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Port Canaveral Fishing Report

October 12, 2013 by · Leave a Comment

Port Canaveral Fishing Report

Upcoming Events-

Mosquito Lagoon Show and Tell Fishing Seminar, October 26


Mosquito Lagoon On-the-Water Show and Tell Seminar, October 27

First Coast Fly Fishers meeting, November 4

Indian River Lagoon Paddle Adventure starts December 1. Paddle the length of the lagoon with us!

 

The forecast for Tuesday was NW at 5-10, seas 2-3 feet. I went out of Port Canaveral in the Mitzi. The forecast was not exactly correct. The seas were at the limit of the Mitzi’s capabilities. I got exactly one crevalle before turning around and bagging it.

Wednesday after the colonoscopy I was too wrung out to do much of substance. Regular readers may have read about this long canoe trip Rodney Smith and I (and others!) will be taking in December. The Coleman stove came out for testing, since we’ll need it and it hadn’t been used in several years.

After oiling the pump that baby started right up.

I then went into the cook kit to see what was in there. As strange as it might seem it was like reuniting with an old friend.

A long time ago I lost my favorite camping spoon on Cape Sable while on a canoe trip. As stupid as it was I almost went into mourning over that spoon. For years I looked for another one just like it without success.

A fan took me out to dinner at an Italian restaurant in Somerset NJ while I was at the Fly Fishing Show. To my joy that restaurant had my spoon. I told the guy about losing my other one and said I was taking one, which I put in my pocket. Then I started feeling guilty. “I’m 53 years old, I shouldn’t be stealing silverware from a restaurant.” So I put it back on the table, and left with a clean conscience.

My friend gave me a ride back to the hotel. When I got out of the car he had a present for me- he had stolen the spoon.

It was in my cook kit, along with a cooking pot I bought in LaPaz and many other treasures filled with memories. It was like opening a time capsule.

I am so looking forward to that canoe trip.

 

Thursday I took a long bike ride through the state forest by the Econlockhatchee River. It was glorious. The river was still a little high but has dropped a lot. It looked good.

 

Friday I went out of Port Canaveral with Steve Butrym and his nephew Steve. It was a gorgeous day. The water was pretty dirty in most places, cleanest in the Bight.

We ran down the beach all the way to Satellite Beach without finding any bait. Once there I caught a single Spanish mackerel.

We headed east and went out four or five miles looking for anything that might indicate fish, heading north and heading past Cape Canaveral. We found nothing.

At that point we got close to the beach again. The water was close to nasty, very dirty. Once we cleared the tip of the Cape it cleaned up a little. I netted about 15 mullet and we started casting them into the surf. We got exactly two small jacks.

The bluefish ought to be nuisance thick right now, and there should be all kinds of fish in the surf. There wasn’t much bait, and there were hardly any fish. Is the mullet run over already??

That is this week’s not-so-exciting version of the Port Canaveral Fishing Report.

Life is great and I love my work!

Life is short. Go Fishing!

John Kumiski
http://www.spottedtail.com

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2013. All rights are reserved.

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Mosquito Lagoon Fishing Report, Indian River Lagoon Fishing Report, Banana River Lagoon Fishing Report

September 22, 2013 by · Leave a Comment

Mosquito Lagoon Fishing Report, Indian River Lagoon Fishing Report, Banana River Lagoon Fishing Report

What a week! A Harvest moon and the autumnal equinox, too! Both have an effect on the fishing.

mosquito lagoon fishing report

A moon like this affects the fishing for better or worse.

Upcoming Events-

Mosquito Lagoon Show and Tell Fishing Seminar, October 26

Mosquito Lagoon On-the-Water Show and Tell Seminar, October 27

Indian River Lagoon Paddle Adventure starts December 1. Paddle the length of the lagoon!

Mosquito Lagoon Fishing Report– On Tuesday son Alex and I went to the Mosquito Lagoon, getting a late start because I had to see the hygienist first. While it was a beautiful day (the weather has been awesome) as far as catching fish went we might as well have stayed home. We saw maybe ten redfish, all a rod’s length away, and did not get a shot.

Indian River Lagoon Fishing Report– Thursday Scott Radloff and I went to the Indian River Lagoon. After a short boat ride we saw diving birds. Breaking fish, one of fall’s pleasures. Ladyfish, bluefish, and gafftopsail catfish were in the mix. Nothing too thrilling there but it was certainly a fun way to kick off the day.

The new power station in Port St. John is up and running now. There are lots of ladyfish there. Didn’t see anything else.

Went for a ride and ended up poling miles of shoreline. There were enough slot reds to keep it interesting. The fish were spooky and it was a long time before we convinced one to bite. We ended up getting four on DOA CAL shad tails rigged weedless on a worm hook. One was a gorgeous thirteen spot fish.

Banana River Lagoon Fishing Report– Friday I went to the Banana River Lagoon, breaking out the kayak to do so. I hadn’t been in a kayak in months and it was great to be paddling again. I learned (again!) that stupid stuff can happen to you at any time.

Two hours or so of paddling were under my belt before I saw anything other than lots of mullet. Excited for having seen a redfish, I anchored the boat and got out to wade. The wind was blowing a little too hard to fish effectively from the boat.

The fish were not thick, but they were good sized. I had several poor shots and two good ones. None of the fish took the fly, which got changed a few times.

Working my way back to the kayak, I tied the painter to myself and kept wading, towing the boat behind me. Shots at fish continued coming sporadically, and I finally fooled one with a small grizzly Seaducer. I photographed myself with the fish. I should have noticed at that point that my paddle was gone but it did not register.

Banana RIver Lagoon fishing report

The lone biter of the entire affair.

After wading another hour or so without any more bites the clouds got thick enough I couldn’t see any more. The atmosphere was telling me it was time to bag it. I ate lunch, reeled in the fly line, and went to paddle back. Now I noticed the paddle was gone.

Crap. I had three or four miles to go. At least the wind was out of the north-northeast.

Human hands make lousy kayak paddles.

The wind blew the boat along at about one mile an hour, putting me back at the chariot about 4 PM. Fortunately the weather was still beautiful, and other than losing a nice Aqua Bound paddle it had been a wonderful day with a nice redfish on fly as a bonus.

Indian River Lagoon fishing report

I think I will tether my paddle while wading from now on, though.

Indian River Lagoon Fishing Report, Again– Saturday fly fisher DJ Montigny joined me for a 3/4 day. He had never caught a fish in saltwater before, so we went to the power plant and knocked that right out. Two regrets- the ladyfish were dinks, and there were no tarpon there.

After 30 minutes DJ had had enough of the little ladyfish. We went looking for redfish. It took us most of an hour but we found big ones, enough to keep us entertained for the rest of the day.

We couldn’t find a fly they would bite.

They were exhibiting strange behavior, swimming quite rapidly most of the time, but circling through the same area repeatedly. We found and lost a sizeable school. Other than that they were in small groups, from pairs to a half dozen. We saw a lot of fish in the 20-30 pound range.

DJ had some great shots and by all rights should have had three or four bites. We also saw a big school of crevalle and in an almost-unheard-of situation did not get a bite from them either.

If it hadn’t been for those dink ladies we would have gone fishless.

I think the full moon boogered up the fish this week. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

That is this week’s exciting version of the Mosquito Lagoon Fishing Report, Indian River Lagoon Fishing Report, and Banana River Lagoon Fishing Report.

Life is great and I love my work!

Life is short. Go Fishing!

John Kumiski
http://www.spottedtail.com

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2013. All rights are reserved.

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Tarpon Fishing Report

May 4, 2013 by · Leave a Comment

Tarpon Fishing Report

Monday morning my alarm clock went off at 4 AM. I turned it off, thought about going back to sleep. I had a sore throat, never a harbinger of a bright, rosy day. But I told Ricky I’d be there so I got up, did what I had to do, and hit the road.

Thoughts of Kim swirled in my head as I drove. She’d looked so good last time I saw her. Now she’s fighting for her life? It wasn’t right. Didn’t make sense. Along with the sore throat it colored my mood a somber shade.

I pulled into Ricky’s driveway at nine o’clock. We had to go to the vet before we could fish. Danae’s cat is diabetic and they needed syringes for the insulin injections. When we got back to Rick’s he hooked up the boat and we were finally off.

tarpon fishing report

This guy wants a handout.

The first spot we checked was a laid-up tarpon spot. There were a few fish there and I had a couple shots, crossing a streamer in front of their scaly faces. No eaters, though.

Clouds showed up, always a great help when tarpon fishing. Being facetious there, folks. We made a run to another spot, anchored the boat.

Fish started showing up immediately. Sometimes we could see them well, sometimes not very well at all, depending on how the clouds were configured at that moment, depending on where they were in the water column. None of them made any attempt to eat my fly.

Rick had a brand new rod. He asked me if I minded if he tried it. Heck, no, I didn’t mind. I’m out in his boat, using his expertise. Fish away, bud!

He rigged it up, got on the bow of the boat. A single fish came along. He throws to it. It eats. WTF? I can’t get a sniff and he hooks up on the first cast? I must be way more rusty than I thought.

tarpon fishing report

Rick hooked the first fish he threw to.

But that’s how the day ended, one bite for Ricky, none for Johnny. Try again tomorrow.

Tuesday we again went to the laid-up tarpon spot. Again I had a few shots and again no one was interested in my streamer. Yes, my throat was still sore. Definitely not at 100 percent.

tarpon fishing report

How can you not love these fish?

We again made the run to the other spot, anchored the boat.

The fish did not show up immediately. We didn’t see any for three hours. I put a different streamer on. Ricky said what Ricky says. “They’re not gonna eat that.” Like the fish can tell his flies from mine…

tarpon fishing report

The clouds make seeing the fish much more difficult.

A pair of fish come. I throw my fly out there. One of the fish gets behind it, follows it ten feet or so. The bite comes. I set up. The line goes slack. The Hufnagle has come apart, something that had never happened before. Ricky rags on my knots, my leaders. New stuff has come along while I wasn’t paying attention. OK, I’ll learn the Slim Beauty. Just not at this moment.

I tie on a Cousin Itt. It feels like I’m trying to cast a raccoon. It doesn’t sink very well. But here comes some fish. I’m throwing it out there.

A tarpon comes up for the fly in an explosive surface strike. I react with a trout fisherman’s rod pull, popping the fly right out of the mouth of the fish. The strike was amazing, my response considerable less so.

Some fish come around the back of the boat. Rick gets a bite, can’t come tight. The fish shakes off.

Rick gets another shot a few minutes later, sticks the fish well. The fish takes off, the line goes slack. The fly line has broken.

tarpon fishing report

Yes, tarpon can break things.

The sun gets low. The fish stop coming, or maybe we just can’t see them any more. At any rate I am completely drained. We call it. Try again tomorrow.

tarpon fishing report

These clouds moved in carrying rain. They hung around for days.

The next morning a storm system moves in. We call it before the boat leaves the yard. The ride home is in the rain the whole way. It rains for the next three days.

I visit the doctor. I have a fever and a respiratory infection. No, I wasn’t at 100 percent. But I’m going back to try those fish again.

And that is this week’s exciting version of the Tarpon Fishing Report.

Life is great and I love my work!

Life is short. Go Fishing!

John Kumiski

Home- Spotted Tail Outdoors and Travel

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2013. All rights are reserved.

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Redfish- Presenting the Fly

April 17, 2013 by · Leave a Comment

This is an excerpt from the book, Redfish on the Fly, by Capt. John Kumiski 

Redfish- Presenting the Fly

Redfish- Presenting the Fly
It was a redfish fisher’s dream, a school of at least 500 fish, swimming fast, up on top, crashing bait all around us, one of the finest sights in all of angling, and one that one doesn’t see very often in the Mosquito Lagoon. Rob Ricks was trembling with excitement. He had caught exactly one redfish on fly in his life, and badly wanted another. It was practically certain that the deed would now be done.

“Cast out in front of them, and just make it look alive,” I told him. Rob was a weak caster. When he got the fly in the water, not very far away, there was so much slack in the line that the cast was useless.

“Try it again,” I said. “Lead them, put it where they’re going and let them swim into it.” Rob tried again with the same result. And again, and again, and again. Finally the fish disappeared. We’d caught exactly none.

The moral to this story? Your casting must be second nature in order to take advantage of opportunities, especially once in a lifetime opportunities like this one was. But it’s a great segue into this section’s premise- after locating the fish, how you present the fly to them is the single most important variable in getting one to bite, much more important than what’s at the end of your leader.

The Strike Zone
When I was younger and just getting into saltwater fly fishing, I was fortunate to get a copy of the finest instructional fishing video ever made, the late Billy Pate’s Fly Fishing for Tarpon (which I recommend highly). In this video Billy explains the concept of strike zones as it relates to tarpon fishing. We’re going to revisit this concept and then relate it to presenting the fly to redfish- cruising fish, laid-up fish, and tailers.

The strike zone is an area around the fish where, if the fly is properly presented, you have a reasonable chance that the fish will take it. This area is roughly shaped like a half a football, extending with the wide part at the mouth of the fish to the apex out in front of it. Since their mouths point down, redfish prefer to feed down, but they show little hesitation in coming up for a fly unless they are heavily fished or have been disturbed by boat traffic.

Understand that the strike zone changes in size constantly though, going from non-existent to huge and back again, and occasionally even goes behind the fish. Over the years I’ve seen a few fish do about faces to take a fly. It’s rare, but it does happen. Our assumption here is that in order to get a bite, the fly must be in the strike zone.

Hopefully it’s obvious that the longer the fly is in that strike zone, the more likely the fish is to take it. This brings us to presentation angles.

Read the rest of the article here, or  buy the book!

John Kumiski
http://www.spottedtail.com

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2013. All rights are reserved.

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How the Redfish Told the Story

April 12, 2013 by · Leave a Comment

hot the redfish told the story

How the Redfish Told the Story

– Guest Blog by David Caprera

“So I was cruising the bank of South Cedar Island looking for some breakfast after a late night at the Oyster Bar.  Maybe some shrimp cocktail or a mullet on toast.

“Along comes one of those crazy kayaking fisherman.  And a fly fisherman, they’re the worst.  All pompous and snooty with their Sage Rods and Abel Reels; ‘Hey look at me guys, I’ve got $1000 in fancy gear.’ Well, of course I hear him coming from a quarter of a mile away, banging his paddle on the side of the kayak and all.  Now normally I would just swim away but this morning I wanted to teach him a lesson.

“I continued feeding as he paddled to within about 60 feet.  For fun, I ducked down to the bottom and sat in the mud for a minute, just to piss him off, but then popped back up. He proceeded to cast, too many backcasts, but after an eternity he threw a fly into my part of the ocean.  It landed with the usual alarm bell plop to make sure that it was a fake.  One of those black rabbit worms that look like nothing I would ever want to eat.

“I tailed on his fly and he strip struck me.  At least he wasn’t as stupid as some of those northern trout fishing types, lifting their rod tip.  And this is where it gets good.

“I grabbed the rabbit tail between my lips, carefully avoiding the hook and proceeded to swim around like I had been fooled. After a minute or so, I had had enough exercise for the morning so I swam toward the kayak to within about 15-20 feet. The fisherman was holding his rod tip high creating a large bend in the rod. With utmost precision I brought my head to the surface, took aim, executed a perfect bow and arrow cast, and hit the fisherman with his own fly square in the forehead.

“Yeah, I really did.”

David Caprera was an attorney in a former life. He amuses redfish and sometimes humans in his spare time now. This is his second guest blog for the spotted tail.

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2013. All rights are reserved.

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The Art of Fibbing

April 2, 2013 by · Leave a Comment

The Art of Fibbing- A Guest Blog By Tammy Wilson

 

the art of fibbing

Any angler worth their salt knows the value of a good fib. It’s the difference between a skunking and an 8-pound bluegill, after all. It’s how a 10-inch brook trout becomes a 20 incher over the course of an afternoon, and a world record over the course of a lifetime. It’s what makes a slot sized redfish a trophy bull when the story is retold over the campfire.

There’s a definite art to the yarn, and some folks don’t give that fact enough credit. Some don’t understand the fine nuances, the unspoken rules or the definite boundaries that go along with a really great fish story. Amateurs may delve right in with stories of a 700 pound black drum that got away down at the inlet when any seasoned story teller will readily admit it’s a known fact black drum don’t grow over 539 pounds.

An experienced angler knows to truly appreciate the one that got away. The one that was caught and witnessed or photographed or seen by the angler is a fish with a diminished potential for growth. The lost fish, on the other hand, has an uncanny almost otherworldly ability to morph into astonishing sizes. Some of these growth spurts take only mere hours, while some grow indefinitely, depending on how many times the incident is rehashed squared by the amount of single malt scotch gone from one’s flask.

Before mastering the distortion of truth, it’s equally important anglers keep buried in the recesses of their brains an entire library of excuses and be able to conjure seven to nine of them up at any given time. Fast thinking and the ability to keep said excuses neatly organized depending on method and location of fishing is crucial. One simply cannot have caught any trout on the stream because the tide was all wrong, after all.

The invention of the digital camera has really taken away from the art of fibbing in a drastic and sad way. The ability to CPR (catch, photograph, release) a catch has taken imagination right out of the fishing tale. Immediate proof with the ability to instantly show off one’s catch on the World Wide Web if one chooses has cut into the fine moral fabric of the fish tale. It’s why in most cases, the dog ate my camera, the batteries were dead, I left it in my car and I hit the wrong button.

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2013. All rights are reserved.

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Paddleboard Fishing in Mosquito Lagoon

March 19, 2013 by · Leave a Comment

Paddleboard Fishing in Mosquito Lagoon

An email led to my going paddleboard fishing in Mosquito Lagoon today.

My host, or I should say my gracious host, Tim Baker, is principal at East Coast Paddle. Before we went fishing Tim explained his company’s focus to me:

-first, they build the world’s highest quality paddleboards in Edgewater, supporting 15 families right here in central Florida;
-they build various types of paddleboards for fishing, surfing, and ecotouring;
-they are a paddleboard service company, providing guided fishing, guided ecotours, and rentals;
-they give paddleboarding instruction to everyone using their services.

Tim has a specially built pontoon boat he uses to transport paddleboards and paddleboarders to the destination at which their activity will take place. I stepped on and off we went.

paddleboard fishing in mosquito lagoon

Tim Baker with his paddleboard transport vessel.

As he was explaining the hows and whys of paddling a paddleboard, Tim took note of the fact that the wind (at 10 to 15 out of the south) was really a bit strong for paddleboard fishing. Having been forewarned, I hopped on the board.

I was a little shaky at first, for all of 30 seconds. Then it was fine.

Like any smart paddler, Tim went upwind first. He chugged right along. I got on my knees to lower my wind resistance.

Tim looking for fish from his paddleboard.

Tim looking for fish from his paddleboard.

I saw a redfish tailing in a lee. On the approach I hit the board with the paddle. The fish stopped tailing. You still need to be quiet.

We paddled upwind a while. Tim told me ordinarily they drop the fishermen off with a guide, then move the big boat to a position downwind. That way the paddleboarders never have to fight against the wind.

It was windy, and we sailed. Always the sight fisher, I looked for fish to which I could cast. Tim opted to just cast into potholes. His strategy worked better, as he caught the only fish we got.

Paddleboard Fishing in Mosquito Lagoon

Tim got this trout from his paddleboard.

I could see the potential for stealthy fish stalking when weather conditions were favorable were enormous. A paddleboard is a quiet, maneuverable platform from which you can silently approach wary fish.

Tim said big tarpon from the board were his favorite target. I can only imagine how exciting that must be.

Tim has made a video about paddleboard fishing for redfish in Mosquito Lagoon which you can find here http://youtu.be/Q7y5sUOfRYs .

After watching it I’m more than ready to go try paddleboard fishing  in Mosquito Lagoon again.

For more information about East Coast Paddle, or to inquire about a paddleboard trip, call Tim at 407.406.0742, or visit the website at East Coast Paddle.

Paddleboard Fishing in Mosquito Lagoon

Loading the board after the trip.

Life is short. Go Fishing!

John Kumiski
http://www.spottedtail.com

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2013. All rights are reserved.

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the everglades- an excerpt

March 12, 2013 by · Leave a Comment

the everglades

the everglades john kumiski

First Trip

My first trip to the everglades was a five-day canoe trip in March 1980. A friend from Massachusetts and I drove down for spring break. We dropped the boat into Coot Bay Pond and paddled to Cape Sable, then back to Flamingo. I think we saw four other boats during that time. It was a wild, unforgiving place- hot, no fresh water, bad bugs, hellish sun. There was no one around. If you had a problem you were on your own.

I loved it.

The birds were incredible. We caught a chunky fish with a big spot near its tail. We didn’t know what it was but we ate it. It was good.

the everglades john kumiski

the birds were incredible

We left the Joe River chickee at dawn one morning. We had to catch the last of the tide to the Gulf. We got to the mouth of Little Shark River just after sunrise, at almost dead low tide. Tarpon rolled everywhere. I’d never seen one before. Each fish we saw just added to the magic and excitement of the moment.

Three hit my Rebel. Of course, all jumped right off. It was a watershed moment for me in my fishing career, simply a spectacular, unexpected, amazing event.

In spite of all the fish we had to keep going. There were many miles left.

When we got to middle Cape Sable there was a small aluminum skiff beached there. The lone fisherman walked the beach, casting. Not much was said at first.

The moon must have been at the right phase because the current ran so hard off the point that a whirlpool had formed. You didn’t need to be Joe Brooks to know that fish were there. I cast a jig over and over but did not get a bite.

Read the rest at http://johnkumiski.com/the-everglades/

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John Kumiski
http://www.spottedtail.com

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2013. All rights are reserved.

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Canoeing in Maine

February 8, 2013 by · Leave a Comment

Canoeing in Maine- A Memoir

Prologue

Jim bought the canoe- an Old Town Tripper. I believe he came up with the idea to go to Maine, too, a great idea. It gave meaning to life- something to look forward to besides the day-to-day grind of grubbing for grades, wondering about where the next buzz was coming from, and the usually spectacularly unsuccessful personal get-together attempt with that cute freshman co-ed in history class. Let’s face it- school was a bitch.

canoeing in maine

 

Down River

We always got up early to beat the wind, to see more wildlife, to be out at a beautiful time of day, and so we could knock off shortly after noon. The fact that we went to sleep as soon as it got dark may have had something to do with it, too. Anyway, it paid off handsomely one magical morning.

We were on the river shortly after sunrise. Mist was rising off of the water, and the grouse were drumming, sounding like distant artillery. We simply sat in the canoe, motionless, listening and looking, soaking it all in, letting the river carry us.

Some movement up ahead on the bank caught my eye. A lovely young woman, dressed only in a man’s dress shirt, was at the river’s edge getting water. She never became aware of our presence until I murmured, “A woodland nymph … ”

Startled, she looked up, then smiled at us. She was so beautiful it hurt. I wanted to marry her then and there, I was so in love. But the river carried us inexorably onward, and the moment passed.

Read the rest here…

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Tamlet Pitched a Fit- by Tammy Wilson

December 26, 2012 by · Leave a Comment

Flyfishing, etching by

A Guest Blog by Tammy Wilson

Once upon a time, in a land very, very near to where I sit writing this, a wee little Tamlet pitched a fit. It was a great fit. It was the kind of fit only a five or six year old girl can pitch. It was beautiful, something to behold as far as fits go. I was pissed.

My two older brothers, also known as the monsters, were in Grandma’s back yard, on the edge of the lake. They were fishing.  I didn’t know a single thing about fishing. I only knew that the monsters were doing it, they were having fun, and I wasn’t. That simply would not do. I had asked them if I could fish with them, but as the monsters always did, they said no. They said girls don’t fish. Then they said the one thing that was pretty much going to guarantee that I was GOING to do this fishing thing… they said I “couldn’t”.

Since I was a wee little Tamlet, that word has been a trigger. Don’t tell me I can’t do something. You may as well be daring me to do it. I’ve always been the kind of person who will not only do it out of spite, I’ll show you fifty ways that I CAN do it. It’s not always a good trait to have.

The monsters had said no. And then they had gone so far as to dare me. I couldn’t beat them up, the monsters were big… so I did the one thing that any five or six year old girl knew how to do. I pitched a fit. Not two minutes later my father was yelling at the monsters to let their little sister fish and I was standing there with my tongue hanging out. I had won! Ha! Take that.

And so the monsters did the same thing they did every time that happened. They let me fish. They didn’t show me how, they didn’t help. Oh no. They simply just stopped keeping me from it. I had been watching, though, and I thought I could pull this off. I found myself a good stick, and took it in the house and my father tied a piece of line on it and stuck a hook on the end. The monsters had some bread out there and so I grabbed a piece off the table and I was out there in no time.

It took a little while to figure it out. The monsters were letting no secrets out. I had NO idea how to put the bread on the hook. I used that first piece of bread in about ten minutes and had to go in for more. I knew better than to pitch another fit. As a master of the fits, I knew you could only use them so often, or they lost their effectiveness. I was not a stupid child.

Eventually the monsters got tired of watching my failure and went off to do something else. I’m sure I wanted to do whatever it was they were doing, but I knew that I had been as much as dared to catch a fish at that point and that I could not stop until that mission was accomplished. Oh the tongue sticking out I was going to give them! If only I could figure it out.

Lucky for me, bluegill aren’t smart fish, or very hard to catch. I finally somehow managed to screw up and actually catch one. I was so proud of myself. I had done it! I had done it all by myself and I sure showed those monsters. But when I did show my beautiful catch to them, they laughed. Smallest fish they’d ever seen they said. They howled in laughter. They knew something else I didn’t know. I had to get that fish off the hook. After poking myself several times and freaking out over the moving slimy fish on the end of my line on my stick, I finally had to walk it inside where the grown-ups were sitting and have someone take it off. That poor fish didn’t survive.

That poor fish, though, wasn’t the only thing hooked that day. I was hooked. I had learned that there were living things under that water. I had learned that you could actually catch them. I put another dough ball on that hook and bam! Another fish. I hauled that one out of the water and this time when I stuck my tongue out at the monsters they didn’t laugh. It was huge by “Grandma’s Lake” bluegill standards. That was it. That was the end of my sweet little girl days.

Another monster had been born that day. From that day forward, it was always about the fishing. Oh occasionally I’d have to do something else the older monsters were doing. I spent my fair share of time in the woods sitting with my sack waiting for snipe to run into it. Didn’t matter to me, though. I had shown the monsters, and I was going to keep showing them. Spite is as good a reason as any to go fishing, really.

Tammy Wilson, a talented fly fisher and writer, lives in Cocoa. This is her second guest blog with us.

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2012. All rights are reserved.

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