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Date: Gracie
Title: April 5, 2004
Date: 06 Apr 2004
Time: 23:18:45 -0400
“Gracie” Gracie Carlton is a ‘cute as a button’ ten year old girl. The daughter of Clint and Aunde from Norman Park, GA. Clint owns Carlton Outdoor’s in Valdosta. They fished with ‘Little B’ and I this past Tuesday. I asked Clint what they wanted/expected on the trip and his response was “keep it active”. I hadn’t met Gracie yet, but children are a wonderful opportunity considering them as, pretty much, a blank canvas on which to paint a ‘fish’ portrait I hope they remember favorably for a long time. We started the day trolling some spoons for Spanish mackerel on the southern edge of the Little Bank, due west of Steinhatchee #1. Strong winds had stirred up the bottom, making the water clarity less than pure, so the Spanish bite was less than “active”. A quick 6 minute boat ride put us on a sheepshead hole. Would Gracie be able to detect the subtle peck of a sheepsheed and catch fish? Would I have to drop a line and give a ‘how to’ sheepshead lesson? Answer to question #1: Yes. Answer to question #2: Didn’t have time. Little B stood by her, dropped a few hints and she became quite the professional. She understood the function of the reel drag, pulled up and reeled down, to the point of impressing me. A fine 5 fish ‘boat limit’ went in the fish box. I wish I learned things that quickly. She was ready for phase three of our fish adventure. A forty minute boat ride set us a top a pile of amberjack. The live bait, we acquired during sheepshead fishing, were in a bad neighborhood. We free-lined a couple of baits off the stern. In minutes the game was on high heat. Clint took the first rod, called to Gracie and assisted her to landing the AJ. A good twenty pounder. After that, she just needed minimum assistance, from Little B or I, with the rod. Three amberjack over twenty pounds, I thought, would force her to set out for a spell. I was wrong! Bring’em on, dude. Little B and I got tired, not Gracie. She ‘sport fished’ for AJ’s to the point Little B confessed to me, after cleaning up the boat, his left side was sore from the ordeal. My left forearm hurt from the single time I helped out. Off to catch grouper... A thirty minute boat ride set us on a good grouper spot. Gracie and mom crashed in the bean bag chairs enroute. Weather was coming in from the west so time was limited. In 65’ of water the bite was good. The bait hit the bottom and the grouper hit the bait, first off. Again, Little B stood by Gracie, dropped a couple hints and she was tuned in. Honestly, I watched her do it. Because of her size, it was slightly awkward with the rod but her hand and finger positions were the same as mine. She had a touch. In ten more years, she’ll be a ringer. A beautiful twenty year old ‘ringer’ making the cover the Florida Sportsman. In less than an hour, the weather was questionable. We headed in. Gracie plopped in a couple of bean bag chairs, with her mom, for the ride in. She painted a memory in my mind. I hope I painted one in hers. Spanish mackerel are running amuck on spotty bottom between 7-11 feet. You can troll spoons and jigs or simply toss jigs. A twelve inch section of #1wire attached to the main line with an Albright knot and a Haywire twist to the jig head will prevent cutoffs. Enjoy the action. It is fun on light tackle. ‘Gumbo’ algae is covering the rocks inside of 65 foot. If you fished recently, you reeled up a gob of green slime on your bait. Solution: Run a longer leader and attach a small ‘crappie’ float twelve inches in front of the hook. It will help keep the bait above the gumbo. If that don’t work, try and anchor off the hard bottom, on sand. Sheepshead are still providing bent rods on the artificial reef and hard bottom near shore. Enjoy the action! Don’t get greedy. Those big ones are females nurturing tens of thousands of eggs. They harbor the future. Take a photo and let her go; you haven’t missed a meal in a long time so don’t give a plea you need to eat. If you let that big girl go, you don’t miss a meal you grand father/mother a memory for another bright eyed child. Take the opportunity to give your kids’ kids’ the same great time you’re having. Release the fish. Harvest five fish per person, release the big mommies. Killing fifteen big girls does not give male enhancement. Think. If you need a place to think, go to a field and hunt passenger pigeons. It is pure ignorance to excessively kill any animal during spawn and expect to maintain a happy, healthy population. That statement is not my opinion; it is a matter of fact. Read. I am a charter boat captain whose livelihood depends on fish; however, I have an ethical issue on harvesting any fish during their active sex period. I can not dump X amounts of pounds of dead pregnant fish on the dock and feel good about it. To me, it is wrong. State maximum regulations on any one species has no influence on what I take to the dock. I tell clients up front, to avoid controversy, when the bite is hot or when a big girl is tossed overboard “I love fishing and I love to fish; my mission in life is not to kill the pregnant fish nor their children.” I try to walk gentle on water. It’s my policy. A quality fishing trip is not measured by the poundage but how everyone enjoyed their day on the water. Take care of yourself and your tackle. Capt B.