Content....Pourly Stated Content....

"Content". Yet another "idea" that has stuck with me for a while. In terms of facebook, blogs, youtube, vimeo, snap chat, vines.... It's all a type of content we surround ourself with, mostly things we are familiar with in an effort to be or become comfortable. Comfort, it's ultimately what we seek right? Comfort through content? Phones, tables, and laptops glued in front of us 24 hrs a day watching messages, tweets and snapchats stream past our blood shot eyes, drives us further and further into deeper and deeper into "the content".  For me lately, it's short fishing videos set to catchy tunes that catch my eye. Taking the two or three minutes to clear my head and watch the mind numbing entertainment, seems therapeutic, but is it? All they are is disguised advertising, flashes of fishing reels, tee shirts, lures, boat hauls are what "get in the way" of the fishing video. anymore thumbing through the content of a fishing web site you'll be hard pressed to see a photo of someone holding just the fish, more like holding the reel, rod, standing so the picture catches the shirt brand and the boat accesories. Shirts don't catch fish folks, they really don't.  Hard work, perseverance, knowledge and a little luck catch fish. I digress, being caught up in the content of outdoors sports is going to render you fishless and eventually broke. You'll have plenty of nice things but last time I checked the basics have never done anyone wrong.
 I've recently moved. Moving will always enlighten you to the amount of content you've fallen for over the years. Lures still in the packages, rods with the tags on them, boxes of unused lines all results of content driven purchases. Have they helped me, well obviously not, they they have never left their original resting place and now have just found new resting places with a little better view.
 So, in an effort to keep my content mine and not that of some media outlets I'm trying harder and harder every year to stick to the old school and use the basics. Try fly fishing more, use artificial lures almost exclusively and keep the contents controlled around me to that in my small tackle box. Sure, I'll still click on the flood tide, skinny water culture videos from time to time but thanks I don't need anymore shirts I'll just take the fishing....

.......And that, kids, is the story of how daddy got resin in his hair.....

So, Lethargicc, my 20 ft Shamrock Open Fish is nearly completed. The list of minor to major repairs made is seemingly endless. From tie straps holding small wires to fiberglass work it's taken close to seven months to dip her keel back into the salty local waters. Nothing came easy on this project, of course right?, I honestly don't expect it to anymore, anything to go "well' or "easy" and I'm mostly okay with that nowadays. Most of the repairs are made and finished, some things were self inflicted - most not.
Self inflicted by choice I might add. In that, when diesel mechanics charge upwards of $150 per hour it's easy to convince your self...."I can do that, hhhmmm? maybe?" For the most part I've enjoyed learning about the 100 horse power Yanmar diesel inboard, nested tightly under the center console and T-top. Although much credit should also go to forums and manuals that are a consistent reference when things seem odd. I hadn't planned on making this a 7 month project but once I pulled on broken part off there was something else behind it, then something else, and so on. I honestly can't even remember what started it all. It might have been wanting to add an additional fuel filter, or an inspection of the fuel tank, whatever it was it ultimately became a fruitful project forcing me upgrade, repair, damage, than repair again, things that were in desperate need of updates.

My ambiguously, amusing, alliteration-
Happy opening day everyone.
Welp. Goodbye concrete jungle, along with all y'all city folk. Hello! Sweet sweet sounds of water lapping, mosquito's clapping and rain slapping. Time to feel, listen and hear God while enjoying His Creations. Cursed will be the Filth-blowing of the V8 powered, peace polluting, Waywordly driven, Marsh mangling, Monsters of man made menaces (aka. The always annoying American Airboat)....
So as we quietly creep into our preordained positions, perched in various palm patches and await that glorious moment to pounce on our prey to provide provisions for our packs.

May your shafts fly straight, your fletchings be unruffled and your feet stay dry; may your spines keep their strength, your broad heads pierce with precision and your harvest be gathered with pride, ethics and in thanksgiving...

Phase 2 Gator Tag Lotto.

Second try. …new list of numbers... … … OK crackers.... It’s time to apply for gator tags. Fallow Capt. Nate’s formula for success and we'll all come out of this season with all our limbs.!. From a desktop.....1. Go to myfwc.com. 2. Click on hunting, limited entry/quota hunts. 3. Apply online. 4. Enter info. 5. Pick alligator hunting. 6. See list in order below. From cell phone. 1. myfwc.com 2. Pick buy license online/ limited entry quota hunt.. 3. Enter info. 4. Pick alligator hunting. Pick, in order, the list below... This is all based on you hunting with me. If you don't need to hunt with me, then you’re welcome for letting you know gator tags are up. This is also a lotto. Once the results come in there is a small amount of time to decide if you are going to go through with it. Those of you out of state ...don't apply. This is just an fyi!!!!!!. Those of you applying, its $270 for two tags, if you get picked in the lotto. If you are picked get with me first and well make a deal once we know what tags/area you have. The deals will range from splitting the price (splitting all the Booty ), me taking the hide and you taking the meat, and so on. These will be at night during the week and weekends and you will hate me by the time the tags are filled. We will get whatever gators we can get within reason (size wise). So, you have till the 30th to apply. You will have 20 options. Put these in order.

5021 5022 5023 5024 5051 5052 5101 5042 5102 5011 5012 5431 5432 5102 5272 5201 5403 5001 5012?

MINNOWS!!!!!! We are gonna need more Minnows....

“Seriously Brady, It’s like shooting fish in a barrel….”, “ You won’t be able to keep count of the fish you’re gonna catch” , “It’s like fishing in an aquarium, dude…”

These were all quotes that were RACING through my mind as we drifted along an impoundment canal that paralleled the Alligator Ally in the Great Everglades last Saturday morning at about 7 a.m.  The reason they were racing through my head was because we had just driven 198 miles right after work Friday night, slept in the truck somewhere in West Palm, woke up at 4:30 a.m. to finish the drive, ate five day old pizza that had been in the truck for well over 9 hours, put our money where our mouths were and registered for the Everglades CISMA Invasive Species Roundup... and there we sat 30 minutes into fishing without a single bite… OH NO….. what if last time I was here it was just a fluke, what if all the rain the week before shut down the bite for the only day we were there to fish? What if… never mind….”I’ve got a fish! “ Ahhhhhhhh! Relief, we won’t get skunked. That was about the only 30 minutes of the day we didn’t nearly constantly have a fish pulling against at least one of our lines. 

The CISMA (Cooperative Invasive Species Management Area) Tourney we had entered was one that I’ve attempted to fish six years in a row, and only made it the last two of the six. Each year the time came and went with a wedding or birthday or whatever keeping me from pointing the truck south and letting the fishing rods eat! Last year, in fact, it was a wedding that got me to Miami Beach close enough to be able to slip out early with my kayak and attend the first one of hopefully many to come, thus making it yet another (and most likely not the last) social event I ultimately showed up to smelling like fish and carrying a big smile on my face, along with the obligatory South Florida sun burn / coon eyes.  Although I didn’t get to make it to the weigh-in last year, it was a success just getting on the H2O and experiencing what it is all about down there. This year, however, it was planned, thought out, estimated and executed perfectly. This year, with the jon boat in tow, Brady and I shuttled down the turnpike with big expectations: expectations that were met and exceeded!!!! The Everglades CISMA is a friendly tournament with a few basic divisions on a per angler basis: most Snakehead, largest Snakehead, most weight total, most types / species, and a  Jr. angler for each category too. It’s a south FL wide tournament with three weigh- in spots: one in Sothern Miami, one the Ft. Lauderdale / Davie and one in West Palm. We registered for the Davie area and fished one of the small boat ramps off of the Alligator Ally (I- 595).  About 35 miles from civilization and in the land of large reptiles and thick bugs, there are small access boat ramps that provide connections to the many impoundment canals of the vast Everglades National Park. We picked one with good lighting to detour crime and restrooms for convenience.  Driving along the highway not having knowledge of what lies under the dark tannic stained water, it just seems like any other road side drainage canal, but not in south FL where nothing is what it appears to be.  The lack of freezing temps allows for year- round breeding of these jailbreak, jaw chomping, jumping juggernauts.  The focus was the invasive fish that have been released within the City’s drainage systems and found their way into the warm breeding-friendly waters of the everglades.

Not long into the morning, we had each caught a handful of Oscars, and it didn't take long to decide that was our targeted fish for the day to try for the aggregate weight division.  So it began. Oscar fishing.  These triple-tailed little buggers were feistier than a Cocoa High girl at prom. Being extremely territorial and darn hungry to boot, catching them was as easy as ….well, you know…. Many times after missing the initial strike that quickly stripped the little amount of bait we offered, they would come back and hit the EMPTY HOOK-- for good measure, I suppose. Nobody needs to tell these Amazonian cannibals to clean their plates after dinner…wow. Mingling among other invasive species under the lily pads, these Oscars provided an endless supply of entertainment. We mixed in a good number of Black Bass (native), Warmouth (native), Brim (native), Mayan Cichlid (non-native), Banded Cichlid (non), Bowfin (kind of native), Oscars (non) and some other species that I really wasn't sure what the heck they were but they looked pretty darn cool.  When lunch time rolled around and it was time to finish that pizza strategically placed on the dashboard hours before, we headed to the truck at the ramp and swapped out coolers because the one on the boat was full to the “gills” with fish. Good problem to have, folks.  After hitting up the now-toasted pizza and tossing the crust to the resident boat ramp gators, we headed back through the canals to try for round two.  At lunch we talked over strategies to cull the biggest bang for our buck with the remaining time we had till the weigh-in's narrow window opened and closed. We figured we would ride the hot hand and stick with the Oscar bite and “stick” is what we did, stick it to em, that is. I guess when it heats up in the everglades above the water so does the bite under the water. We absolutely slayed them after our siesta under the causeway bridge!!!!  Having heavy coolers and tired arms is the only way to show up to a weigh-in, in my opinion. So that’s what we did, fished to the bitter end and hauled ass to the UF extension office where the makeshift scale and a few scientist were waiting to see the day's catch.  As we caught fish, Brady and I shared a cooler but I employed an old way of marking fish used on the head boats for many years: I would get my knife and make one line on the heads of all the fish I caught so we would be able to separate them at the weight-in. It worked flawlessly, if I do say so myself. 

And now the moment you’ve been waiting for, I’m sure: the results.

Brady Brady-

17 Oscars = 9 lbs (one at 1.23 lbs the biggest one of the day for us)

3 Bass

3 Big Bowfin

3 Mayan Cichlid

And many other lil guys

Capt. Nate-

44 Oscars = 34 lbs (7 over a pound)

3 Bass

5 Mayans

And MANY other lil guys!!!!

Now this event is an attempt to educate locals about the resources just a few miles away, as well as an attempt to rid the waters of non-native fish, so it’s a kill tournament and anglers were encouraged to take and eat the fish they caught or to donate them to the local food pantry they had agreements with throughout the South FL area.  Having just relocated farther south on the Island myself and planning on throwing a “big ‘ol” house warming fish fry, I asked to keep our catch and my request was met to my surprise with, “Oh…here…take this cooler-full!" "And all these,”says another scientist. “Oh, take a bunch of these, they're good,” says another as he shovels fresh fish into our coolers…..laughing, all I could think was OH MY GOSH I HAVE TO CLEAN ALL OF THESE!!!!

 So we ended up with a few new treats for the local Central FL natives to snack on at the someday fish fry.  All in all, we ended up catching well over 100 fish including all the bass and other fish that refused the cooler; I filleted 86 fish in two hours using the wonderful electric knife I picked up at Walmart. And sore back and aching hands aside … I’d do it again tomorrow without hesitation. Furthermore, Brady agreed, it was “like shooting fish in a barrel.” He couldn't even come close to keeping track of the fish he caught and he even referenced aquariums a time or two…

Cheers,

Capt. Nate

6th Annual Everglades CISMA Non-Native Fish Round Up

---

Results

The 6th Annual Everglades Non-Native Fish Round Up had a total of 52 anglers. In total, 1,062 fish (16 different species) were caught with an overall aggregate weight of 545 pounds. This year, there were ties in both the adult and junior categories. The tie was broken by whichever angler had the overall largest aggregate weight (not including snakeheads). Prizes will be mailed to the winners by the end of this week.

Most Species (Slam):

·         Adult: Josh Friers (7 species; 53.6 pounds)

Prize: $100 gift card to Bass Pro Shop, Naples Zoo Membership

·         Junior: Sebastian Fraguela & Charlie Gannon

Prize: $50 gift card to Bass Pro Shop

Largest Fish (other than Snakehead):

·         Adult: Daniel Hagood (Nile Tilapia; 3.52 pounds)

Prize: $75 gift card to Bass Pro Shop

·         Junior: Ethan Rogge (Sailfin Catfish; 2.94 pounds)

Prize: $25 gift card to Bass Pro Shop

Total aggregate weight (not including Snakehead)

·         Adult: Daniel Hagood (53.7 pounds)

Prize: $75 gift card to Bass Pro Shop

·         Junior: Ryan Osborne(30.54 pounds)

Prize: $25 gift card to Bass Pro Shop, Cane fishing pole

Largest Snakehead:

·         Adult: Jerry Joseph (6.8 pounds)

Prize: $75 gift card to Bass Pro Shop, Zebco rod and reel

·         Junior: Ethan Rogge (4.56 pounds)

Prize: $25 gift card to Bass Pro Shop, Zebco rod and reel

Total aggregate weigh (Snakehead only):

·         Adult: Jerry Joseph (14.8 pounds)

Prize: $75 gift card to Bass Pro Shop

·         Junior: Ethan Rogge (8.18 pounds)

Prize: $25 gift card to Bass Pro Shop

Would you look at that....

http://www.designmom.com/2015/04/living-with-kids-blythe-grossmann/

Gator lotto time...

Tags are up for grabs!!!!

OH....SH#T!!!!!!!

My boat stalled in front of a cruise ship yesterday....my balls are still in my throat......

RE-purposing

“Repurpose” different than recycle. This term has been stuck in my head for a few months now.  I’m in the middle of a few repurposes myself right now actually. In fact repurposing happens all the time around us but we just have become oblivious (or desensitized) to it; repurposing grocery bags, cuss words [i.e verbs(F&^%), proper names(A-Hole), nouns…you get the idea], coffee mugs for pen holders and old barn lumber for architectural designs are some different ways people repurpose on a daily basis.  Some tangible some not. Also, there’s a type of theoretical repurposing in my opinion, in that, things you do could be tagged as repurposing; baptism/getting saved, changing jobs, having kids, getting married... things that one would have to change their purpose to continue. Lately with all of the heavy handed fish species and seasonal closures it feels like, in a way "The Man" is trying to repurpose us weekend warriors into land loving, dirt licking, concrete zombies. Restrictions on possession limits and stringent size limits coupled with all-out bans have been trickling there way slowly into state and federal water regulation over the last three or four years. As these laws are choking the fun out of what has been an enjoyably pastime for centuries, a new scene of anxiety has thickened the air around ports and ramps. It sucks. Any given day an average weekend angler takes the risk of losing their boat over a misguided harvest of a 12 inch trigger fish because of a closure that happened the night before due to commercial harvest quota limits/shares being met. “Bullshit!!!!” I say!  Being “strongly” encouraged to download and continuously check updates on the federal regulation app because the rules are so liquid just seems a bit excessive to say the least. Pictures of father and son fresh off the head boat with stringers of fish in hand are becoming a thing of the past.  Now days, dropping a weighted rig down to the bottom or slowly trolling over rolling seas is accompanied by crossed fingers and prayers that what eats the bait will be legal…today.  I digress.  We will, as we always have adapt and evolve to carry on repurposing ourselves; becoming regulation reading lawyers on the sea, captains of the recreational encyclopedias of rules, boat driving legal dictionaries buoyantly fishing buoy line....

So with that said, raise your glass to the future of the habitat!  May it bring joy and happiness to everyone on the boat...everyone but the lonely, hungry, useless fish cooler...

.

Mullet Lake Skunk.

As the north trade winds howl throughout the early spring, many natives are licking their wounds inflicted from last minute late season pushes deep into the marsh after soggy,  wore out game, on land that’s been trampled all winter through and through.  Packing up their gear, emptying hunting camps, perusing fuel bills and telling stories of the one that got away.  Ahhh, spring time is here and it’s time to clean the rifles, fix the broken, and hide from the weekend festivities we got out of all hunting season.  It’s like March Madness native style: finding the wet musty sweatshirt in the bed of the truck can’t keep you from remembering rainy early winter mornings, the smell of mud embedded in the passenger side carpet or how sore we were after the miles of walking after the fast flying, migratory mind- blowing, “How did I MISS that F%#ker??” mighty snipe.   Reading this may bring a relative or a relative of a loved one to mind: you know the one who, last time you saw the likes of, was slinking in late to… fill in the holiday family function here… wearing snake boots and most likely poorly groomed.

However, a select few dump the hunting gear wherever they can and climb out of their cocoon of camouflage and get right back on the mighty St. Johns, looking for what she’s going to allow us to harvest from her sweet, sweet waters.  From Mexico bound migratory birds to the southern migration of American shad, the spring is one of her most magical times of the year! If mother nature allows, we baptize ourselves in salt baths and if the conditions forbid, we sneak into sweet water and lightly finesse lines into the tannic-tainted north flowing H2O.  Shad, Spec, Catfish and Bass use this time of water recession to fatten up on the newly hatched spring time goodies and prepare for the long hot summer.  Minnows are a staple for the harvest during the feeding frenzy.  All of the aforementioned species regularly delight in all day feedings of these light tackle wonders of the livewell.  Worms, freshly peeled shrimp, cuts of shad or pretty much any other smelly leftovers from the winter's "funtivities" will work nicely for the feverishly feeding catfish.  Floated to the bottom, hooked with strong hooks, tied with fresh leaders and delicately weighted.  These black mambas of the bottom dwellers will find the springtime sacrificial offerings of stinky treats in no time. As for, shad and spec… not so easy, muchachos…. I’ve taken the high road over the last few springs and tortured myself by targeting them with chicken feathers and closures.  Yes, that means I’ve been fly fishing for these picky little bastards. Not having the patience to tie my own flies, I spent countless nights scrolling through pages of internet catalogs in an aimless attempt to pick the color, size and type of minnow pattern they’ll eat this year.  After package filled parcels parade their way to the mailbox, a few of these and a couple of those are what end up in the man purse as the water clapping inshore skiffs embark on the late Sunday morning sun-filled adventures. 

This last Sunday the Great White Hunter, that is, John D and I headed north to the Mullet Lake area of the St. Johns, up between Lake Harney and Lake Jessup in Geneva, FL.   Although we got pretty much skunked, we had a great time on unfamiliar waters exploring here and there to see what the yonder North had to offer a few lost salt crackers.  The day ultimately did not live up to our expectations of the tales of 20 pound catfish pushing their way out of cooler lids, limits of spec or tight lines pulled by furiously flying shad.  We had fun nonetheless.  A few cold beers, calling out bird names and time to talk about what the upcoming daylight savings had in store for each of us is how we passed the time while we basked in the shadows of ancient cypress trees, surrounded by bottom- busting cypress knees, curious critters and cool spring air; there are few better ways to throw away an afternoon.

Just about two years, that's all it's taken to get me back in the saddle. 

Hey, in case I need to remind you, IT'S SPRING TIME!!!!! Time to trade those late morning sausage and cheese bagels for early morning body moding crunches... "IT PUTS THE LOTION ON THE SKIN", suntan lotion that is.....that's right, fair weathered winter bound folks, bathing suits and beautiful boating weather is upon us (those of us not in the tundra) and I'm game for some action packed trips, possibly a few "trips" and maybe even a fumble or two!  

Come along and let your mind sled away from the snow drifts and flurries and join me on a new boat, meet a few new friends and, of course, get to know most importantly my beautiful and happy family...