Even though I got sick over the weekend, and was sick all week with some kind of bug, this week could have gone down in my record books as one of the most enjoyable ever, but I really blew it. I pulled a major boner. Read on.
I took Monday off to take care of business back in Sarasota. I was scheduled to fish with Jim Turek and his beautiful wife Neda along with their friends Brian and Sue Powers on Tuesday, then with just Jim and Neda on Wednesday, and again on Friday. Thursday, I was to fish with Rick Bardowell and his son. I had fished with Rick and some of his buddies back on June 23rd., and we'd had a great time. Rick and his friends were lots of fun, and I was really looking forward to taking him and his son fishing. It should have been a perfect week.
As soon as I met Jim and Neda Turek at the ramp, and talked with him as we rode through the darkness, I knew it was going to be fun fishing with them. Jim brought with him a tremendous amount of enthusiasm for the sport. He had no preconceived notions or unrealistic expectations. He told me that he greatly enjoyed reading my weekly fishing reports. I could tell this was a man who just loves to fish. Neda, although not hard-core, was a great sport and seemed to understand and appreciate Jim's passion. But, as much as Jim wanted to get out there and fish, he was gentleman enough to offer to cancel the trip when I told him I was sick. I refused, and I'm glad I did.
After getting plenty of bait for my four anglers at Foster's Point, we headed to the Stickbeach. I had suspected that the snook bite would be slow this week, as we ushered in a full moon on Friday. I was correct. But, the trout, mackerel, and jack crevalle didn't seem to care about the full moon. We had a great bite all morning long. In fact, if you were too slow to pull your bait out of the water to cast it back out, it was likely to be attacked by a mackerel or a trout. Jim, Neda, Brian, and Sue caught and missed fish after fish, and I could tell that Jim, in particular, was having a blast. He's the kind of guy guides love to fish with. He's happy with whatever is pulling on the end of his line. He was just amazed that there could be so many fish in such a small area. We had a blast, and by eleven o'clock, we'd boated a dozen or more jack crevalle, half dozen or more of speckled trout, a mangrove snapper, and around 7 or 8 snook up to 5 pounds. I suggested we go inside for the last hour and see if we could find a redfish or two real quickly. Everyone was agreeable, so we took up position on a flat and did some chumming. It didn't take long before both of the girls had a redfish in the boat, and we headed home for the day. It was brutally hot, and everyone had had enough.
I was looking forward to fishing with just Jim and Neda on Wednesday. Four anglers on hot action is a real workout. I had decided to do a repeat of the day before, but to head to the flats for redfish earlier in the morning. The snook bite was again slow, but the trout, mackerel and jacks were again willing to play. By the time we left for the flats Jim and Neda had caught lots of trout and jacks, some mackerel, and a snapper. On the flats we anchored on one of my favorite snook spots. Jim was amazed that this spot gave up about ten fish, which included snook and a couple of redfish. Once that spot slowed down, we moved out onto a flat looking for more reds. As I poled the BarHopp'R toward our final destination, we stumbled across some redfish muds. I told Jim to cast straight off the bow. He made a perfect cast. When the shiner and popping cork rig hit the water it immediately disappeared. Neda and I were treated to the sound of the drag giving line to what turned out to be a beautiful redfish of about ten pounds. Jim was so excited about that fish. He couldn't believe how those reds pull. He was excited about every fish, and that's what made Jim so much fun.
Thursday was a day I'd rather forget. I got up feeling about the same as I'd felt all week. Like a train wreck. I was in the water at 5:45 AM. I knew that once Rick and his son and I got out there catching fish, I'd forget about how lousy I felt, just as I had done every day this week with Jim and Neda. A number of the local guides came and went. We swapped fishing experiences thus far in the week, and the general consensus was that nobody was catching much, especially reds. Hum? By 6:30 I was getting worried that Rick had experienced car trouble, or something. I knew he was anxious to get his son out fishing. So was I. Seven o'clock came and went. I sat in my van wondering what could have happened, as I hacked up my insides. I knew Rick knew his way to the ramp, because he'd been here before with me. I had given him my local number and asked him to call me the night before the trip, but I hadn't heard from him. I couldn't imagine what could have gone wrong. Finally, I pulled the BarHopp'R out of the water, unloaded everything, and headed home. As soon as I arrived I checked my emails to see if Rick had sent me a last minute email with some kind of last minute change of plans. Nothing. I scanned through all of Rick's emails to see if there was something I'd missed, and there it was! It was his email dated Sunday, August 2. He had asked me to pick him up at Jensens on Captiva. I'd emailed him back and said that would be fine. I guess I was feeling so bad, I don't even remember the email. Oh God, I couldn't believe this was happening. I tried to find the telephone number for Sunset Captiva, where he was supposed to be staying. There was no listing like that in the book. I called information. They gave me a number which I immediately called. The girl who answered informed me that I had a wrong number, and that something must be wrong, because everyone was calling their number looking for Sunset Captiva. Damn! I didn't know what else to do. I knew it would be pointless to try to get to Jensens in hopes Rick would still be waiting, as it would be eleven o'clock before I could get there. So, I sent him an email, in hopes that he may be one of the many people who check their emails while they're on vacation. I guess he isn't because I still haven't heard from him. I'm wondering now why he hasn't at least called me to give me a good ass chewing. I offered in the email to give him and his son a free fishing trip. I hope once he's done being mad at me, he will accept.
Friday was a fantastic day. Jim told me at the ramp he felt like hell, and was apparently coming down with my bug. I offered to cancel the trip, but he declined, as I knew he would. Jim loves to fish too much. Although it was the full moon now, the moon was setting on the horizon at around eight. I was hopeful that we might get some kind of solunar influence on the snook bite. Once we had our bait caught, and entered the Gulf through Redfish Pass, we found the water a bit chopped up. I told Jim that some of the best fishing seemed to happen when the beach was bumpy. I had a feeling this would be no exception. Once anchored on my favorite spot, we got nothing, nicts, zip, notta, single hit. This couldn't be. I moved the boat not more than 50 feet to the down current side of the cover we were fishing. Wahla! There they were! For the rest of the morning we caught snook after snook. Neda was so tired from her vacation that she didn't even want to fish. She's a real trooper, though, and kept Jim and I baited up for most of the morning. Yes, it's true. Jim was more fun to watch than a nudist camp. I swear, he had something good to say, ie; "what a beautiful fish", "what a great fight", "I just can't believe we've caught so many fish out of one spot." for every one of the 32 snook he put in the boat that morning. He was truly like a kid turned loose in a Toy R Us store. We left the snook still biting, albeit slower, to see if we could add some redfish to the total. Once inside on the flats, we were treated to what has become a Friday crowd that's almost as bad as the weekend crowd. Must be a lot of people taking off Friday to avoid the weekend crowds. I wasn't able to raise a redfish, and Neda was well past wanting to get out of the sun, so we called it a day. What a great day it was. I almost hated to tell the Tureks good-bye that day. I watched them walk away feeling I'd made friends for life. I can't wait until they return. It was nearly a perfect week except for my boneheaded brain-fart.
Rick, if this crosses your desk, please forgive.