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Date: Party Crashers
Title: March 14, 2005
Date: 17 Mar 2005
Time: 00:04:28 -0500
Party Crashers Seven ten in the morning, we slid out the mouth of the Steinhatchee River to face a picture perfect April morning. The sun was barely above the tree line, of the few clouds, some retained a slight hint of pink while the rest small loosely wadded pure white cotton balls. The air still had a Spring crispness with just a dash of salt from the Gulf. Glassy one foot swells rolled in from the southwest making the boat rise and fall like a child’s carousel. Without effort, the boat sliced through the sea so I pushed the throttles down well passed normal cruise, jetting healing salt air into the lungs of everyone onboard as we sped to the bait traps six miles offshore. I could feel it; of all the places on earth to be, this, without a doubt, was the best at that moment in time. Two miles from the bait traps, several dozen bait pods were seen dimpling the surface. Their little tails made the water look as if a light rain was falling. When the boat passed by, ribbons of thousands of small fish flashed away in a synchronized dance. I felt bad approaching them and breaking up their peaceful assembly. Even the gulls and pelicans were seated here and there amongst the bait parties. The birds reminded me of security members strategically placed at a college football game. The birds drifted along with the crowds of bait, merely watching. At the bait traps, I cut the motors off. When there was a lull in the chit-chat, the sea was incredibly quiet except for what sounded like a faint rain hitting a tin roof. The flickers of small fish tails splashing water was in surround sound. Everyone took a moment just to take it in. Life was all around and underneath us and the party was slowly moving north. The tranquility of the moment was broken when a wave of hundreds of party fish leapt from the sea and splashed down only for another wave of small fish to do the same thing. Gulls and pelicans took flight and hurried to the sight. Just as the birds arrived, two foot’ish Spanish mackerel began launching themselves through the party into the air to crash back into the sea. The riot lasted a half a minute or so stopping abruptly. The gulls picked off the chunks of dead fish left behind while the pelicans bombed the disoriented bait that managed to survive the Spanish onslaught. Things went from a peaceful party to a mob riot in the blink of an eye. It was wild to watch once but the scenario began to repeat itself from one bait party to the next. When the Spanish arrived it was apparent because of the party panic. Everywhere the Spanish went, things went crazy. Bait fish stampeded over top of themselves both in the water and in the air. Gulls and pelicans changed from graceful flight to that of a disturbed hornets nest. Spanish cart wheeled wildly in the mayhem. Now, I don’t know about everybody else but when I see fish going absolutely nuts; I go nuts with them. I had four light spinning rods lying across the supports of the T top, forward of the console. They were pre-rigged for just such an occasion. The rigging is simple. A quarter ounce Key Largo gold or silver tensile jig is haywire twisted to a twelve inch section of number one single strand wire. The wire leader is attached to the ten pound test main line with an Albright knot. The jig is not heavy so the light fishing gear is required to be able to cast it quite a distance into the feeding fish. Besides that, the gear is sporting, it gives the fight to the fish and that’s were the fun is in the first place. Little B, the mate, handed out the rods to four lucky anglers as I went through a hurried ‘how to’ prate. I ended the discourse with “it really doesn’t matter what you do as long as you get the jig to the fish. If the fish see it, they will eat it!” And eat it they did! We bopped from one panic party to the other. When the angler got the jig into the raging fish, the drag sang off. Multiple hook-ups transferred the dance from the fish to the folks as they had to do the ‘over and under hustle’ to keep the lines from tangling. The 1-3 pound Spanish were personally training some middle aged men who hadn’t seen a gym since high school. And judging by the hoots, hollers and smiles, I know these guys didn’t realize they were exercising. We fish trained that way for an hour before we had had enough. Everyone, including Little B and I, got to tussle a few rounds with the Spanish. We kept some but released most. It was a great way to start an offshore adventure. We picked up a little food, a little cut bait and a lot of fun in that hour. I realize many people would not have spent an hour cavorting with some misbehaving Spanish mackerel. “Oh, they’re just mackerel” “I’m not wasting my time with them!” “I don’t like eating them, anyway.” Goodness, have we completely lost touch with our inner child? You know, the little fellow inside us that originally enjoyed fishing for the pure amusement of playing with fish. It is exciting to watch a Spanish snatch a jig and burn off with it. It is a challenge when the tackle is scaled down. I love doing the Spanish gig with four pound test tackle. It is also fun and exciting breaking out that dusty fly rod and giving it a whip. Fly fishing can become a long drawn out series of backcasts if the fish aren’t cooperative. With Spanish it’s a few quick backcasts and off to the races. Spanish are overwhelming cooperative. Now, I’m not saying make a day out of it. Just permit yourself and friends an hour or so of fun with light tackle. Think of it as warm up session before offshore arm wrestling. I’m also not saying, slaughter the limit. The fellow who didn’t like eating Spanish more than likely was served a fillet that was frozen, for who knows how long. Spanish mackerel have to be served fresh, not frozen, for the best taste. Spanish are an oily fish, so the cooking method needs to allow the fish oil to drip off. That means grilling, smoking or broiling is far better than frying. Furthermore, in terms of worrying about table fare, fish with your heart not your stomach. You’ll have more fun and be less disappointed. Out of the few days we get to fish in a life time, it would be a shame be so worried about catching x number or pounds of fish that we should remove the fun out of single day on the water. Thanks for reading. Take care of yourself and your tackle. Capt B There is nothing that attracts human nature more powerfully than the sport of tempting the unknown with a fishing line. HENRY VAN DYKE (1899)