Saturday, March 9, 2013


FRESHWATER FISHING--
Florida Style

After launching Joe's boat under a sparkling sunrise we headed across the twin reservoirs of Stick Marsh and Farm 13, 6,700 acres of freshwater near Fellsmere, FL some describe as "...one of the hottest bass lakes in the country during the past decade."

Joe is my neighbor and friend, Joe McNary, (above) uncovering the navigation console of his well equipped, Key West, 186 Bay Reef fishing boat; the numbers denoting the boat's 18' 6" length.

After a slicing ride across the smooth water surface Joe secured the 125 horse Yamaha engine and allowed the gentle wind to drift us across the surface, fine tuning our fishing location with his hefty, 82 pound thrust, electric motor.  We were fishing in about 4 feet of water with the bottom laced with stumps and wood debris from the days before the impoundment was created in1987; ideal cover for our quarry, the lake's noteworthy Largemouth Bass population.

As a newcomer's luck would have it I boated the first fish, a modest sized bass.  Joe soon followed with a much larger bass, then a fish similar to my catch--earning him the then position of having the largest and the most fish in the boat.

Since I had the first one, that made the score 2 to 1 in his favor.

Can you tell the competition was friendly, as it always is on such occasions.

About then something grabbed my artificial bait, a 5 inch rubber worm, and zoomed away making the drag on my reel sizzle.  Joe cleared other lines and maneuvered the boat, keeping me in an advantageous position while the very aggressive fish (or was it really a fish) crossed under our boat then around the stern and back toward open water--time after time--in search of its freedom.  (Photo above by Capt. Joe)

It was enormously strong but not violent in its escape attempt--similar to an experience I had had years ago when I hooked a fairly large turtle in Ohio's Knox Lake.

This battle went on for 10 minutes then 30 minutes with no let-up in sight.  At about 40 minutes of this aquatic tug-of-way I suffered a fouling of line on my light action spinning reel.  We continued the fight spooling and unspooling line--at the fish's discretion--as an hour of this battle approached.

Joe opined it could be a bowfin.  Whatever it was I was thinking of it as nuclear powered.

Then, the contest ended abruptly when my fouled line parted and the strain disappeared.

While I was enjoying some deep breathing exercises, Joe soon had something hit his artificial bait and while he reeled that fish toward the boat his bobber disappeared after another fish hit the shiner (live fish bait) on his unattended pole--immediately bending the rod holder down and sending his rod and reel flying into the water.

Joe instantly dropped his hand-held pole into the boat with a nice bass flopping around still hooked, while he and I turned our attention to recovering his pole which was disappearing toward the murky bottom.  Then, his bobber reappeared and while Joe maneuvered the boat I was able to catch the line under the bobber with his boat hook.

Joe held that line while I quickly unhooked the bass flopping on the deck and tossed it back into the lake then turned my attention to grabbing the tip of his rod which had reappeared in the murky water, finally pulling it free of the weeds and getting in safely back aboard.

In the middle of this commotion I announced our apologies to a nearby fisherman for encroaching on his area, explaining our attempt to retrieve our "stolen" rod.  He waved his forgiveness while Joe breathed a sigh of relief that his expensive rod and reel had been retrieved.

All this occurred in a lake where, nearly every time I looked I could see an alligator, often several, patrolling silently across the water; while rumbling sounds like distant thunder appeared to come from shorelines where Joe thought large male gators likely were defending personal territory.

By then it was past noon and dreams of a relaxing beverage began to dance in our heads.  Joe offered we should continue until the next fish was boated and I quickly agreed, and somewhat quickly, hooked another bass.

That made a fitting conclusion to our outing, I had the first and last fish and Joe scored the largest and the most in our unannounced and informal competition; resulting in an appropriate 2 to 2 tie.

We shared a smile and a fist bump in quiet celebration of our unforgettable day on the water while I also celebrated the fact Joe had invited me along.

  





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