It was like a scene right out of “Life of Pi”. The moon was brighter than I have ever seen it in my whole life. I knew there was water on the flats but it was so calm and clear that it looked like there was none. Bioluminescence covered the flats with flashes of green glow. Shark fins and tarpon rolling all around the boat throughout the night. At one point I randomly looked at the sky and I was truly amazed with what I saw. 3 giant rocks with huge flames behind them shot across the sky…I’m pretty sure Dan was scared for his life. It really looked like something out of the movies. They were so low and moving slow with really bright fire. It lasted about 10 seconds. It was something I doubt I’ll ever see again. Read on for the fishing report…
As the title of my post states its been nothing but a down hill battle with Mother nature. Its been nothing but short of pretty but I have manage to work around the inclement weather patterns South Florida has been plagued with lately. I have had the chance to mix things up on the flats on a few instances searching for the ever so elusive ”tailer” on those rare calm mornings with a little tarpon fishing mix in the late hours of the night. On days that neither can be done I get my lazy ass off the computer from browsing the web and living vicariously through other peoples pictures and head over to the local lakes to soak a fly in front of a peacock basses face.
It hasn’t been pretty to say the least but I have had the opportunity to hit a hot tarpon bite with my buddy Chris a.k.a Kent has been on. Both nights we attempted to slay the Sliver we where plagued by one or the other Rain or blistering wind. On our first attempt we went empty hand but manage to tangle with a few of the local residents.
I have been fly fishing for carp a lot this spring, more than any other spring I can remember. My experiences have revealed a few new insights that previously went unnoticed. One particular weapon I have relied on time after time, is the slingshot cast. I have caught a myriad of species over the years utilizing this close quarters “cast,” but it was always done subconsciously. In the newer waters I have been fishing, carp can be taken a few feet from the bank, often in or around heavy cover. In these situations, I began to think more and more about perfecting the slingshot cast.
It started off as just a group of people with a common interest. Last summer, Jon Bull of Ankona Boats put together a small tournament for owners of Ankona Boat’s skiffs in the Tampa Bay area. Everyone met each other and had a blast. Ever since then, we have organized three hang out events for Ankona skiff owners on our own. First one was Flamingo, then it was Titusville, this time we all agreed on the Florida Keys.
It’s becoming a thing every few months. It’s not even really about the fishing, but the great times with the group of friends is what it’s all about.
The month of April in the Mid-Atlantic region brings a plethora of fishing opportunities. An angler can pursue trout under blanketing hatches mayflies and caddis, intercept shad running up river, or chase stripers just to name a few. I obviously didn’t do any of those things…
Their time had grown short. One hour. Two at most. Shadows had beset them. He craned his neck and peered up at the sky. Limpid blue and full of astringent afternoon light. He shielded his eyes against it. Hung near the meridian of its descent the sun was bleached with starry white and free of the burnt orange tarnish wrought by impending dusk. Not a cloud be seen riding across the vault. Save the miles long reef of billowing cumulus stretching from horizon to horizon hovering above them where they waited at the foot of the peninsula. He looked for breaks in the clouds. A seam had begun to open ahead them. Tunnels of light poured through and fell upon the water. A perfect facsimile of the trite, budgeted design used to evoke the divine. He smiled. With the light there might yet be one last chance to sight fish. True providence. He looked at her where she stood on the casting deck firing the topwater plug in long arcs at the muds blooming down range of the skiff. He swung the soft plastic bait screwed onto his hook towards himself. Space guppy. The gold fleck was dull in the flat light. He checked the hook point. Weedless where it lay just barely tucked back inside the plastic flesh of the shad tail. He let go with a long cast out towards 10 o’clock. The hiss of the bait entering the water was carried off and away by the blow careening out of the west. He turned the handle of the spinning reel over a half-dozen times and the bait stopped short in the water. He set the hook. The water boiled and there was a thrashing at the surface. Then the line went slack. He started reeling. There was a fluttering of the rod tip. The line jerked again. A yellow tail turned and slashed above the water. The tiny fork was unmistakable. He laughed. A small welter of froth erupted around the jack where it shook its head at the surface. This is the one, he said bringing the fish to hand. This is the fish I’ve been waiting for.
“Yeah that’ll work” says Capt.Bryan Elkins as we make our way under the bridge toward the gulf. He was talking about the shrimp fly i had in my hand after he had told me what we were about to do. Looking for Tripletails under the crab bouys off Little Gasparilla Island. We put the sun behind us and we ”ran the traps” heading north.
As my first post to the Skinnywater family I would like to introduce my self and thank everyone in SWC for giving me this opportunity to share my mis- adventures on the water. My name is Alex Tejeda and I reside in the fast pace metropolitan of Miami, FL. Been fishing since I can remember and primarily fish off my kayak now days prowling the flats for tailing reds, bonefish tarpon and anything that moves. As of lately I have become an avid fan of fly fishing thanks to Dan and Chris. Thanks Fellas!
Ok so lets get to the meat of this story. Like all epic stories begin I received a phone call from Chirs “Tex” telling me about the weather window and an opportunity to be able to fish an area far in the reaches of the Everglades. So of course I oblige and immediately make the arrangements and tell the j.o.b not expect me for the next few days. After discussions on what we should bring the day of reckoning had arrived. After picking up Dan Decibel we where on are way to the launch site. After meeting Tex we hit the water and off on a voyage we where. I think I could speak for everyone as we made our way to our destination are imagination ran rapid on the possibilities that laid before us.
Back in 2008, I got the wild idea that I wanted to get into fly fishing. I mentioned this to a friend, and he laughed in my face. He mentioned that he had an old fly rod in the shed that he had bought years before, but could never figure it out, and that it was not worth the hassel…..