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Date: A Series of Unfortunate Events
Title: March 13, 2005
Date: 21 Mar 2005
Time: 12:35:51 -0500
Duckett, Slim, Tommy Weaver, Danny and Dakota Adams from Dalton, GA started out this past Monday for a good time and a good fishing trip here in Steinhatchee. They piled into a 1982 van, Danny had got from his uncle over a year ago. Danny’s uncle used the van twice a week to travel to the flea market; a 16 mile round trip. Since Danny got the van it sat in his yard for a year. I believe the layover was some sort of prolonged trip check because he never had a problem with the van the entire period it sat in the yard. It was good to go. The guys loaded up their gear, a carry-on stereo they could plug into the cigarette lighter and began the ‘Jed Clampett’ journey south to the promised land of Steinhatchee. “Do you smell something burning?” they asked around. “Yea, I wonder what it is?” “Maybe it’s the car in front of us?” The van started to skip around. On the side of the road, they determined the brake calipers had ‘froze up’ and the hub was stroking red hot. Help arrived and after a layover they were back on the road. A light rain started. They flipped the windshield wipers on. Not too much time passed before the passenger side wiper stopped wiping. “Hey, at least it’s not the drivers side” was the yuck, for the moment. The rain picked up and the drivers side wiper went down. But they ‘vanned’ on down to Steinhatchee successfully to off load their stuff. Somehow, in some way, they got wind that the happening place was the Beach Bar in Keaton Beach. Off they went. In the parking lot, they noticed a tire going flat. The five guys quickly pit crewed putting the spare on and went in for a cool one or two or… And they left. Going 80 mph down the beach road back to Steinhatchee, the front drivers side tire blew with the chucks and strips of which beating the fender of the van unmercifully to give a custom look. They took the hot rim off. Replaced it with leaking tire and limped on to the Jiffy Store where there was, lo and behold a tire patch kit. From there they eased on back to Steinhatchee in fear and trembling. Tomorrow is the fishing trip we’ve been looking forward to, was the hope. “It’s going to be rough, guys.” I said at the dock. “The winds are going to pick up as the day goes on pushing the seas over 5 foot. There’s also a chance of rain” I continued. Their faces could have inspired a sad country and western song. “We don’t care, let’s go for it” said collectively. On the boat, I noticed a strong smell of gas. Lil B and I did a brief check but found nothing. We felt best to call Philip Savy, our local boat McGyver, for his once over. The guys went for a biscuit. In a half hour Philip was on site finding the metal housing for the fuel/water separator on the starboard side had corroded to the point of leaking fuel. He’s going to order one for both the port and starboard side but, in the meantime, we bypassed the separator to run the trip. “Load up, guys” I said. Then I looked at each of them. Some were far under dressed. “Ya’ll got some extra coats or shirts to wear?” I asked. “We’re fine” “I don’t think so. Why don’t you go get whatever extra gear you have because it’s better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it.” I said. When we passed out the river mouth the wind was stiff, the sky gray gloomy, and small elephants were dancing on the horizon. We went to the bait traps. They were filled nicely. The weather was pushing in from the west at a good pace. “Guy’s, it’s going to be rough, are you sure you what to push on?” I asked. “Let’s go” We beat the 18 miles to Lamb Spring to shoot at an amberjack. That waypoint was somewhat enroute. I figured it would be a shake down stop separating the chums from the chummers. The water was chalky from the hard blow the day before; the water didn’t look good. We got two hits on the live bait while the sea threw some seven footers our way from the east. Things were bad and getting worse. “Any of you guys have the middle name Jonah?” I questioned. “Reel’em up and let’s troll” I said. The seas were on the nose headed in and swung to stern too much to set our normal four rods back. I decided two trolling plugs were a plenty under those conditions. Away we went with twin Yozuri’s in tow. Thirty minutes into it, a twisted 18 inch gag grouper ate the green one. Fifteen minutes of trolling later we called it quits. Once in, we split up to take care of some personal stuff, then we got back together to grill some oysters and burgers. A great ‘lemons to lemonade’ idea. We had fun. Sometimes things aren’t meant to be. It’s takes a step backwards to make sure that instead of pushing and making things worse, one can savage what is left and have fun in the end. I asked them to call me once the got back home. They called arriving safely. Sheepshead have popped off on the Steinhatchee reef. Some fishermen are doing quite well using shrimp. Trout fishing has slowed down on the middle flats. But, the big trout are being found in cleaner shallow water (1-3’). Try using some shallow suspenders like the “Catch 2000”. I did this Saturday to release two trout at twenty four inches. There ain’t nothing like watching a big girl trout stop a twitch bait and wallow on the surface trying to shake it loose. Bye the bye, April is the prime spawning month for trout. If you’re lucky enough to hook-up with that big girl, I encourage you to be a big man and take a picture and not the fish. The big ones carry the coveted genetics. The smaller fish look and taste just as good in the Gulf of Crisco. Thanks for taking the time to read. Take care of yourself and the tackle. Capt. B.