Eat Crow Scientists...

8, 12, 24, 36 hours and then not really counting...

So this weekend started a little early for me; that comp time was burning a hole in my, um, pocket, I guess… is that where you keep comp time? Whatever. I took Friday off, that’s what I’m trying to say, geez! So I took off Friday to try my hand at catching the cobia migrations again. I had been reading the reports and the fishing’s been good all week. Late Thursday while I was at Doc’s bait house grabbing a PBR with Adam, I talked to a friend who said he was seeing some right off the second buoy (I think he said it was buoy #9 or 4). Before I talked to him, I had already developed my own hypothesis as to where I thought the migration had taken all my precious fishies. My theory was that, as I had been fishing for them the last few weekends a few miles further north each time each weekend, why would it change this weekend, right? My plan had been to fish the area that is called “the bite” -- the shoreline that stretches from the north jetty of the port to the tip of the cape. Then, from there, fish from the tip of the cape out east into the water where there is a series of shoals where the ocean has seemed to reclaim the area that used to be a part of the great land of Florida. This is called, well, naturally, “the shoals.” I had high hopes; I enjoy fishing with myself on occasions like Friday when the pressure’s not really on me to get a fish in the box and I can try out new lures and techniques as well as sharpen existing skills. I stuck with my float plan and stuck around the buoy line for an hour or two first thing in the morning, but I wasn’t seeing anything: not any rays, not any bait pods, not even any of what has made themselves a constant on the horizon lately- other boats. So I moved on to option two: the bite. Mmm… Nope, nothing there, how about the shoals… Nope, nothing. By now it was getting late, 11:00 or so, and also HOT. I figured the fishing might be getting started a little later in the day since the moon was still on the fuller side the night before, and I motored my happy butt back to square one, close to the mouth of the port. Once I got within a mile or so of the south jetty which is part of Jetty Park I began seeing some water temp changes and I decided to idle along those rips and see if there were any predators waiting around the area looking for a quick meal. Sure enough, I ended up getting a few small tripletail (around 12 inches) before I picked up my first and only keeper of the day. It was about 18 inches, 6 pounds or so and I caught all of them within 400 yards of one another. I missed a really nice 10 pounder, because when I was reeling in the line/lure I looked away at another boat approaching (or stared it down basically) to try to determine if they saw the same fish I was casting at and when I looked back at the water all I saw was a big open mouth with my lure right at some hungry lips…and… well, I ran out of water and pulled the lure another inch to an atmosphere that fish don’t tend to feed in…air. Oh well, it was only Friday and I had plenty of adventure left in me. Off to Nautical Spirits for some dinner with the fam.

While I was cleaning fish Friday evening after dinner, Jonah returned my calls from earlier in the week where I was complaining about not getting any of the super moon shrimping action. We somehow coordinated (without a woman’s help) a “quick” trip to the river breeze ramp to try again at getting our five gallons of shrimp in one night. We planned on just shrimping ‘til midnight or so, but you know how that usually works out with us by now…I think I got home at, mmmm….4 a.m? If you have never been to the river breeze ramp in Oak Hll, like I had not, you are in for a treat!!! This place puts the Grills boat ramp follies to SHAME! Not to go into great detail, but here’s a quick example: when Jonah and I arrived, two of the four ramps were busy with one person on the furthest end with their trailer stuck on the dock and the guys closest to us was installing a trolling motor at the waterline on the ramp. The poor guy with his trailer stuck had his wife or girlfriend “helping” (that is, if yelling stuff is helpful) “NO, NO, left...NO, NO Right! RIGHT!!!” Aww man, it was good. Anyways, back to shrimping…we thought it would be a good night when we’re idling down the channel and there were shrimp flicking and jumping in the little bit of water between the hundreds of boats around us. Once we got set up, we quickly began dipping shrimp as fast as our nets could dip. Somewhere in the dipping frenzy I picked up the Mantis Shrimp; if I knew I had I wouldn’t have brought it home (see pictures) but I didn’t see it in the bucket till Sunday while I was cleaning. Blythe was enamored with it and insisted I put it on the blog. Anyway, it started out to be a good draw but turned out letting us down once again with our bucket only yielding 3 gallons of small-medium shrimp by night’s end. I think I counted my half of the shrimp while I was cleaning them and last count was 27 dozen in a gallon and a half. Yikes, maybe I should say size small-small. Oh well, it was only 3 a.m. and I still had plenty of fight in me.

Once I got home, I quickly gathered my gear. Gear, you think? What gear, crazy Nate? That would be my TURKEY hunting gear. Yes, that’s right I applied for turkey hunting tags back in November and this last weekend was my tags days. I had told Doug I would go out on Saturday morning for a chance to get this year’s Thanksgiving turkey. We had planned on meeting up at my house at 0530 and heading to Seminole Ranch which is about 2 miles from Fort Christmas in Bithlo. Somewhere between shimping and leaving for the ranch I laid down for an hour nap, by the way. Once Doug arrived and we loaded the truck we got there in record time and we were still the 19th set of hunters into the wildlife management district so the spots were slim pickings. Doug and I didn’t have that much of a premonition that we were going to get anything; we had hunted there a few times during small game season and didn’t see or hear any turkeys but we figured we would give it a shot anyways. After an hour and a half of walking trails and service roads, calling, stopping and listening, we never even heard a bird. The morning came to an early end for us, fine by me, and we headed back to the coast. Oh well, it was now 0930 Saturday morning and I’ll be honest; I didn’t have any fight left in me any more...

Upcoming dates

Here is a list of dates you should know these next few weekends, that is if you’re not too busy sucking conditioned air on your way to the Winter Park Art Fest ...blaahhhh....where's your man card??? Of course the cobia and triple tail are here duh what rock have you been under? This weekend is the second weekend of the spring turkey hunts. Jim D. and I will be in "slocala" trying to get one each on his neighbors private land. May 5th- is the day you need to apply for your gator tags (or cross your fingers so I get mine...thank you, and more tags for me....). June 1st- sea bass reopens. Mmmm? I thought I had more but that's all I've got for now...sorry…

Skunky skunky stinky skunkaliciousness! PHEW IT STINKS!!!

As it shows from the last few lame-o posts, I've been concentrating my efforts on the turds of the sea, the prey that (until this last Saturday) has been unable to escape the wrath of my furious freezer. This Saturday has become one of my new favorite days of the year: it's the day that the two local fishing clubs compete against each other for nothing more than bragging rights (and, of course, a small trophy with the winning boat’s name on a plaque) to see who can catch my favorite, the Rachycentron canadum (scientific name for cobia). I wouldn't normally invest myself so much in one afternoon if John M, his wife CJ and their friend Johnny hadn't won first place a few years ago, bringing the trophy (and backing up a ton of smack talk on the local forums) to the FSFA for what was then the fourth year in a row. Once again, last year the FSFA brought the crown to the coast but this year… as someone stated "HELL FROZE OVER...." You guessed it, CFOA (Central Florida Offshore Agnlers) weighed in a 57.7 pound fish and toasted our club for the first year in six straight. F. So, let me tell you about the fish we DID catch before I tell you about the fish we didn't catch. Last week brother in-law Ross was home from his daily grind at USF for a spring session of R&R. I had some comp time saved up just for the occasion, the weather looked premo and on Thursday morning we headed out for a “class on harvesting our own dinner.” Over the last two or three weeks, the forums and social media sites have been blowing up with reports of huge fish being caught just off the coast near Patrick Air Force Base. Nor did the sites fail to mention the fact that FWC has been spying on people from airplanes and from the beach boardwalks writing down vessel numbers so when the boats get back into the port with more fish than the state allows you to keep that close to the beach (within 3 miles), they are issuing hefty tickets. Ouch! Thank you, social media. Well, it didn't take long once Ross and I crested the mouth of the port to notice the 100 or so boats south off of Patrick’s beaches. One pack of mostly unemployed salty fishermen: check. Now, knowing “THE MAN,” or Big Brother, was watching, Ross and I decided to run out to “safe waters” (who would ever have thought calling federal waters “safe” right now with what the feds are doing, right?) and stay out where we could have the chance to keep 2 each instead of 1 each in state waters. Well, to make a long story short, we headed in toward the beach with nothing in the cooler. Never really leaving eye’s sight of the massive armada of skiffs and cruisers inshore we had no other option but to nose up into them and join the crowd. Well, as luck was on our side…it was St. Patrick’s Day… old Ross bagged his first cobia, right at 20 pounds. Shortly after we came to jig our first bait pod, Ross hooked up on it. Phew! Class dismissed! That monkey’s off my back… now onward for mine…well, we went onward and onward and I never did get mine that day. That’s karma paying me back for catching two on John M’s boat the Saturday before. However, the tournament day was coming and I was sure to catch a cobia I could call my own ( I will call him Patrick....and love him/her very much....). Not so fast there, Nate. Not. So. Fast. The “It’s Noon Somewhere” crew and I headed out Saturday to try our best at remembering what winners feel like. We had a tentative plan to go to the Cocoa Beach Pier and head south from there. We ended up running past the pier because nothing seemed to be happening there and stopped right off the Patrick beaches where the bait appeared to be holding in big schools. Nothing ended up coming out of jiggin’ the pods like it had a day or so before. We did, however, happen to see probably close to twenty cobia swimming with/on big rays later in the day once the fish’s super-moon hangover wore off. Gezzzz, an all day hangover, come on. If you didn’t notice the last full moon, it was spectacular. The moon was closer to the earth than it has ever been or something, I don’t know, but it was huge. A huge full moon also unfortunately for us means the fish can see to feed all night which in turn makes it really hard to get them to feed when we want them to, like when they’re swimming next to the boat. Needless to say again, but we didn’t get anything Saturday. Yes, the great (self- proclaimed) Capt. Nate got SKUNKED!!! Does it count if you’re on some else’s boat? No? Oh well, worth a shot. I honestly had no clue how to get those buggers to eat last Saturday. But if you’re trying this week, maybe go north out of the crowd and fish some way less stressed fish, if you can find them. So add up a bunch of salty, sunburned, broke (and now since thursday, drunk.) fishermen; a full moon, some cheap beer, a hot sun and watching twenty or so fish swimming away from your lure…and what do you end up with? A great BBQ with some friends, grilled fresh fish, burgers and cold drinks at the end of the day. Defeat never tasted so good. Cheers!

SPRING INTO IT!!!

Well, as it's happened now for the last four or five years, the magic day has been the day that the time changes back to daylight savings. For some reason on this particularly magical day the Big Cobia decides to come in and allow me to delight in their feeding. I had hemmed and hawed about going out Saturday all week, the weather looked distasteful, but once again by sitting in a cubical somehow I justified taking a beating and on top of that I somehow convinced two other guys to go out with me. I had even waited till 10:00 or so till the wind started to turn like the weather site said it would, to give John D a call. It ended up being John D, Matt and me on Saturday a Saturday that none of us had any business being on a boat in the ocean. But we were determined dangit! Determined to catch the great turd of the sea, the elusive ling or the clingy pelagic... I could go on.... but catch a cobia we did not. It was more like survive the day then a day out fishing with some friends. Anyway to put that behind me I weaseled my way onto John M's boat Sunday a much more pleasantly forecasted day on the same NOAA site mind you. As traditions has it whamo...two over 30 pounds and a 4 pound triple tail to put the icing on the cake. It was a long period swell which made boating um...well...just swell...the wind did what we were told it was going to do and the skies stayed nice and blue to allow us to see into the lovis green water an look for those little buggers. Pretty much not much else to report on the rest of it. If you ever want to harvest one of these sea monsters all you have to do, in layman’s terms, is get out on a bright sunny day (lather on the sun screen of course) find some water temps in the 68-72 degree zone and start looking for what looks like small brown logs swimming near the surface of the water. Sometimes that log looking, dark spot will be a cobia sometimes it will be a giant manta ray which is a good thing for cobia fishing and once in a while it will just be a log... really. grab your gear rated for about 25 pound fish and use a lead head jig. Pink seems to be the goto color this year and if you're anything like me you can't help but laugh to yourself thinking about all the "burrly" fishermen walking out of the bait shops with a bag full of pink lures. I love it. "Um? Excuse me sir? Do you have this in Pink?" i'll be back to finish this post soon...tbc

Boosters

Had a great opportunity to watch the last hurrah for the Space Shuttle Discovery's solid rocket boosters. We were about 25 miles offshore when I noticed an oddly large boat towing what looked like a half- sunken boat and thought nothing of it. A few hours later, when we came back into the mouth of the port, we "discovered" (get it...get it?) it was the Liberty Star towing the second solid rocket booster toward its final resting place. Prety neat to see.

this week's fish

This is what we saw out there today… 1. Right Whales 2. A Sun Fish 3. Hammer Head Shark 4. Sea Turtles 5. Solid Rocket Booster 6. Manta Rays 7. Of course, a bunch of Cobia

Patent Pending...

I’m not sure if my off-topic posts are going to be a rarity or something I enjoy doing, but I figured I’d throw one out here and leave it up to the reader to decide whether or not to put the info into their valued memory. I think one of the things an active outdoors person is always doing is looking at his/her equipment and weighing whether it’s the best choice for the occasion, that is, the best construction or design for the activity they’re doing. A lot of times lately it’s none of the above…we are forced to buy whatever we can get at the time we need it, rendering us equipped but not necessarily “well” equipped. I often think back to when I was a kid riding my bike to any lake my little legs would pedal me to, carrying only a fishing rod. A cheap yellow rod and reel I got for selling Christmas cards and knick-knacks to my neighbors out of a catalog to build points to turn in at the end of the summer for “prizes.” Equipped with only this rod and a hook, I would scour the grass and the banks looking for anything to toss into the dark unchartered frontier. Somehow this tactic worked time and time again; summer after summer, I had a way of finding success. But I digress; the point is this is in stark contrast to the present. I now work long into the night fixing, building, tweaking and adapting tools, equipment and gear to do EXACTLY what I need it to at the moment that I need it to without failure. Recent posts have told you about the long nights of shrimping and the occasional flounder pounding. All activities that hold true for the requirement of a lot of gear. During the flounder gigging experience, I happened to snap a borrowed gig handle; don’t worry, I assure you it was eaten through with termites-- there was no “misuse” involved. That near- catastrophe brought me to think about the primitive type of things we’ve be doing lately: gator hunting (spears and snatch hooks), gigging, bow fishing… and how each one requires a different type of apparatus and how no one man could possibly obtain the permission to gain possession (from the old WIFEY*) of all the required tips, gigs and gear. How nice it would be if there was a single piece of equipment one could grab and throw in the boat that would be legal, cheap to build, dependable and easy to use. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!!!! Now I have only created one such tool to write about to date, but I will keep you posted on the designs and effectiveness of the prototype that will be field- tested. I’ll also do what someone in their right mind wouldn’t do for my modern day fellow followers of the seasons; I’ll post as detailed directions as I can give for building your own. The bare minimum requirements are as follows… Apparatus requirements: 1. Light weight 2. Sharp 3. Able to adapt from large prey to small prey 4. Have an ability to integrate a water proof light into it when needed. 5. Inexpensive 6. Survivability / Durable 7. Adaptable to use from a boat or underwater Well, at least you get the idea of the type of thing I’m looking to build. Here is a prototype that I made the other night. It’s a 1 inch wood rod with some galvanized pipe fittings adapted to it so it can retain the ½ inch aluminum rod that was turned into a dart by drilling it out with a ¼ inch bit. Also on the rod I put a halogen light that I set into a PVC- fitting nightmare… long story short, it works but it’s not “the one.” CONS: 1. Heavy 2. Does not sustain a sharp edge, can’t use aluminum for the dart 3. Light has to stay cooled, too hot for the PVC *Editors Note: for someone who has an “old wifey,” the author surely seems to have found his way around obtaining permission to acquire equipment. The proof is in the two sheds and spare bedroom’s worth of guns, gigs, rods, traps, decoys—not to mention the four boats, kayaks, etc—that reside on the author’s property. Permission, my ass.