Well, the tropical system I mentioned at the close of last week's report turned out to be a non-event for us in southwest Florida. And, Rusty Holmes up at Carlisle Dodge finally got the deal on my new van approved, and it was BETTER than originally anticipated. He got me another $300 credit for my occupational license. Way to go, Rusty. I can't wait to get him out on the water. He lives to fish, and just emailed me that he bagged a 37 inch snook this week!

I met Jim Vaigl Sr., and his son Jim Jr., of Reston, Virginia, Monday morning not knowing just what to expect. We are in a time of transition. We headed out to Sanibel beach just up from the lighthouse in search of bait. There were many other boats there chasing bait on their trolling motors and casting on them. I decided to stick with what's been working for me, and anchored and chummed. We were loaded up with bait in fifteen minutes and were gone fishing. Most of the other boats were still chasing bait.

The Vaigls were a lot of fun. Although the snook were running small, they were a lot of fun and very game on light tackle. I think the Vaigl boys boated around 15 snook (and missed quite a few, too), a small redfish, and a trout for the Slam. Although we hit a number of holes during the morning, most of our fish came from the first stop. We finished the day at, yea, you guessed it, the Waterfront.

After a couple of days in the office, I was back on the water Thursday with Ed "Bo" Mack, and his thirteen year-old son Ed Jr., of Suffield, Connecticut. Ed's family has been in the brick business since 1836, and he continues the tradition today. Ed and his son love to fish, and just love to be on the water.

We started our day out on the beach chumming for bait on a very low tide. When it didn't come to the chum, we went looking along the edge of the sandbar, and found plenty in about a foot of water. The bait isn't big, but it's good enough in the wind we've had. I do think, though, that the small bait may be partially responsible for the many smaller snook we've been catching of late. I've noticed that the bigger of the baits have been catching the bigger snook.

Although the bite was slow, Ed assured me that it was a great day of snook fishing for him with 9 or 10 snook and 1 trout boated, and probably as many missed. Again, the morning bite was best, and things were slow for the rest of the morning. We finished up at the Waterfront with a great lunch.

Friday morning Bo was back with his son Ed, and his lovely wife Susan. We were going to do a full day. We had a falling tide for the first few hours, and Bo and I decided we'd take Susan pothole fishing for some trout and ladyfish. I figured that if we could catch a few ladyfish, we'd be sure to catch some redfish on them later in the day.

Bait didn't take long out on the beach. I had plenty of bait on the first throw, but threw a few more times trying to hand pick some bigger baits. There weren't many that were above the mean average. We were off to our first pothole up on the east side of the Sound. I had Susan seated on the console in front of me. We were all talking as we rode to our first stop. Susan said something to me which I didn't hear. When I bent over to ask her what she said the most freaky of accidents happened. I had installed a radio in the boat a few weeks earlier. I mounted the shorty Sheakspeare antenna on the port side of the console, which put it about chin high to me. It has been kind of in the way, but there was no better place to put it. Well, the console isn't as wide as I am, and as we rode along, I forgot about the antenna being just under my face, all together. Well, I bent down sharply to ask Susan what she had said, and did the impossible; shoved a bouncing antenna end so far up my right nostril I was receiving channel 16 without the radio mounted!! Of course, I rebounded off the antenna quickly, as the pain was intense, but the damage was done. Without Bo realizing what had even happened, suddenly I was bleeding like a cow at the slaughter house, and soon looked like I'd been shot with a 12 gauge. We stopped and Bo because Dr. Mack. We packed ice in a towel and kept it applied to my nose to try to stop the bleeding. It didn't want to stop. Thank God, Bo had some Advil, which later got rid of most of the pain, but the thing just didn't want to stop bleeding. It was OK as long as I kept my head level, but as soon as I looked down, or bent over, it would start bleeding again.

I wasn't about to let this incident keep us from fishing, and Bo was willing to keep the hooks baited, so we went on to our first hole. There were plenty of fish there, and I mostly watched as Bo, Susan, and Ed caught a dozen or more nice trout, 5 ladyfish, and 4 lizard fish. As the tide turned incoming, we moved to our first snook hole where the Macks boated around 15 snook, and lost quite a few, but none made the new keeper limit of 26 inches. Even with my freak accident, it had been a fun morning with some great folks. Ed was all for grabbing lunch at the Waterfront again, so Susan could see what it was all about. Of course, I had to explain several times while there why I looked like I'd been the victim of a shooting.

After lunch, we headed to a flat to look for some redfish feeling confident about having some ladyfish for bait. On the flat, I did see reds, but we couldn't even get them interested in the ladies. I couldn't believe it. So, once the tide quit moving, we headed for the ramp. I left the Macks at the boat and suggested they dunk a shiner for a last snook or two, and headed to the bathroom. By the time I returned they had caught a couple more snook and a ladyfish.

I guess because of the strange events of the day, the Mack trip was one I'll never forget. Bo has been in touch since returning home and is getting things organized for a March trip. He has given me a nickname which I've certainly earned, and I know you'll love; "Radio Schnoze"! I guess Bo wants to see if I can tune in the weather channels!!