Saturday, June 9, 2018

Short Video - Ozark Smallies

Just returned from our annual family camping trip on the Buffalo River (pics coming soon) but here's a short video from a day of fishing with my uncle and brother-n-law.  River smallmouth bass are so much fun to catch.

Thursday, May 17, 2018

Maybe Bonefish

The silvery greenish shadow appeared at my 9 o’clock and moved to 8…7…5…before I could stop the kayak.  That opportunity existed and vanished so quickly I wasn’t even confident whatever I saw was a fish anymore.   There was a decent chance it was the shadow of a plane bringing a fresh new group of tourists to Grand Bahama Island.  That was my first encounter with a maybe bonefish. 

Pic: Charles Levi Jr

Sight fishing bonefish from a kayak is something I’ve wanted to do for a few years.  In March, some buddies called and invited me on a kayak fishing trip to the Bahamas.  I was super excited but knew my wife would be more like, “I dare you to go to the Bahamas without me!”  She either really loves me or really hates me because I spent last week fishing the flats.

1st Triggerfish

The winds blew over 30 mph for the first three days but that didn’t stop us from fishing.  We were thankful for the variety of targets that were willing to eat a fly and for the bicycles that we used to explore the island.  Barracuda, triggers, jacks and small snapper kept us busy while we waited out the weather.

One of the rougher days

The view

When the conditions improved we shuttled the kayaks to nearby flats and spent the afternoons poling the incoming tide.  The bones lived up to their reputation of being both, elusive and difficult to catch.  Good thing the chase was what most of us came for because the flats were full of maybe bonefish.  More than once, I convinced myself a rock, sea grass, and even a small turtle was a bone.
Shuttle to the flats from Old Bahama Bay

Not sure of the name of the game but it's addicting as...

Conch for the fresh conch salad served on the side of the road...

Like musky or grass carp, only the “first timers” ask how many you caught.  Those who’ve spent any time on the flats, know you only count the number of fish seen or how many follows you got.  

We relived the game of hide-n-seek over dinner each night.  The small victories gave us hope for better days.  Bones are easy to love but easier to hate, you curse the many refusals and celebrate like it’s your 21st birthday when they eat, which sometimes leads to new nicknames but that’s for another story.

OBB Marina

Each evening we’d gather for dinner at Old Bahama Bay Resort and drink our struggles away.  After an hour we convinced ourselves that tomorrow would be the day we’d figure out those flats ghosts.  All I can say now is, I saw a lot of maybe bonefish.

Friday, April 20, 2018

Orvis Guide Rendezvous 2018

Expecting all matter of civil rebellion, the plan was to deflect then bob and weave when necessary.  I trained for weeks preparing for the upcoming exchange.  Each morning, I brought my wife a cup of coffee.  Each evening, we watched CW type shows about queens and kings.  I didn’t complain about the kidz bop dance parties my wife and kids had every night.  The training was brutal, “All About That Bass” is a terrible song on its own merit now imagine it being sung by Alvin and the Chipmunks.  And it’s stuck on repeat in my brain!  The actual conversation wasn’t as dramatic as what I imagined.  All she wanted to know was, when are you leaving and returning.  My training was brilliant or I’m an idiot…you decide.  Either way, Orvis Guide Rendezvous (OGR) here I come. 

Chocolate milk on the South Holston, Bluff City.  Pic: Justin Powell

Over the next few weeks, I researched Asheville, NC extensively.  However, the amount of water in the area made it nearly impossible to make a plan.  So, I decided to take everything I owned. I left my house with camping gear, 5-10 weights, every trout to musky fly I owned and reservations at the Red Roof Inn.

Swag and stickers from OGR

Here’s where it gets interesting.  It’s 6 am on the first morning of the OGR and there’s a noise outside my door.  It sounded like someone was trying to open the door, which was confusing because I didn’t give anyone a key.  Since I’m pretty sure it’s not my wife bringing me a cup of coffee, things are getting weird.  Then the door opens but only to the point that the latch catches leaving just enough room to see Jameson’s ugly mug smiling through the crack.  I expected to see him that morning but did not expect the guy at the front desk to give him a key card to my room.  Turns out the dude at the front desk will give out key cards as long as you promise not to kill anyone before 7:30 am, after his shift of course.  True story!

Rouse guides on the Little Red River, AR.

In comparison to thinking you’re about to be a victim of a home invasion, the OGR was far less hair-raising.  Setting in a room with Louis Cahill from Gink-n-Gasoline, Cameron Mortenson from The The Fiberglass Manifesto, Philip Monahan from the Orvis Blog and Dave Grossman from Southern Culture on the Fly was super cool.  The information they shared about blogging was top shelf.  It was worth driving 12 hours just to listen to them speak.  But I did come to fish.

Still going!

Justin hooked up in the soup

While walking through the parking lot on day one, I noticed a JK Mayfly strapped to the roof of an SUV.  I immediately knew who owned it.  When I ran into Justin later that day, I pretty much invited myself to any place he was fishing.  Justin manages the Orvis Atlanta shop but previously lived in Asheville and agreed to show me around.  Of course, the weather was perfect up until the day we planned to fish.  But we weren’t going to let 2-3 inches of rain or flash flooding stop us. 

Crossing the mountains to get to the South Holston

Justin calling some buddies to check other water

The 4 miles below the dam were pretty clean.  Time to float.

We hit a few accesses in the mountains but the creeks were chocolate milk and flowing pretty heavy.  We stuck a few bows and browns but the only eventful part of the day was navigating the swollen creeks!  Each step was a mystery.  At one point, I remember stumbling over a boulder in the soup as a branch floated into my right side.  Time to call it a day, only the day did not end at the creek!  

We found fish...too bad the weather kept all the good cameras in dry bags. Pic Justin Powell

Sleet and snow plus 25 mph winds = fun!

I should have changed hotels after the key card incident.  I definitely should have moved after the 15th person knocked on the door of the room next to ours, using a distinct pattern that I had unfortunately become familiar with during the night.   But it wasn’t until 6 am when the sounds of running and a door slamming woke us up that we decided it was time to go.  An hour later, I’m talking to Justin from the 3rd floor when movement in the SUV beside him caught my eye.  There’s a woman in an old beat-up, black suburban giving herself a wet wipe bath right beside him.  How does he not see her?  Then the door to the room beside ours opened and a guy who looked like he hadn’t slept for 4 days walked out.  He made his way down the stairs before getting in the SUV with her.  They talk for a minute before driving away.

It was too cold to leave anyone at the ramp to run a shuttle so we made it all fit.

We knew floating a tailwater was the only real option for clean water.  We set our course for the South Holston.  The high for the day was 40F.  It reached that mark at 10 am and like the snow and freezing rain, fell steadily all day.  The winds gust to over 25 mph.  The conditions were brutal but we were happy to be on the water and as far away from the Red Roof Inn as possible.  Better to die on the water from hypothermia than in a meth lab explosion or deal gone bad.  No more budget hotels for me!

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

St Johns River Story (final)

Be sure to check out the other two parts first:

It had been over 2 weeks since we left Bart’s hunting cabin on January 3rd.  The last week had been less than exciting, which we appreciated.  The fishing had picked up but was still hit or miss.  The weather was excellent for a change.  We had spent a few nights camping and a few days resting at a houseboat on Lake Monroe.  But now we had returned to the cabin 17 days later and still 125 miles from the end.  The thrill of adventure and the unknown gone.  As we opened the door to the cabin, the wooden picnic table caught my eye and one of our earlier conversations replayed instantly.  We were at the table eating dinner speculating on the duration of the trip.  The thought of finishing 310 miles in 20 days seemed hysterical now.  It had been an adventure of marathon proportions but we needed to go faster.  We needed to sprint to the finish line.

 Mostly private property after Lake Harney, camping becomes a challenge
One of the best days of fishing at the mouth of the Econ River

Great day at the Econ above Jolly Gator Fish Camp, where we stayed later that night.  Pic: Bart Swab

The extended forecast told us we had about 10 days to get this trip done before the weather changed for the worse.  We would be vulnerable during this portion of the trip.  The river was a mile wide in places and didn’t provide much shelter from the wind.  We would also be dealing with strong tides each day and tricky currents near Jacksonville, FL.  Early in the trip, there had been days when the water was so rough, we lost sight of each other during lake crossings.  Being anywhere near the shipping lanes or the inlet in bad weather was not a good idea.  We had to take advantage of the favorable conditions we were experiencing now.

Why Knot Houseboat on Lake Monroe - Great location (link at bottom)

Fishing was outstanding on Lake George.  Eventually we had to leave the fish biting and cover the 10 miles remaining

Camping wasn’t an option any longer.  The added weight of the camping gear, food and water slowed us down too much.  We spent the last night at Bart’s cabin figuring out the logistics to shuttle vehicles for the remainder of our trip.  At 9pm, Bart loaded his kayak along with most of our camping gear and drove to his home in St. Augustine, FL.  The next morning, Ben and I would meet him at the Palatka boat ramp to begin the final push to Huguenot Memorial Park outside Jacksonville, FL.

Crossing Lake George - we were very fortunate to find it like this - glass

Satsuma area before AirBnB

AirBnB that Ben secured was very nice and right on the river - great location (link at bottom)

It was dark when we beached the kayaks at Shands Bridge Pier.  The 31-mile journey had taken 12 hours with a few, unexpected breaks to fish.  The daily grind left us exhausted but feeling enthusiastic about our progress.  We had covered 65 miles in 3 days.  However, the mood wasn’t optimistic.  Bart had a different expression on his face, one of concern and discomfort.

Foggy start to the day

Alligator gar sight fished during our 31 mile day.  I had crossed a bay and came on a shallow point.  I thought it was a redfish from the swirl and cast in front of it.

Bart’s neck was hurting the next morning but he felt like he could give it a go.  We checked the tidal charts and ran the shuttle knowing our distance from this point in the trip would be severely impacted by Bart’s ability to continue.  We parked a second vehicle at Black Creek Marina in case we couldn’t make the 15 miles planned.  

Dave Hernandez from St Augustine Paddle Sports ran the shuttle on our 31 mile float.  Not having to drop a vehicle was super helpful- Thx Dave!  (Facebook link below)

Unable to make the mileage and uncertain about the rest of the trip we pulled into Black Creek Marina just before 2pm.  Bart’s injury forced him off the water early that day and potentially ended the journey all together.  Not being from the area, we discussed different options that allowed me to finish on my own but we agreed, it was important to complete this journey together.  There was another option - Bart would have to complete the final 50 miles in his pedal kayak. 

This bird got a little too close to this Manatee

Two days past before we could get on the water again.  As forecasted, the weather was beginning to change.  The mornings started calm but each afternoon the winds would increase to 15 mph.  The Lower St Johns is very expansive after Palatka, FL and the resulting wind-blown seas can get treacherous.

Big water near Palatka, FL
Just after Shands bridge pier

It happened in a matter of 15 minutes, maybe less.  We had covered 7 miles using the many boat docks to avoid the North winds when it went completely calm.  Our planned exit for the day was on the east bank, but we had launched on the west bank.  The idea was to move up the west side and cross the river where it was the narrowest.  We didn’t make it.  The winds shifted from the east and the resulting seas made it impossible to continue or cross.  #LakeWashingtoneffect was intense but it was nothing like the swells coming from the starboard side.  We got permission to make an emergency exit at a private landing.  They asked us not to mention them or their location.   

Private launch that was very friendly but not an option for kayaks
Shooting docks

The next morning, we crossed the river and got on the east side before the winds made it impossible.  Again, we had plan “A” and plan “B”.  The first was to make it to Goodbys boat ramp.  If we made it there and felt good, we would run another shuttle.  However, we would need permission from a property owner because the next public launch was 15 miles away.  Well, the second part of the plan wasn’t a solid option.   The day ended at Goodbys.  Only 30 miles remained between us and our goal of kayaking the entire St Johns River.

Leaving Goodbys headed to Jax

Arriving into Jax

Downtown Jacksonville was a fun ride.  We dodged the bridge pilings and ran under the various trestles.  The current from the falling tide was really strong.  It would push and pull the kayak in a way that reminded me of a plane landing on a runway with the sudden shimmy and shake that makes you grip the seat a little tighter.

The landscape changed one last time after Jacksonville marking our final approach.  Cargo ships and military vessels were on both sides of the St Johns River.  Once the steady drone of airboats was endless but now the buzz of helicopters repeatedly circled overhead.  My mind started to drift and recall things previously forgotten.  I couldn’t help but laugh at the time Ben screamed out as an alligator exploded beside his kayak or the morning he spilled boiling water on his tent before anyone had a cup of coffee.  It’s funny now but on those freezing mornings, Bart refused to get out of his tent until someone filled his mug with warm coffee.  

The end of 310 miles

Then there was the day we had to stop and reload Bart’s kayak in Lake Monroe because it was listing to the port side badly.  There was so much to be thankful for as we hit the beach for the last time, but mostly I’m thankful to have shared this experience with two friends who will remind me of all the things I did that made them laugh and the great memories we shared.