August 9, 2014
Like the morning before, we woke up early and made sandwiches for lunch. We checked out of our room, grabbed a bite to eat at the continental breakfast, and headed for the Hawks Kay dock. We met our guide, Derek Rust, and set out at about 7:30 AM.
We motored quite a distance before stopping at the inlet to some mangrove canals. Derek rigged up a rod with a white jerk bait, hooked weedless. He explained how he would call where we were to cast as he poled us silently through the water. I got to fish first and stood on the raised front platform as he poled us into a canal. We were looking for tarpon rolling on the surface, eating baitfish. Seeing none, he had me cast to a place where he normally finds them. I slung the lure where he commanded, landing it on the edge of the brush line. A few twitches and a silvery streak darted out from the mangroves. Fish on! The 2 1/2 ft long tarpon fought hard and jumped several times, which I had to combat by dropping the rod tip every time he did. I got him to the boat as we poled to deeper water. One cast, one fish.
We left that mangrove spot after catching just one fish. Derek did this so as not to overfish the tarpon and keep them biting. We tried another area with my dad at the front. We didn't have any luck, but the mangrove area that we travelled through was intricate and intriguing. We drove over to another area and Derek had my dad cast by the mangrove brush line. To avoid catching the mangroves, my dad was casting about 5' or 6' short of the brush line. Derek said that wouldn't work, that catching the brush was part of the game. The next cast was spot on, landing off the edge of a dead limb. Like clockwork, a tarpon hit the lure! My dad got him to the boat but we were unable to get a picture, as the tarpon threw the hook when Derek tried to grab him. It had barely been 30 minutes and we had caught two great fish, we were off to a solid start.
We travelled to an area where Derek thought we could catch some bonefish or permit. Billy, the guide for the day before, was fishing that spot. So, since the tide was especially high, we fished a large grass flat, at the most 18" deep. Derek had heard of permit tailing on this flat with very high tides, though he had never seen it happen before. Nonetheless, he rigged up a strong rod for permit. Permit are what Derek lives to catch; on his own, he rarely targets anything else. He ran a circle hook through the side corner of a crab and laid the rod down on the front deck so that the crab hung in the water and stayed alive.
We poled through the shallow water, looking for fins and muddy water. We found several large rays foraging in the mud. My dad caught a 3' bonnet head shark near one of these rays. We kept fishing. All of a sudden, Derek told me to drop my rod and pick up the permit rod. Eighty yards away, two black tail fins protruded from the water as the fish nearly stood on their heads searching for food in the mud. We eased up to them until we were close enough to cast. My dad had said earlier that I would take the first shot at a permit if we were to find one. So, I stood at the front and fired the rod... miss. I reeled in the crab quickly and cast again... miss. Talk about buck fever, my aim was terrible. By all means, I should have spooked the skittish fish by now. I cast one more time. This one landed nearly on top of them, as intended. I reeled the crab a little and sparked a chase. The fish ate it! But, I tried to set the hook and pulled the crab right out of its mouth. You cannot set a circle hook in the typical fashion, it only pulls the hook out of the fish's mouth. Instead, the hook sets itself, but only under no pressure. Now, I certainly shouldn't have been given a third chance. Under any other circumstances, this dumb act would have sent the fish sailing for the Bahamas. However, this fish was adamant about having crab for breakfast and, to all of our surprise, the fish chased the crab again. Like a killer whale planing in shallow water after a harbor seal, the permit powered through the shallows, its head and eyes actually protruding out of the water. Only twenty-five yards away, the fish raced toward us as I followed Derek's command to keep reeling the crab. Then, at the last second, Derek told me to quit reeling. I stopped.
"He ate it!" shouted Derek. Taking extreme care to not pull the hook out of the permit's mouth. I lifted the rod and it bowed. Immediately, the fish tore off and smoked my reel's drag. We were all hootin' and hollerin'! Derek began to pole us to deeper water, telling is that this was not a "starter kit" permit. This was the real deal and I was in for a twenty minute battle at minimum. Sure enough, the permit lived up to its reputation. I have never fought a stronger fish. Countless times, he would unspool anywhere from 20 to 50 yards of line. Determined not to lose him, I concentrated on every motion I made, from the pressure I maintained on the fish to where I placed each step as I shuffled around the boat. At one point, he swam around the boat and nearly got the line hung on the 20' flats pole. I skirted around the 8" ledge of the boat and narrowly avoided the hazard. I then guided him around the motor and back to the front of the boat. I gradually gained more influence on the permit's actions. With only 10 lb braided line and a 20 lb fluorocarbon leader, I delicately negotiated his capture. Derek said he would only net him when his head was above the water. I tried multiple times to glide the fish to the boat with his head exposed. Twice, he got close and then made a dash, as Derek warned. On the third bout, Derek slid the net under the exhausted fish. WE CAUGHT HIM! High-fives were exchanged all around.
The permit measured 32" from nose to the fork in its tail, and about 40" to the tips of the forked tail. Derek estimated he weighted 30 lbs. Derek tagged him for the Florida Fish and Game Department. We then headed into shallower water. Derek unloaded his massive camera and we climbed into the water. He showed me how to best hold the fish and then began snapping pictures. I held the fish in the water between pictures. I kept a death grip on its tail. There was no way I was going to lose him now.
When the time finally came to release him, I didn't have to guide him back and forth through the water for very long before he ripped himself free of my hands. After a twenty-five minute fight, the permit still had more strength in him than I expected. We shared high-fives once more as we got back into the boat and left for the next destination. What an awesome fish!
At the next spot, we searched for a bonefish, attempting to complete a one-day Florida Grandslam (tarpon, permit, bonefish). Bonefish, like permit, are very wary and skittish. We spooked several with poor casts. We found a muddy area with some "bones" and three medium sized lemon sharks. We couldn't get anything to bite. We kept fishing. A little later, we came upon a little nurse shark and I dropped my 1/4 oz. skimmer jig and shrimp right off the edge of the boat and on his head. He ate it. Being only 2' long, the shark didn't pull out any line. I kept him in the water as my dad dropped his hook on another one. We had two sharks at once and had a good laugh at how easy it had been.
When we got the sharks off the line, we headed to a nearby mangrove island with some benches made from driftwood and a lobster pot. Here, we ate lunch in the shade before embarking on the second half of our day. We spent the rest of the day targeting bonefish. Derek put us on bones nearly everywhere we went. The problem was that my dad and I couldn't see them and our casts were nowhere near perfect. Generally, there was only one small school at each spot. When we spooked the school, our chances of getting a fish from that spot were less than slim. Derek did not hesitate to criticize our casting. Yet, he was also encouraging and critiqued us for our own good. My dad had a 6' shark take his lure, but he tried to set the hook so hard that he snapped the line. It happens.
We fished a total of eight hours that day; and, though we didn't get a Grandslam that day, we did get a Grandslam between the our two days of fishing. My dad got the bonefish, I got the permit, and we each got a tarpon. We finished our trip with some fly casting lessons near the dock and a couple beers before we departed. Derek Rust is the best fishing guide that my dad and I have ever had. For his youth, Derek is incredibly experienced and put us on tons of fish. I expect we would have caught many more fish had we been better at seeing the fish and casting correctly, two skills that take much practice. Derek told us that fly fishing makes it even more difficult. When fly fishing, you only get 3 false casts to unspool 80' of line and must be deadly accurate. He mentioned that you have done outstanding if you fish 365 days in a year and catch 50 permit on a fly. In his opinion, there is no fish more difficult to catch on a fly than a permit.
We left the marina and drove back toward Miami. Every hotel in the keys was booked for Lobster Fest, so we grabbed dinner at a waterside restaurant and then drove to Miami. I slept the whole way and was glad to finally climb into bed, if only for a little while.
More cruisin'; Dad and Derek
No comments:
Post a Comment