-James Joyce
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| dec 2013, crowsnest pass, -20c, the trout are sleeping |
I spent the summer sight fishing for trout in very shallow water. It reminded me of a wonderful angling experience I had a long time ago, in the early 1990's. I lived in Montreal then and arranged two job interviews in Florida. One was in the Sarasota area, west coast Florida. The other was in Jacksonville, on the east coast. I was there for about three weeks in early June as I decided to take a holiday at the same time. I remember the time of year as the NBA final was occurring and Michael Jordan was King of the Court. I fished for two weeks prior to my interviews. I brought a fly rod and spinning gear. Few people were fly fishing the beaches then. I'm sure things have changed.
I didn't know what to expect. I had prepared for the interviews, not the angling. I was on a budget and brought camping gear. I flew to Sarasota, a beautiful town, got a car rental and drove south to a campground called Oscar Scherer Park. I soon found out camping in Florida in early summer is quite different than Quebec. The park was a ghost town, as all the Snowbirds had returned north. When I tried to erect my pup tent I couldn't drive the pegs into the ground as it was like concrete, probably after six months of heavy RV use. I had to set up without pegs and tied one of the tent graphite poles to a tree so it wouldn't blow away in a tropical afternoon storm. When I returned to my tent in the evening it was usually either upside down or somewhere else. Sleeping in the tent was also hotter than a Montreal bagel oven. The next day I bought a cheap Dollar store hammer, pounded on the tent pegs but they simply ended up looking like Curly fries. After a couple of days I decided to search for softer ground at another campground further south on Pine Island near Ft Myers. Pine Island also sounded idyllic and cooler than the scorching mainland.
Pine Island felt like going back in time; old Florida. Much of it was still agricultural. The colourful little artsy town of Matlacha on the drive there and Bokeelia at the north end the island were especially beautiful. The campground was perfect. The soil was soft. The place had a big outdoor pool. I planned to jump in before bedtime to cool down. My first afternoon there a gang of bikers on Harley's pulled in and set up camp. They kind of looked like Mel Gibson's adversaries in the Road Warrior. I thought the place was going to be real rowdy but to my surprise it wasn't. I guess the lesson learnt is: don't make assumptions. The bikers were alright. I took a swim after supper surrounded by tattoos and then headed for my tent when the sun was setting. I soon was engulfed by no-see-ums. I am pretty bug tolerant having grow up in Canada: mosquitoes, black flies, deer flies...I can handle it. The no-see-ums, however, got the better of me. I had no insect repellent. In a short time, my skin was on fire. My tent screen was no defence. They passed right through it. I had no choice but to drive to the mainland for repellent, which helped. I sprayed myself from head to toe, closed the tent flaps and slow broiled myself, basting with Off every hour or so until the oven bell rang (alarm clock) at 6am.
I woke up puffy faced. The decision was real easy. I slam dunked my tent into the trunk, drove north and got an inexpensive motel on the Tamiami Trial, an old commercial strip which runs through Sarasota. That night I finally got a decent sleep. Next morning I grabbed a Grand Slam breakfast at a nearby Denny's and then drove to a beautiful white beach on Longboat Key, a barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico. Life was good again.
I fished the same area for several days and got into a routine. I was just south of a cut between Anna Maria Island and Longboat. Just the thought of the place still makes me feel warm on a cold Winter day. I would wade out in the gentle morning surf until waist deep. Then I just stood there watching the water for life. I soon started seeing schools of lady fish. They were trout size, cooperative and a lot of fun to catch. Once hooked they went airborne. It seemed if you got a fly in front of them they charged it competing with one another in their pursuit. Keeping them on the hook was a challenge. One day I saw a much larger fish. It was a torpedo shaped speedster: a Spanish Mackerel. A great prize on light tackle.
In the morning if the small beach access lot was full I found parking on the east side of the island in a little residential community consisting of maybe twenty or thirty homes. The first time I parked there I spotted a large creature in my peripheral vision walking behind a house. Then I saw another one in my rear view mirror pass behind my car. They were large wild Peacocks, some six feet in height. They hung out on the secondary roads, in vacant lots, on manicured lawns, and even stood on porches and decks. They were everywhere, seemed fearless and use to people....kind of like the Geese that reside in the urban waterfronts and neighbourhood parks in Canada.
One windy day while wading back to land after an afternoon of fishing, I spotted a large long dark object swimming parallel and real tight to the beach. In the next hour or so, I saw a couple others on the same path. They were Snook, two to three feet long. They probably had been travelling behind me, right along the beach all afternoon. I had spent the whole day throwing a fly out to the deep blue when I should have turned around and casted to the shallows. The Snook travelled in the first trough just feet beyond the sand. I tossed a fly at one, no response.
The next day I purchased an eight foot cast net with a bucket and spent the morning teaching myself how to throw it. In case you don't know, a cast net is a circular net with small weights distributed around the circumference. If you haven't thrown one they are great fun, almost as much fun as fishing. I collected the net in my hands even using my teeth. I developed a throwing motion that was kind of similar to a Olympic Discus competitor. Anyway, I quickly got the hang of it and put it to use catching and studying the bait fish in the beach trough where the Snook were travelling. Most of the bait were minnow like. Some were roundish, silver dollar in size or slightly bigger. The other predominant type were about two to three inches long and slender. All were a silvery-grayish-white. There were also some small crabs and sand fleas in the trough. A white Clouser would have been a good fly choice. However, I was a novice in terms of saltwater fly fishing and simply tied some crude white concoctions with a bit of flash. The next series I tied I added just a bit of weight. The next day I spotted a few Snook circulating in the shallows in the early morning. Then in the afternoon when the Gulf had a chop to it, a repeat of the previous day occurred where Snook travelled very tight to the beach in ultra skinny water. I was on to something.
On one section of the beach a little south of where I had been fishing I spotted a series of square concrete posts sticking up out of the sand some three, four or six feet high. They were possibly remnants of a destroyed pier. I'd hoist myself up on them in the afternoons in order to fight glare and locate beach cruising Snook from a great distance. When I'd see a Snook heading my way I'd jump off the post and get set up to present my offering. I casted from the beach and as days passed hooked several fish this way. I discovered you have to be stealthy (sneaky) with Snook in the clear, shallow water. I'd cast well in front of a travelling fish, let my fly sink, wait for the Snook to get close and then tug the fly away from it. When hooked they usually jumped. Most broke off. I soon found out that that Snook have razor sharp gill plates that can easily sever light mono filament line (leader), which is what I was fishing. I needed a very heavy mono shock tippet to deal with this. As time went on I got into a fishing rhythm. I could predict when they'd show up and I got sneakier and a little bit better at fooling them. No pictures... I didn't carry a camera on my fishing adventures in 1991.
The next week I drove south and fished another barrier Island called Manasota Key. I also discovered Snook travelling there...same behavior. After several hours of fishing I realised I really missed my concrete post where I'd perch and watch for afternoon fish. I drove to a hardware store and considered buying a step ladder for the beach, however after measuring one realised it wouldn't fit into my car rental unless I also bought a roof rack, which I wasn't prepared to do.
With the Internet today you can do an exhaustive research on just about anything. I wasn't on the Net in 1991 and therefore everything I learnt standing day after day in the Gulf of Mexico was all just discovery...it was all new. I really had no expectations as I knew nothing. I knew there were Snook in Florida but I didn't know where they were or anything about their behaviour. And I often think that is a good thing for if I knew what flies to bring I wouldn't have gotten frustrated with refusals and bought and learnt how to throw a cast net. I wouldn't have discover the hard way that Snook have sharp gill plates and I wouldn't have lost so many fish which is also a good thing because it made landing the occasional one that much more of an achievement. If I had hired a guide, it would probably have gotten me into fish faster, maybe, but then what. If you get into fish too fast, and catch too many, then where do you go from there. I generally pack-up and drive home. If I struggle to catch, make mistakes, have to problem solve and think about it a lot, then I keep returning. When I think of these things, I'm always reminded of the saying, "No place worth going is easy to get to". It's so true.
One morning I discovered a nice Deli/Diner in Sarasota that served up a great blue plate special. Goodbye to breakfast at Denny's. I'd get there early and became a morning regular. The place smelled amazing and the food was even better. Usually I'd sit in a booth next to four retired guys who got together for breakfast every day. In Florida there is always four retired guys sitting around somewhere. These fellows were always kibitzing and laughing. They talked about the good old days when they were in business somewhere in the north east...New York, New Jersey...New Somewhere. Eavesdropping was great entertainment. One morning one of them looked at me and said, "You're getting too much sun". I told him I'd been fishing for two solid weeks out on Longboat Key. He asked me what I was fishing for? I replied, "Snook". He looked back at me and said, "What the Hell is a Snook!". His buddies howled.
I found Snook to be very powerful (like all saltwater species), acrobatic and challenging to catch. They reminded me of Smallmouth Bass in respect to how they fight. Like Bass they also gravitate to structure. What was so wonderful about this angling experience is that I was chasing them on a beautiful white beach and it was all sight fishing in clear shallow water. There was no expensive boat, no guide, no this, no that...It was pure simplicity: on foot, an 8wt and one fly.
Well I eventually got to my job interviews. I was offered a job in Jacksonville, thought about it for a week, but didn't take it. I often wonder what might have been if I moved to the Sunshine State. I might have become a grizzled old seaside Snook veteran: sweat stained ball cap, a gold front tooth clutching the mesh on my eight foot cast net, thread bare beach shorts, calloused feet, a weather beaten step ladder in tow and a back pack full of killer Snook flies. One life time is not enough.
If you want to beach fly fish for Snook I'd go in the late Spring or Summertime. That's when they seem to travel the barrier islands. Since my trip in 1991 I've discovered two good books on Snook: One by Frank Sargeant and another by Norm Zeigler, Snook on a Fly.
I never got back to fish for Snook again. I did return to Florida for a couple of vacations but that was family time and to escape Winter, and Snook don't seem to cruise the beaches then. They are elsewhere. The last several years I've been chasing Roosterfish on foot, in Baja, which has many similarities to what I experienced beach fishing in Florida. One day when it all comes together and the stars align, I'll find a cheap flight when the NBA playoffs are occurring, land in Sarasota, park where the Peacocks are and once again walk the beautiful beaches of the Gulf coast in search of Snook.
