mark coming in from the north. As he got closer, I realized his boat looked like he was smuggling Haitians. When he came down off plane I though he was going to sink. I had never seen his Skinnywater sit so low in the water. Of course, I'd never seen his Skinnywater with five people on it, either. As Mark pulled along side, I told him of fish that wouldn't eat, and he told us his tale of woe. Kevin had finally made it to the docks at eight o'clock with an engine that was running hot. He couldn't do the trip. Our ANSI party of six was now a party of four, because two of the guys were a no show. Kevin headed for the repair shop, and Mark loaded four guys on his Skinnywater and took off.

Now, you must understand that although the 18 ft. Skinnywater is a fine fishing vessel, it just ain't built for more than two anglers and the Captain. It's not a barge like the BarHopp'R. Now, to complicate Mark's morning, he'd had a throttle cable failure. I have to tell you that if I was going to be stranded at sea with a broken boat, I'd want it to be with Mark. Mark is the master of making chicken salad out of chicken poop!! Pardon the English, but there's just no other way to say it. If there's a way to make something broken work, Mark will come up with it! Well, Mark had strung a budgie cord to his throttle linkage at the motor, then tied his pull start chord to the throttle lever, routed it through the cable hole, and was working the throttle via the rope back to the engine. Genius. I didn't even realize there was something wrong when he pulled in. I figured Mark deserved a medal and a big tip just for trying to pull this off. I hated to tell him the fish weren't eating.

After trying all the tricks I could come up with, I headed to the other side of the Sound, hoping to find some fish that would eat. I was amazed to see snook and redfish all over the place that I'd decided to fish. I mean this place was loaded with fish. The wind direction was such that it made it hard to set up to fish, but we managed to do it. Mo missed several hits before Dick finally got serious and caught a couple of big redfish. We had the fish going. But, Dick and Mo had a five hour ride to get home, and elected to forego a lunch at the Waterfront so that they could get going. God, I hated to leave that spot, because I knew that with some chumming I could really get those fish going. I tried to page Mark to call him in, but he didn't answer. Dick and Mo assured me they'd had fun in spite of the tough time, but it killed me to leave those fish eating.

After saying our good-byes, I took BarHopp'R II to Waddington's Vintage Marine for a weekend repair of a deck separation. Mark had already come off the water and taken his Skinnywater to Smith Marine for cable replacement and other needed work.

I didn't realize that as the week ended it was just the start of more than a week of mechanical failures, poor fishing, scheduling problems, and bad weather. Murphy was just getting started!!