Pine Island Sound will never be the same.
When we started coming to the cottage nine months ago our fishing equipment was limited, our knowledge of fishing was limited and consequently, our success was even more limited. Fishing in saltwater is a far cry from the cool Northern lake fishing we were accustomed to.
While we were certainly not expert fishermen up north, we could not have even been classified as beginners down here. I have killed more live shrimp than the Gulf oil spill and have snagged too many lures and bobbers to count in the mangroves and even lost more than one fishing pole to the bottom of the sea. All the while I was gathering fish recipes for the dozens of fish we intended to catch each weekend. For many months we fed the fish or continued to catch the same 10 inedible fish over and over again, some of them even missing their lips now. I only wish I were joking, it’s sad really.
We certainly don’t have the proper collection of equipment yet and continue to have a severe knowledge deficit but are moving in the right direction. Months of fishing information gleaned from the internet proved to be useful for other novices as evidenced by their comments of praise but never actually worked for me. Maybe too advanced for someone of my caliber. I’m not sure, but it never produced the promised results.
A cube neighbor of mine stopped in recently to check in on our fishing escapades. A few moments after our conversation Rachel returned to my cube with a list of instructions titled How to Catch Spotted Sea Trout or something of the like. In true trainer fashion (we are both EPIC trainers) she had created a step by step tutorial on how to catch sea trout. Rachel handed it to me and then proceeded to explain, in great detail what to buy, how to set up the pole, when to go out (this involved her I-phone tide app), where to go, how to get there (this took some convincing and a few Google maps), what type of bait to buy, how to keep the bait alive (we struggle with this), what to do when we arrive, how to bait the hook, how to set (or not set) the hook, how to take the fish off, what to do if we catch something scary (think shark or stingray), what to do with the fish we want to eat, how to clean the fish, and several options on cooking the fish. Men don’t give fishing advice like this and certainly not on the internet. Every term was explained and it was assumed that I knew nothing. This is where all other advice had gone wrong, they assumed I had some basic fishing knowledge… WRONG!!! I carefully saved my little piece of paper with more confidence and clarity than I had ever had regarding salt water fishing. It was foolproof. With these secrets it would be statistically impossible not to catch the elusive (maybe not for some, but elusive to us) spotted sea trout.
As we headed out for our first complete (all of us in the boat) family trip last weekend, I clung to the crumpled piece of memo paper that included all of the precious directions.
Meandering through the mangroves in itself is daunting, but avoiding the oyster beds (something we have failed to do in the past) was the real accomplishment. We carefully followed Rachel’s map and I felt a sense of relief anytime we passed a land mark she had made mention of.
The boys demolished the picnic lunch I had prepared about 7 minutes into the boat ride. I had envisioned fishing for a bit and then breaking to have a bite a bit later in our adventure. I was not surprised or disappointed though as they tore through 8 PBJ sandwiches. Rachel made no mention of how many PBJ’s to pack. A slight failure on her part, although in her defense she does not have any children. Nonetheless, this will need to go on her record as an oversight. She has very few so I keep careful track.
It’s always helpful to have someone to hang on to you when the boat is moving quickly. Petey is pretty used to his handler by now and usually lets this sort of thing go on without a fight.
For the record, Rachel should be a fishing guide if things don’t work out with IT. Her advice was spot on. We not only caught a spotted trout, we caught so many I lost track.
Gavin and Tommy are a bit more timid around flopping fish, but the little boys have no fear. They insist on touching each and every one that we hauled up. During my Monday morning post weekend fishing debriefing with Rachel, she explained that this is why several of the fish we threw back didn’t survive. They need the water, she explained. Oh… noted.
We didn’t fish for an incredibly long period of time but in the couple hours we were out, we managed to have quite a bit of action. I was in charge of tying the bait bucket to the side of the boat. My expert knot skills failed relitively early on which resulted in having to chase it down a drifting bait bucket and re-tether it. Other notable events included Gavin snagging his line in the mangroves which involved me tangling with the mangroves, one little boy almost falling overboard while riding the side of the boat as though it were a horse, one fish falling between the seat cushion in a slimy chase, the entire boat being labeled with Christmas gift tags (you know the to and from ones) and we running into 2 different people we knew. It’s a gigantic ocean, who sees people they know???
I was the self proclaimed fishing champion although this was confirmed by a boatful of little boys that were so impressed with my expert skills. It may have something to do with the odds being stacked. You see, since I have taught the boys how to bait my hook and have Scott to remove every fish I snag, I have a baited line in the water far more than anyone else on the boat. I even offer to hold Scott’s baited pole in the water for him while he removes and re-baits mine. Scott announced early on the trip that the first to catch of the day earns $2 and the largest fish of the day earns $1. This produced instant tears and attitude as I reeled in the first fish. The boys are incredibly competitive and offering a bounty was really not necessary I reminded Scott on the way in. He explained it was tradition growing up with his uncles fishing the lakes up North. I reminded him that these very same uncles also made him eat a worm and made him swim in on more than one occasion when he tired of fishing.
Petey was impressed or disgusted by the rather ugly front teeth on the sea trout and the fish seemed to reflect the same thought.
Although not a trout, this guy was an instant favorite, because he matched the boat of course.
This was my pride and joy. He was 18 inches long although I swear if I had someone older than 7 holding the tape measure (yes, the actual tape measure from the garage) I could have stretched him out to 20. I’m trying to be conservative to make up for the rest of the boat and their fish stories. They went out earlier in the week without me and stories of several hits from a shark and Scott catching a tarpon were exchanged and exaggerated as the week went on.
The fact that we actually caught them was probably more of a testament to Rachel’s expert teaching ability than to our actual fishing skills. Pine island Sound was once a serene, well stocked fish refuge…
That is, until that day that Rachel stepped into my cube with the instructions on how to become hooked on an incredible hobby that will no doubt change our weekends forever.
