I LOVE redfish. I REALLY LOVE redfish when they’re feeding on fiddler crabs along a mud bank. Its the perfect setup for firing a crab fly into the mix to get tight.
Shallow Water Expeditions captures the action and shares it all on Vimeo
It might be time to drag the skiff up north for a weekend.
The Summer of 2014 will forever be seared into my memory thanks to the time I spent in the wilds of Western Alaska. Two weeks of self-reliance with a small group of fellow riverine fly fishing nomads was filled with memories that have crept into my mind everyday since my return. It was epic.
The salmon we sought were old salts, making their way back to the waters from which they had sprung. Theirs was a one way journey, undertaken to sustain their family lineage.
Up the coast from Florida, one of the great storytellers of the Lowcountry made a similar trip. His lens captured the essence and minutia of it in fine fashion.
Enjoy…
I’m astonished nearly ever time I spend time on the water in Mosquito Lagoon at the pace other anglers move through an area. Their arrival under power to a flat disrupts the natural flow of its inhabitants and rarely do they stick around long enough to see the true personality of the place before firing up the outboard and departing for the next stop on the milk run.
I’m certainly not complaining, this frenetic pace often leaves the best areas I frequent a veritable ghost town. The less human impact on the areas the better for my experience.
I was sitting at the end of a long dock alongside the intracoastal waterway a few weeks ago waiting on friend to arrive in his skiff when I had the chance to talk to a neighbor who was lamenting on his lack of success on the water. He was frustrated and seemed surprised when I said that there were lots of redfish in the areas he was getting skunked. As we talked more it became apparent to me that he was taking a random run and gun approach to his fishing and the lack of success was self imposed.
I’m no expert, but I do spend a good bit of time on the water, so I shared with him what I felt were keys to my success.
1. Fish only three places that are in close proximity until you are confident that you understand when they are productive and why and have the track record to prove it.
2. Become intimate with the area, pole it, go slow and learn the nooks and crannies and what you should expect to find on low or high water. Dedicate time to simply sit back and observe, leave the rods stowed and observe the fish and their movements without pressure.
3. Write it down. Make note of conditions and what you found worked in those situations. I often refer to data from years past when I want a change of venue. I’m always surprised at how well I do when I go somewhere based on past notes vs. flying by the seat of my pants and hoping.
Time on the water is meant to be enjoyed. Slow down your roll and soak it all in, just don’t soak bait.
With only one trip to the Lowcountry on the books, I long for the day when I can make the journey there again. Its unlike anything you’ve done where redfish are concerned.
Seriously, its an experience that will recalibrate your sense of what cast to a tailing redfish should be.
The good guys at LC Journal capture the experience very well in their latest offering.
Do yourself a favor and follow them on Vimeo, they keep it fresh and rarely disappoint.
The Kennedy Space Center occupies only a small part of NASA’s property along the Space Coast in East Central Florida. Much of the land is also managed as a National Seashore and Wildlife Refuge. There are areas of the Mosquito Lagoon estuary that are widely considered the oldest marine preserve in the nation due to having been included within the security buffer zone that has protected America’s space program for decades.
A unique by product of the space mission has been the opportunity to study relatively unchanged habitat that rarely sees influence from man made craft or pressure. The results of one of the programs, a tagging study, was recently included in an article in Spaceport Magazine , a NASA publication.
Take a look at the article on pages 32 – 35 in the June 2014 Volume 1 No. 3 issue by clicking here.
The past few weeks have been filled with days of building anticipation for the good times and fishing that is to come. Three intrepid angling souls will pack up flies, rods and reels in just two days and retract the landing gear to head southeast into the archipelago of The Bahamas.
The unknown challenges of going it alone is the greatest appeal for “Do It Yourself” in a far flung location, but the rewards are epic when they come.
The entire experience is an adventure. Beyond the simplicity of making a call to any of the fine bonefish lodges that dot the island nation, the search for shelter is just the beginning in a DIY adventure. Scouring Google Maps for potential flats that will be both accessible and productive consumes hours of time as the date approaches.
For now, its back to packing and double checking gear…
There is a burgeoning movement afoot amongst those who spend time on the waters of Mosquito Lagoon in Central Florida chasing redfish and speckled sea trout. Its a quiet, but sustained, call for a change in guiding practices. Its being brought about by the heightened awareness of most anglers to the estuary’s troubles with extreme angling pressure and degraded water quality. Armed with the knowledge that the resource needs a helping hand, more and more anglers are becoming vocal on social media calling for charter captains and others to make Catch & Release the standard practice rule, rather than the exception.
The angling community is changing its attitude towards the long held idea that the Mosquito Lagoon is a place to go fill your cooler. While anecdotal, there is a wealth of evidence that points towards shrinking numbers of large breeder redfish, as well as a decline in juvenile redfish. Despite a majority of anglers recognizing the state of the fishery as one that is in decline, some guides see the change to C&R as potentially harmful to their business and have taken to social media to promote how splendid the fishing has been and that the resource is bountiful. Their hype is not true.
The joys of angling are many. Lowest on most anglers list is the consumption of their catch. The beauty of the environment, the thrill of the hunt and the excitement of the fight are more truly the reasons than most anglers will spend countless hours on the water in search of fish. Recreation is the goal.
The Catch & Release movement is shaping what is considered ethical and reasonable within the guide community whether the guides sign on or not. Why? Because their clients get it. They’re out for a great day catching lots of fish. C&R will lead to better opportunities for fish filled days, which of late have been the exception throughout the estuary.
Their clients get it because they want their children and grandchildren to have the same opportunities they’ve had, if not better. They’re buying in because its the only way it will happen.
The C&R movement is not saying to guides, don’t take a single fish; the angling community is calling for a more responsible approach that educates charter clients on the current state of the resource and encourages Catch & Release. The community is asking guides to forgo the practice of adding “their” fish to the clients limit.
Its always tough to change. Resistance to change is expected. The guides that are early adopters of the Catch and Release movement will be the ones who benefit the most. Word will spread and the guides will be rewarded with praise and referrals.
Catch & Release is the rule in Mosquito Lagoon and its here to stay.
The reflection of sunlight glimmers like a star on the evening horizon as a tail rises above the surface, distributing the light in a beacon like flash. Roseate spoonbills and wood storks line the shoreline in search of a piscatorial breakfast. As you glide towards the point where the tail has disappeared beneath the surface, not so much as a breeze stirs the heavy moist morning air.
The anticipation of seeing that tail emerge again is building. Your focus is laser-like as you try to discern even the slightest ripple or wake that might alert you to the redfish that is starting to seem like it vanished completely.
The scenario plays out several more times over the next hour while the storks and spoonbills have all but stood still, save the occasional movement that was required to capture a crustacean or fish at its feet.
By now, the sun has climbed a bit higher and the sight lines into the water have grown longer. The occasional sign of a fish still appears, but its merely a tease, as they continue to cruise silently back into oblivion, blending into the mottled bottom.
Rather than succumbing to the urge to leave these redfish behind in search of “happier” fish, a better option is to simply put time on your side.
The birds along the shore are masters of time and use it wisely to ensure they remain well fed each and every day. Emulating their tactics can lead to success where before it had remained elusive.
Sight fishing is often referred to as being akin to hunting . Most often it is a spot and stalk game, but occasionally still hunting will deliver the best results.
When the fish are playing hide and go seek, hunker down and put time on your side. They’ll eventually make the mistake of showing themselves within your range. Then, just like our feathered friends have learned, they’ll be easy pickings.
Life is Good. Its better on the water.
Salt Bum is an advocate for conservation, including the prevention of unnecessary beer spills.
If you’re on the sandbar, at the campground or hanging out in the back yard, secure your beverage.
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