Wow has it been a long winter, for me at least. I haven’t been able to do any fishing, and if able the weather doesn’t cooperate or I am fishing alone, which usually makes me stay home. To write a decent article seemed nearly impossible. Sure, I can write more about everything you have already heard; winter fishing tactics, tackle and boat maintenance in preparation for the spring, negative tides, etc. I really wasn’t feeling it; not at all. If I am simply putting words on paper it’s very obvious. It makes me feel good to write when I feel confident and am satisfied with what you are reading. If the writing is not well received, at least I put out an article that I am proud of.

So I’m racking my brain, beating my head against the wall, no creative juices flowing. What the heck can I write about that may separate me from the pack? It was imperative that I fish. Not just for a little relief from the busy workweek, but to possibly come up with something new to write about. Trying to find a fellow angler to fish with, I called and emailed a few people with no luck. My boat has been torn apart in the garage, waiting on some minor repairs to be done (that I have been putting off), and why put it back together unless I had someone on the boat besides myself? So to keep the better half happy, doing something around the house was the plan. There are no shortages of tasks to keep me busy there, unfortunately. I left the boat as is and went on with my weekend. 

On Sunday morning at about six, the phone rang. It was a good friend of mine, a very busy friend, who actually had some time to kick back and fish. We will call him “Jim”, as I am sure he will not want to be named. I doubt he has ever been on a forum, and doesn’t frequent fishing websites, but I will respect his privacy anyways. Born and raised in the Ruskin area, this was the angler that put me on my first snook and redfish, introduced me to saltwater fishing, and has a wealth of knowledge on practically all aspects of fishing Tampa Bay. Jim has forgotten more than I know, and I have a great respect for who he is and his beliefs. On the phone he said he accidentally let his registration lapse on his skiff and wanted to know if my boat was seaworthy. Really it is, I just had to reinstall a few parts and it was ready to go. Jim arrived to help me out with the boat and we left the house by nine.

The day started like any other. Listening to some tunes and drinking coffee on the short ride to the ramp, we discussed the day’s conditions and everything seemed to be in our favor, at least for the fish we were targeting. A major solunar at ten, great tide movement until one and the water not being too cold, we figured it wouldn’t be tough to use some shrimp and artificials to bring some trout and sheepshead to the boat.

Upon arrival at the ramp, we were surprised to see only one boat backing in. Cool, this would be painless. I guess it would have been painless, except for the fact that this small poling skiff was taking up the entire ramp, a ramp designed for two boats, if not three. Jim and I didn’t let this bother us, as it was only a couple of minute’s time before we had a chance to put in. Still, the boat ramp is that wide for a reason.

Off we go. My boat doesn’t draft too much water and with my buddy on board I knew we would be fine on this negative tide day. First on the agenda was bottom fishing while waiting on the tide to come in some more. We went to “old reliable”, a great rock pile near the shipping channel. Normally limiting out on snapper and putting some sheepshead in the box is no problem. Many different tactics and baits were tried with no luck, not even a bite. It was time to go. Our next stops were some great potholes on the flats outside of the famed South Shore sandbar that runs from Apollo Beach to the Port of Manatee. With the major feed approaching we were confident trout would be no sweat to catch. Well, after numerous lures and even live shrimp we hit a wall. Not a bite, not even a ladyfish. We were stumped.

While at one of the “trout spots” we spotted what had to have been a twenty one foot bay boat idling along in about eighteen inches of water, trimmed to the limit. Even in my boat I had a hard time maneuvering to the hole I was fishing but I managed without tearing up the grass. My boat is a seventeen. This boat had four people on board and a huge V hull. As the vessel got closer I could hear the motor taking in bottom as well as tearing up the grass. The driver of the boat got closer and closer. I could tell he was not experienced with our waters because he was surprised it was so shallow in the area. I could hear him saying so. He proceeds to get within about 10 yards from our boat and then turns around, missing all the deeper water and tearing up the grass even more. This boat was so close it would have been easy to have pitched my jig and smacked all four people on board before they had passed! This was very frustrating to say the least, as we were the only boat out there for hundreds of yards. What was this guy thinking? After that we were forced to move and try one more spot; to my surprise we had no action at all. The thought of a skunking was clear in our minds. At least I found new ways to get to these good potholes, as I know they will be holding fish in the future.

Heading north, we made our way to an area we had heard was holding redfish. After a thorough scouting of the area no fish were seen. Jim and I left the area. On this ride we made a move to the Little Manatee River, a totally different way I have ever been. I made a mental note of the location of the deeper water and will be using this time saving route in the near future. After we got off plane a decent sized group of snook was found (more like run over), some being rather large. For this time of year this was a welcome sight because according to logic, snook are not supposed to be there. The fish were all spooked and we knew it, so it was off to the docks. Using live shrimp and pieces of live shrimp, we hammered the docks for a good bit with no takers; none.

Totally discouraged, it was time for a beer. As we sat enjoying the cold barley beverages we contemplated the next move. The snook we saw earlier were our only hope. The tide was slowing down dramatically so time was of the essence. After our setup some large shrimp were pitched in the direction of the trough we found the linesiders in. No bites, no spooked shrimp, a skunking was inevitable.

It was time for one more spot, as we were reluctant to go home. This was really us being hard headed and wanting to have a couple more beers. Jim and I went to try a well known spot close to the ramp. We had caught nice fish there before. To reach our little “honey hole” it is imperative a certain route is taken because accessibility is an issue. A very large sand bar only leaves a small path to get in. After anchoring up, a last ditch effort was made. With no luck the rods were set in the holders and the towel was about to be thrown in.

By this time the stories had begun. The tales of good times at Shell Point Bait and Tackle before the ramp closed. Docks and seawalls were pointed out that Jim had built when he was younger as a worker, some still around and some now just pilings and rocks slightly under water. Stories were told of Jim and his father fishing in a Jon boat when he was a kid and of fishing years ago before the net ban. Fifty to one hundred fish days were common, even with the netters still in business. The days of very lenient slot limits on snook and larger bag limits years ago. His daily ritual of catching greenbacks and selling them to local bait shops, making good money, then being able to fish nearly every day of the week. Discussing the way the area has changed dramatically, how fewer fish are being caught, the closings and construction in the area over the years, and the now major fishing pressure that make the South Shore a parking lot of fisherman. We were having a great time.

Next thing you know we see the bay boat that had run up on us earlier in the day. Trying to get in where we were fishing the vessel got stuck on the bar. Rather than getting out and pushing, the boat owner decides to give the boat some gas in reverse, tearing up the motor and sand bar. After a good minute or two he is able to free up and is on his way. A short time later, a pontoon boat comes to the area. This boat could have easily drifted into the hole if trimmed up but for some reason that was not done. Stuck on the bar the boat is driven forward, surely filling the motor with sand. Jim and I sipped our beer and laughed. This was the most fun we’ve had all day! As the boat traffic had calmed down for the day we figured the fun was over. Wrong! Next contestant was a decked out Ranger bay boat. This thing was loaded with a trolling motor, jack plate, trim tabs, power pole, and a poling platform with what looked to be an eighteen foot push pole; the whole nine yards. Two guys and their young kids go motoring over the bar. The entire bar was crossed, yet with the Yamaha 250, destroying the bar and soon the water pump or even the motor. Not the trolling motor, not the push pole, not in the slightly deeper water to ten yards to the right. With that boat the possibilities are endless, why fish in this area anyways? Move to the area, go on a charter, buy the sixty thousand dollar boat, you’re a Captain right? The next boat that came by shortly after was the biggest of all. A huge bay boat with a large V hull comes riding in, the right way. No motor dragging, no pushing, right on in. This just goes to show; knowledge and common sense are key. Yellow is shallow water, darker water is deeper. Polarized sunglasses help too! After all the entertainment we pack it up and go home.

I know the old sayings. “A bad day fishing is better than a good day working”, or “at least we got out on the water” etc. Today I said this but really meant it. Sure I would have liked to catch some fish but this was a huge learning experience for me, more than most trips. Great stories were told and many laughs were had, mostly at others expense. I apologize that this “article” is more of a story with not much education value, even really a glorified fishing report, I just felt like writing it. Nothing exciting happened, no fish caught, just another day on the water that I felt most can relate to.

Until next time, see you on the water!