There was a lot going on Christmas week, but I still managed to run three trips.

First up were Gregg Brodsky and his long time friend Joe, both from the Boston area. Gregg and Joe are both Russian born, who came to America fifteen years ago, and have made the American dream a reality.

This day opened with light winds out of the southeast and a forcasted high of 80. Seemingly perfect conditions. The thorn in our side would be the tide. The water would only move .4 feet throughout the course of the day. That's the kiss of death on inshore saltwater fishing. Also, we'd just had a cold front come through, and there was already another one on the way.

I went to the third span of the causeway to find bait, and find it we did. I anchored near one of the bridge pilings in about eight feet of water and put out a little chum. Almost immediately, the water was sparkling with shiners. I threw the net, and when I started to haul it in, I though for a minute I was caught on the bottom. Turns out I had more bait in the net than I had ever caught in one throw. I would guess there must have been over 700 baits in the net! I thought this was perfect start to what would be a perfect day.

The first strike of the day came from above. Like a bolt of lightning a huge bald eagle came from out of nowhere and snached a freshly casted shiner from the water, nearly jerking the rod out of Joe's hands. He was able to fly faster than the drag would give line and quickly broke off. He sat up in the mangroves peering at us until we left. That's the first time I have ever seen an eagle dive on a hooked bait.

Not long after that I witnessed another first. We were fishing a deep cut looking for snook, when one of the boys had a terrific, classic topwater snook strike. The fish took off just like a snook a gave a great fight. "Snook!" I hollered, excited that we'd finally hooked the first snook of the day. But, to my great surprise, the fish turned out to be a very scrappy gag grouper of 19 inches. I don't recall ever seeing a shallow water grouper strike a bait on top.

It was a day full of firsts, and full of fun and laughter. Gregg and Joe were great guys that taught me that funny has no geographic or ethnic bounds. They told me quite a few Russian jokes that were hylarious. Their accents and animation made them even better.

It was a tough day, for sure, with 2 snook lost, and one grouper, one snapper, one jack, and about half dozen trout caught. We were on fish all day long, and saw many large snook. Predictably, they just refused to eat. But we still had a great day of fishing!

Right at the end of the day my hydraulic jack plate quit working. I was in a panic because it is essential to the performance of the boat, especially on these super low winter tides. I had only Christmas Eve to get it fixed, then a week's worth of trips in a row. Craig and the boys at Smith Marine were a lifesaver, as they jumped right on it that afternoon after I came in. Danny found a burned and open ground return wire, and we decided then and there to rewire everything from the console back and put a battery switch in while we were about it. Craig let me pick the boat up late Christmas day. You just can't beat that for service.

The day after Christmas I had Cal Walker, of Bonita Springs, and his sons Brent and Ross out for full day of fishing. I'd had Cal out once before as part of a group trip for the Bonita Bay Fishing Club, and Cal had bought a couple of my Shimano Stradic 4000 reels when I upgraded to the latest models.

Again we had perfect weather with a light southeast breeze and a high of 81, along with a really miserable tide for the second half of the day. Cal and his boys were pretty good anglers and we made the best of a tough day. By days end Cal, Brent, and Ross had caught and released 5 snook to 25 inches, about a dozen nice speckled trout, 2 flounder, 2 gag grouper, 1 ladyfish, and 2 jacks. It was a great day to be on the water, and everyone had a good time. And Cal and his boys were a pleasure to spend the day with.

The last trip of the week was with Mark Minch and his father-in-law Mike Burke, of Grove City, Pennsylvania. We'd had a front waffling back and forth from Tampa to Ft. Myers for several days, and we were now under the threat of bad weather as the front was expected to move on south. The Weather Channel radar showed the band of storms about 50 miles off the coast, but said they wouldn't arrive until late afternoon. I assured Mark and Mike that the fish would eat well with the wind roaring out of the south/southwest at 20 plus, so we went for it.

I didn't spend a lot of time getting bait, because I was concerned about eating into our fishing time if the front decided to push in early. That turned out to be a good decision. The first stop was a hole where I'd seen many snook and reds stacked up just the day before, but they weren't there now. I moved on to one of my favorite spots on the first of the incoming tide. The fish were there, and they were hungry.

Mark and Mike principally fish for walleyes back home, and they weren't quite ready for the explosive, leaping, topwater runs of our snook. They found them to be quite a formidable fish on light tackle, but handled them well without breaking off one fish.

I was keeping a watchful eye to the northwest, looking across at North Captiva as we fished, knowing how quickly our weather can sneak up on you. It was looking progressively worse, and I finally told the boys I thought we'd make a decision as to whether we were going to run back to the ramp, or be forced to find a place to hide if we stayed much longer. Well, before we could make a decision came the first clap of thunder, and I knew we had waited to long. Before we could get our lines reeled in and the boat underway it was starting to rain. I made a beeline for Keesle's stilt house not far to the north. All hell broke loose as we secured the boat under the house, with the poling platform just clearing the framework.

Now I've been caught out in storms before, and been in some windy conditions, but this was the strongest wind I've ever been in on the water. It must have blown 50 MPH!! It was raining in horizontal sheets, and after the wind really kicked, it was blowing waves in over the bow that made it even wetter. We wouldn't have gotten any wetter if we'd stayed out in the open fishing. It was just an unbelieveable blow. The wind stacked the water up so quickly that we had to untie and move the poling platform out from under the house so we wouldn't be trapped there. When the storm started, there was probably 3 inches of clearance. When we decided to make a run for it, the platform was a good 5 inches above the bottom of the framework. A great illustration of how the wind can move the water.

We ran back to the ramp, and after a short wait the boys decided to call it a day. That turned out to be a good call, as it rained for most of the rest of the day. Even though Mark and Mike only got to fish for about an hour and a half, they'd caught around 8 snook to 12 pounds, and 2 nice trout. They were glad they went in spite of the weather, and vowed to come back to do battle with our snook again. I think they're hooked!

And that rounded out what was, indeed, an unusual week of firsts.

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