This would be the first week of trips on BarHopp'R II, and she was ready just in the nick of time. BarHopp'R I is laid up at Smith Marine with a fuel tank problem again. They're really busy and running several days behind, so I don't know how long it will be before she's ready for action again.

My first victims of the week were to be David Fulton, his dad Buford, and his uncle, Ralph Fulton. They were staying at Buford's place on Pine Island, and I was to meet them at The Waterfront Restaurant for pickup. As I idled away from the dock that morning, trimming the engine down for the run, I realized my jackplate would not work in the down position. I couldn't believe it. I got almost five years out of the one on BarHopp'R I without any problems, and this rig has barely been used, and it doesn't work!

I knew I needed to get it fixed, because we had some pretty low tides in the early morning hours for the next several days. We also had some very poor early tides. I ran across to St. James City and met David and the boys, and told them of the problem. They suggested that since it had to be fixed, it would be better for me to try to get it fixed early, so we could fish the better part of the tide, which was in the afternoon. That was a slow tide, too, but certainly better than the early morning stagnant tide. So, I was off to Punta Rassa, put her on the trailer, and off to Smith Marine. I was there waiting when Craig arrived, and as usual, he was kind enough to put Danny right on it. The problem proved to be a bad control switch, and I was on my way just in time to get back to St. James City by noon. The Fultons were there in the middle of a great all-you-can-eat grouper lunch.

We fished on both sides of the Sound. The catching was tough, as predicted. We had just had a front pass through that had finally brought us some rain. That in combination with slow moving tides would certainly shut the fishing down for a while, except for bait. The Fultons were a fun bunch of guys to be with, and we had a great time that first day in spite of the slow action. We got our West Coast Slam in the first hole, but the total for the day was 1 redfish, 1 jack crevalle, 2 nice trout, and 4 or 5 snook.

When it was time to head in, I dumped the left over bait and got the boat ready for the ride home. Everyone was in place for the ride. When I hit the ignition key, the engine spun plenty fast, but didn't want to start. I couldn't imagine why. It had been running perfectly. I tried it in every throttle position and with choke on and off. Nothing. It was getting late. I decided that I'd better pole the boat to the nearest channel so that we'd have a chance of a rescue if we couldn't get the motor lit. I anchored and tried it again. Nothing!

I wasn't relishing the idea of having to spend much time out there after dark. I had already put my winter stuff away, and it had been plenty cool that morning. It would be even cooler tonight. I was wishing I hadn't already thrown the bait away. Before long, a boat came out way, and we flagged him over. It turned out to be Charlie, a waiter from the Waterfront, and his girlfriend Beth. Charlie agreed to pull us back in to a little ramp he knew of on Sanibel. I got on the phone and called my buddy Capt. Mark Bess to see if he could help. Charlie gave him directions to the ramp, and was kind enough to pull us there and drop me off with the boat. Even better, Charlie was going right by the Waterfront, and volunteered to drop my guys off so they wouldn't have to be out late with me on a boat that wouldn't start. That was great!

At around eight o'clock, as it was about to get dark, and I was already freezing, I decided to try the motor again. I went for a normal cold start with throttle forward and choke on. The damned thing cranked right up!! I kept her running and called Mark to see if I could intercept him before he got too far along. He was just crossing the first span of the Causeway, and said he'd go back and wait for me at the ramp. I took off across the Sound trying to beat the total darkness that was about to settle in, and the quick drop in temperature that would come with it. When I pulled in to the ramp twenty minutes later Mark and his seven year old son, John were waiting for me on the dock, and had the most beautiful sight I'd see all day with them; a hot cup of coffee! Man was that good! We loaded up and headed home.

I theorized that perhaps the gas wasn't quite as fresh as it could be, as I was still running on the fuel that was in the tank when we "winterized" the boat for the down time in the fiberglass shop. We had added Stabil to the fuel system and oiled the cylinders, and so forth. I figured that a fresh fifteen gallons of gas would probably dilute what was left and eliminate any chance of further problems. Apparently, I was correct in my theory, because the boat ran flawlessly for the rest of the week.

I picked up the Fulton gang again at the Waterfront at noon on Tuesday. I had decided that we would do some tree fishing for redfish and snook as the tide got higher in the afternoon. We caught a few fish earlier, but I'll be darned if I can remember what. Around three o'clock, we moved over to the Sanibel side of the Sound, and worked the mangroves behind Wulfert Keys. We found plenty of redfish that were willing to eat, but the boys had one heck of a time getting them hooked. Buford proved himself to be the luckiest guy I'd ever seen at getting his line out of the trees when he managed to pull it free some five times without breaking it off. Amazing!

David's luck wasn't as good. He hooked a monster of a snook under the trees. He gave it a hell of a good fight and got it out of the trees and to the boat. But, the snook wasn't done, and took off under the boat to the mangroves that were now much closer. After a lot of excitement, the snook cut the line in the hanging roots. David had almost beaten a very nice snook on eight pound line right close to the mangroves. Quite a feat! Of all the hits we had, I believe the boys put 4 redfish and a few snook in the boat, but I just don't remember the numbers. It wasn't that important, anyway. These were fun guys, and we'd had a blast. And, believe it or not, when it was time to go home that evening, I hit the key, and................she started right up.

Wednesday morning I met Mark and Carla Mahoney, of Elizabethtown, Kentucky, just before noon, hoping that the fishing would improve. I knew that Carla was as sweet as she could be just from talking with her on the phone. I also knew that Mark, Vice President of an auto parts manufacturing plant, was as hard-core a fisherman as there is. Mark was quick to tell me that he'd been asking around, and knew that the fishing had been tough, and would likely continue to be. We would make the best of the situation.

I had hoped to be able to get out to the Stickbeach, but the northwest afternoon breeze wouldn't let me do that. The beach would be too rough. You can't have fun fishing, even if they're biting like hell, if you can't stand up to fish! So, we would have to find fish elsewhere. We did find plenty of beautiful bait north of Chino Island. Through the course of the afternoon we did find a few fish, and I tried to teach Mark some new tricks. We did manage to catch 4 snook to 26 inches, a half dozen or more speckled trout, and a jack and a ladyfish. Not a spectacular day of catching, but not bad, considering. It had been a great day on the water with some very nice folks, and Mark told me that he had learned a lot from me. He's ready to go again, soon. I've still got a lot of tricks up my sleeve that I'd love to teach him.

Thursday, my old friend Rick Bardowell was over from Ft. Lauderdale, with his friend Steve to gain some much needed time away from the rigors and stress of opening a second Ace Hardware Store. I told Rick the fishing would be slow when he booked the day, but he just wanted to get out on the water. Rick is always fun to have aboard, and just loves to be out there fishing. Steve was glad to be there at all. He told me of his bout with melanoma some years ago, and that the doctors told him he wouldn't survive more than a couple of years. But, there he was years later beating the odds!

My friends Lew Joseph and Mike Henry joined us at Chino for bait, which was plentiful. Once we took off, we didn't see them for the rest of the day. Rick, Steve, and I hit a lot of spots early in the afternoon, without too much luck. I made a major move to the mangroves as the tide flooded the flats, to see if we could find some redfish. We found them, all right, but didn't manage to drag one out of the bushes. They did pull a few small snook out of the trees, though.

I made another move back on to the flats for some snook action. It wasn't long before we had it. I got some blows on the chum, and knew we had some fish there to catch. I pitched a bait to the edge of the cover, and was treated to the unmistakable sound of a big snook popping it on top. An instant later, the shiner disappeared in a large swirl of water, and my line snatched tight. I stuffed the rod into Rick's hands, and the battle was on. We knew it was a big fish. She was burning line of my Diawa Emblem Z 2000 and there was nothing Rick could do but hang on for the first couple of runs. I, of course, was in the extreme coaching mode at this point. The water was barely a foot and a half deep, and we were treated to the sight of the big snook several times as she fought for her life. After what seemed like an eternity when you know the clock is running on the leader, Rick had the fish along side the boat, and I got her securely in the jaws of my BogaGrip.

What a fish! She was just under 11 pounds, and 32 inches long. Rick had tamed her with the Daiwa 2000, Ande 8 pound Envy green line, and a St. Croix 7 ft. Premier rod. A wonderfully light, yet powerful combination for light tackle fishing. There was, of course, a lot of hooting, hollering, and celebrating aboard the BarHopp'R, as that was the largest snook Rick has caught to date. He has caught a ton of snook, but that was the biggest. Rick agreed that it would not be proper to kill a beautiful female like that and worked hard on her for what must have been the better part of an hour before she was ready for release. No good deed goes unpunished, and Steve caught a 26 incher that was just right for keeping.

We ended the day with half dozen snook, 3 or 4 nice jacks, some speckled trout, and a few missed redfish. It had been a beautiful day. Rick called it an awesome day. I learned later that Lew and Mike had also had a great day, but had lost all the batteries and had to be towed home by Sea Tow. It was a late night for them.

Friday morning, we finally had a little water moving in the AM. I also figured that the early morning wind would be out of the east, and I'd have a chance to get Tom Reid Jr., his dad Tom Reid Sr., and Tom Jr's best friend Carmen Rotella, out to the Stickbeach to look for snook. The Reids are originally from Jersey, and Tom Jr. still lives in Flemington. Tom Sr. is now retired, and lives in North Ft. Myers.

We caught our bait at Chino and headed immediately for the beach. I wanted to get out there and catch a few fish before the wind began trying to switch around and turn into a seabreeze, roughing up the beach. to my surprise, there were a couple of other boats already on the beach when we arrived. One was a center console rig which we never saw boat a fish. The other was a Permit which appeared to be a guide boat. We saw them boat a trout or two and hook a stingray.

We had pretty constant action. Carmen immediately hooked a large snook. He had, by his own admission, never tangled with anything bigger than a panfish, and didn't have any idea what to do with that snook. I tried to coach him through it, but it was all over very quickly. There are all kinds of new stickups out there, now. It's barely recognizable from last year. The winter storms rearranged everything. Papa Reid, who claimed to be the least experienced of the three, immediately jumped into the lead with half dozen nice fish, then decided to sit down. The wind had swung around southeast and kicked up the water, and his knees were bothering him. He said he was OK. Tom and Carmen continued to catch some very big trout and more snook, and Carmen broke off another big snook later in the morning.

Out of the blue, Tom Sr. ran to the starboard side of the boat and assumed the chumming position. He said he though he was getting sick. I instructed the boys to reel 'em in quickly so we could get the boat going. I knew if I could get under way before Tom got really sick, his tummy would settle down. We were out of there like a shot. Once going, Tom agreed that he was feeling better. We headed inside to flatter water. We had boated upward of a dozen snook, a dozen or more beautiful speckled trout, and several jack crevalle. There had been a lot of missed fish, too.

I stopped at a favorite redfish flat to see if I could chum up some redfish action for the boys. It didn't take long to get the first several hits, but they were all missed. Tom Sr. decided it was time to go. Everyone agreed it had been a great morning, and they were ready for some rest. We headed home about a half hour early.

That was the first week of guiding from BarHopp'R II. It's a bit of a plane-Jane next to BarHopp'R I, with it's full cap deck, but is it ever roomy. It looks like a little aircraft carrier. The livewell is the size of a Jacuzzi, but I miss not having the second well. The small Action Craft console is perfect, and further adds to the illusion of acres of room. The only drawback is that I was not able to put but four rod holders on the console. Fortunately, there is storage for four more rods under the gunwales. She's simple, stable, roomy, and runs great. She's also much lighter that the other boat. Quite frankly, before we did the conversion I couldn't stand fishing out of her. The huge center console and cooler seat were in the way every time I turned around. Nothing was where it should be. I have to admit that since the facelift, I've fallen in love with her.