SpiritFly Charters
Capt. Alex Moran
Tides, temperatures, winds, target species, fishing tactics, and the never ending quest to finally spear my on the water nemesis "The long fanged mangrove manatee" make February a bear to write about. I never know where to start, which is my monthly excuse for sending this in late. Sorry Jim!
The good news for all you readers is that a new year does not mean a new me so enjoy more of my disjointed goofy ramblings. I will not go quietly into the night! Nor will I consult "Elements of Style" by Strunk and White to figure out how to properly put a thought together on paper... well computer? Maybe I should read that book. Oh well.
So last month we finally got a few really solid cold snaps that changed up the game on the water but, for the first half of the month air temps were hovering in the mid 70's with winds out of the south pushing water in negating some of our crazy negative winter tides.
The prolonged periods of warm weather during winter can make some crazy stuff happen on the water. For instance, I fed a tarpon well over 100lbs a redfish fly somewhere secret in Charlotte Harbor. I have two witnesses, I promise. During these warm spells (which will happen at least once this month) I'm going to look for big snook laying around creek mouths on a high falling tide as they typically tend to trickle out of their winter lairs to grab a quick bite to eat in between cold fronts.
This is a great time to toss a big top-water plug at either dawn or dusk, working it only slightly faster than the current. Hang on, there's a big dark backed lady just under that dimly lit water waiting to reward you for getting up early/staying out way too late, she needs to eat before the next cold front swings through.
Speaking of the next front, I'm typing this in wool socks at the moment. What the hell happened to my gator laden year round summer paradise? As a general rule of thumb (for me anyways) I do my best to try and fish the two days prior to, and after a front comes into town. I feel like the fish are getting fat knowing that they'll be hunkered down for a couple of days (much like we do during a hurricane), then once the cold snap blows through they kick down the door in the same fashion that "Macho Man Randy Savage" might, and venture back out into the world in search of a Slim-Jim to curb their appetite after playing too much UNO with the family and eating bland popcorn.
I find that the post front days are typically much more calm and this is where a fly can really get you into the game. The softer presentation in skinny water will give you more shots at quality laid up or foraging fish (redfish in particular). Depending on how the tides work out you could stumble upon a flat full of tailing fish and have them all to yourself.
Generally I don't see too many boats out shortly after a front, which (he types selfishly aloud into your brains) is actually a really nice change of pace. I'll usually toss a weedless tan or olive shrimp/baitfish pattern at these guys to mimic the bottom.
If that isn't getting the eat we change the game completely and slap a gurgler on their heads in pursuit of the rare topwater sight fished redfish (even more rare than that dreaded long fanged mangrove manatee).
Try to keep that fly in the strike zone as long as there's a wake behind it, as it's almost insultingly funny how clumsily redfish eat. It's like watching a three month old trying to shovel applesauce into their maw only to have it end up down their shirt. Thank god I don't have kids, that sounds sticky.
For trout, I'm either sight fishing them in the potholes littered through grass flats around Pine Island sound with a small baitfish fly, or using an intermediate tip fly line with a clouser and slowly dredging the edges of a flat next to a channel as the tide falls. Not only can you get a monster mustard mouth but you get the bonus of having a flat at your back so when the tide does bottom out you spin the boat and spend an hour or two looking for those pesky tailing reds. As my uncle Joe Dirt once said "You win twice brother!"
This pattern will repeat itself most likely through mid March. Hopefully by then temps have stabilized and we start to see some signs of spring coming around the corner. Don't get me wrong, a few cold days a year is a welcome break from sweat running down my shins (an odd sensation, I must say).
By signs of spring I'm talking about my beloved white pelicans starting to leave town, butterflies fluttering around the mangroves, my Hong Kong orchid tree dropping the last of its flowers, and fish launching out of the water.
Speaking of water missiles! Holy smokes last year was the year of near misses for ol' captain Alex. Early last spring I was poling a basin with clients looking for laid up tarpon and one of those silver bastards came at the boat hotter than a tweakers butter knife fresh off of an electric stove, then the damn thing launched headlong perpendicular to my gunnel, gave myself and my two clients a good stare down (midair mind you) and in some sort of Cirque Du Soleil maneuver turned sideways and entered the water no less than a foot from the boat.
I was halfway ready to text my buddy who had one hop in for a joyride down in the everglades and destroy six of his now discontinued 1-piece G-Loomis rods before it somehow did that midair magic and missed us.
Just a month later I had "The Mad Brits" on the boat. They're a wonderful father son duo that have been fishing with myself and buddy Gregg McKee for two weeks over the past four years. Fishing and gin is the name of the game for their time spent here.
Anyways, we were running in the southern end of Pine Island Sound last April (just a couple weeks after the famous failed North Korean tarpon missile launch) and a spotted eagle ray decided to invite itself to our party. Imagine running 30mph and all of a sudden a denizen of the deep tries to make you a news headline similar to Steve Irwin's (RIP I love that guy) but slightly better looking. This critter went right past the fathers face, brushed my side with its wing and smacked my poling platform with a resounding "thwackathubflotflub" never to be seen again. All I got was a bent anchor bucket loop, a hilarious story, and a cold beer from "The mad brits" while we calmed our nerves for a second. always be ready out there guys/gals!
What I'm saying is, spring will be here sooner than you think. When those rays start to launch out of the water, and you see giant explosions across a bay it's time to start changing tactics to get ready for six months of mayhem. Keep an eye out this year as the seasons change and you might start to pick up a few tips that this amazing estuary gives out for free. And you don't even have to risk a paper cut to read my goofy article!
Until next month, you kids stay out of trouble, go to bed on time, eat your veggies, and hold a door for a stranger. If you want to take a trip give me a call/text/email and we can go dodge airborne marine life like we're dodging taxes. See you on the water!
Capt. Alex Moran
Spiritfly Fishing Charters
SW Florida
