Belize Fishing Report, 03-14 January: Beating Cabin Fever

 In February 2020 I'd had enough of the winter wonderland in God's Country, and lit out for Belize.  Anticipating a second surge of cabin fever, I started scheming an escape in the fall.  Fortunately, Orvis helped the planning by offering a three-day "Bonefish Bonanza" outing at the El Pescador Lodge on Ambergris Caye (https://www.elpescador.com/).  Surrounded by 400 square miles of flats, as well as reef and offshore fishing opportunities, the lodge is a prime location to catch all three flats species (Bonefish, Permit, and Tarpon), as well as Jacks, Barracuda, Snapper, Snook, and pelagic fish in the deeper water just three miles off the beach.  

When I booked the trip for Mary and me, Belize was still in lockdown.  The lodge and hotels expected to reopen in mid-December, but the airlines had not resumed their normal flight schedules.  Our arrival at El Pescador was scheduled for January 10; the earliest Delta flight into the country was a week earlier.  So we "sucked it up" and booked a week at the Mahogany Bay Resort in San Pedro, a Hilton property just a few miles south of El Pescador.  

As expected, the weather was perfect for a departure to warmer climes....

In fact, the driveway, as well as the dirt road section of Atkins Road, were one sheet of ice.  Son-in-Law Jay Whitfield was here, did a bit of reconn, and determined that once we got onto the hard pavement we were good to go for the 2 hour drive to Buffalo to catch our plane.  Fortunately, we had enough kitty litter to get traction on the driveway, and crawled the next 100 yards until we got to terra firma.  

Getting into Belize was fairly easy.  Get a covid test (with a negative result) within 96 hours of flying, and fill out an app with the Ministry of Health 72 hours prior.  Although the country was open, the effects of the lockdown are still apparent.  There were probably 30-40 passengers on our flight, and when we off the plane the airport, which was normally bustling with tourists, was a virtual ghost town.

Fortunately, the Belikin store was open, permitting a cold one before we boarded our Tropic Air "puddle jumper" to San Pedro.

A twelve minute flight to the island, and a five minute cab ride to the resort, a quick check in , and Old Man Winter got fainter and fainter in the rear view mirror.

                                                         

Week one was less about fishing and more about just enjoying the sun and the resort.  There are certainly fishing options available.  A local charter service runs trips out of the lodge.  And there are plenty of DIY opportunities.  Juvenile Tarpon move up and down the canals that divide the properties.  On the couple of occasions that I fished the canals, I saw fish roll, but failed to get a take.  The resort also has a private beach a 12 minute boat ride away.  Here Mary and I got to do practice for our El Pescador outing, and each managed to land Bonefish that were surprisingly swimming in close proximity to the folks in the water.

 

                                                                       

The weather for the week cooperated for the most part.  We had some cloudy and windy days which precluded decent sight fishing at the resort.  But the temps were in the upper seventies, and there was plenty of Belikin to while away the hours.

The first week went by quickly, but we still had four days left on the island.  So on Sunday we loaded up the suitcases, and cabbed it to town, where staff members from El Pescador were waiting.  A quick boat ride up the beach and we checked in to the lodge, received our fishing orientation brief, downed a few Painkillers, enjoyed a great meal, and prepared for three days of hard fishing.

Even for folks who don't care to fish, El Pescadore is a fantastic resort.  Rates are all inclusive, so you not only have very comfortable accommodations, but meals, bar service (local rum and beers are included in the package), and if you're fishing, the guide fee.  The lodge can also set up snorkel/diving trips (should you desire to abdicate your position as apex predator), jungle and Mayan ruins tours on the mainland, and spa stuff.  To a person, the staff are always on the lookout to help, and go out of their way to make the stay enjoyable and memorable.

As its name implies, though, El Pescador is about fishing.  If you're looking for a Grand Slam (Bonefish, Permit, Tarpon), or just to target one of the three, this lodge ought to be on your list.  As I mentioned earlier, there are many other decent charter services on the island that will put you on fish.  I think one difference with El Pescador, however, is that the guides are the most experienced on the island, and are probably more focused on catching big fish than the clients (if that's possible).  The second big difference is you'll be spending at least 2 hours more on the water with these guides than the other charter services operating out of San Pedro.  The third difference is that the guides are also patient and expert instructors.  Fishing the flats is both exciting and intimidating.  Trying to lay out a 60 foot cast to a cruising Bonefish, and putting the fly in a spot close enough to get its attention but not spook the fish, is challenging.  It's even more challenging when you only get to fish the salt once a year or so.  But the guides are relaxed, and that helps steady the nerves, especially when you blow the shot. (Which happened to us often).

We had Cesar as our guide for the three days.  He was the consumate professional, yet also outgoing and friendly, and patient to a fault.  Now, there's no goofing around at El Pescador; the fishing day is oriented to spending time on the water.  So after a quick breakfast you're on the dock at 0630, where Cesar was waiting to load us up and get to the fish.  

A preordered lunch is packed for you in the cooler, including drinks (and, of course, some cold Belikins).  And off you go.  

The first two days we targeted Tarpon in the morning, and finished up with Bonefish in the afternoon.  On day one Cesar took us north to an ecological park that borders Mexico.  The area was beautiful as he maneuvered his skiff through overhanging Mangroves to secluded lagoons where the Tarpon were supposed to be hanging out.

Tarpon are known as the fish of a thousand casts.  While we saw a few fish roll, we really never got a decent shot on the first day.  Day two Cesar decided to head south.  Again, we saw fish rolling, and this time I even got a take.  But my trout instincts kicked in and I lost it.  That's the other issue with Tarpon fishing.  A thousand casts means about ten thousand strips.  If you're not sight fishing, then the monotony of fishing can kick in, particularly with the inexperienced angler.  So it's not surprising that when the monotony kicks in, the fish decides to eat.

Fortunately, Cesar had great spots lines up for us to get the skunk off with some Bonefish.  Most of the time we were blind casting shrimp patterns with 8 weight rods and 16 lb leaders.  Key to catching Bonefish (and Permit and Tarpon for that matter) is keeping the rod tip down (even to the point of being in the water) for the retrieve.  When the fish takes the fly (it feels like you've snagged on something, except there's nothing out there except a fish to snag your fly), keep the tip down and strip set, followed by slowly lifting the rod.  Then you hold on while the fish starts stripping line off the reel.  Even a 12 inch fish will make line scream off the reel and put a nice bend in an 8 wt. 

We managed about 5-10 fish on each of the first two days, including a nice Jack that Mary landed, and a big Jack that took me nearly to the end of the backing ... before spitting the fly right near the boat!  

Our last day on the water was by far the best of the three.  We decided to just make it a catching day, and asked Cesar to just put us on fish.  And he did not disappoint!  Weather was partly cloudy with winds around 5-10 mph, but no rain in the vicinity.  We started out fishing some channels south of the lodge, and picked up a variety of fish; Bonefish, Jacks, Snapper, and a Barracuda.  Two of the Snapper were big enough to throw in the cooler and take back to the lodge, where the staff fried them up as a tasty appetizer.

After a couple of hours, Cesar decided a change of venue was in order and took us to the mainland.  There the sun was out, the winds were calm, and the water flat, making it possible to spot Bonefish cruising along the beach.  My victory for the trip was a successful stalk from the boat, landing a 2-3 lb fish, my best for the trip.  Cesar then beached the boat, and worked with Mary on her casting (and catching), while I waded around and picked up a number of small fish, which seemed to be everywhere that my fly hit the water.

We made one final stop to Savannah Flats, north of the lodge.  We only boated one fish, but the sight of dozens of Bonefish tailing in the shallows more than made of for the lack of hookups.

Eight hours under the sun makes for a long day.  Fortunately, by the time the boat pulls back into the lodge, the bar is open, and the stories begin.  There were only seven anglers on the outing; another indicator that the economy is far from getting back to normal.  But the lodge is doing its best to get things moving in the right direction, and from my perspective, even in tough times El Pescador more than lived up to its reputation!

Tight Lines, 

Mikey D Fishing

South Georgia Hunting Report, 11-13 December

 Yeah ... a bit late.  But hunting conditions don't change as much as fishing conditions.

Venue: Southern Woods Plantation, Sylvester Georgia (https://southernwoodsplantation.com/)

Participants: John and "Dr. Jim Beam" Hupp, Captain Dipaola, Phil Weglein, CDR Curt Toomer, son LT Josh Toomer, son-in-law Tim Canney

Purpose of the gathering: 40th anniversary of the Army-Navy Executive Committee, enjoying great food and beverages with friends, watching the Army-Navy game, upland bird hunting

Quarry: Quail

This is a smart one....

Weather: Sunny/partly cloudy skies, temps in the high 60s-mid 70s.

The lodge:  About a 2 hour drive from Atlanta, also accessible by a commuter flight from Atlanta into Albany, and then a 20 minute ride.  If you're into upland bird hunting, there is no better outfit than Southern Woods.  An absolute first-class experience.  Excellent accommodations, fantastic down-home southern cooking, and you could not ask for more gracious hosts than the Deloach family, who manage the preserve, and the staff and guides who were committed to making the weekend memorable.  

The daily routine: Breakfast of eggs, bacon and smoked sausage, grits, and biscuits, followed by a morning hunt, lunch at the lodge, an afternoon hunt, cocktails, then amazing dinners of prime rib, bacon wrapped stuffed quail, smoked pork chops, followed by more adult beverages.  

Pregame.  As Thursday was check in day for the party, I had scheduled our first hunt for Friday afternoon, to give us a chance to "tune up" by busting some clay pigeons on the property.  It only took a few rounds before all looked pretty dialed in and ready to hunt, or at least that's what I thought.

Issue of the weekend.  Is the West Branch Tavern in Canada?  A feisty debate occurred Friday night.  Curt took the position that the WBT was indeed in Canada, with his son-in-law Tim, a hot-shot D.C. lawyer, taking the opposite tack.  After some very thorough research, out that the latitude of the WBT sits less than 7 miles south of the southern most latitude of Canuck-land.  Cost Curt $20, but still too close for comfort.  So we'll be stocking Labatt Blue as a contingency, should an invasion from the north occur. 

The Hunting.  The lodge owns around 4000 acres, with some additional leased property to accommodate the 60 some odd hunters who were at the lodge that weekend.  The hunting is for a mix of wild and released birds; over 200,000 are released during the season that runs from October to March.  Our party broke up into two groups of four, and mounted the jeep-drawn carriers that would take us to various locations across the preserve.

The terrain was pine woods and switch grass, with the occasional briar patch.  Not too difficult getting around, but we did quite a bit of walking.  

For many of us, this was our first outing for quail.   Unlike pheasants, which are loners, quail are normally hanging together in coveys; sometimes only a few birds, but in some cases the dogs would flush coveys of a dozen birds or more.  And any sense that the birds would fly in a predictable fashion did not survive the first flush.  These birds go in every direction and at every angle of elevation.  It's a recipe for fast shooting, but also presents some serious safety issues.  Fortunately, our guide Russell provided the experience that we needed to maintain a level of shooting discipline that ensured that the only targets were the birds.

Of course, the stars of the show are the dogs (the lodge owns over 200).  Russell had two sets of four dogs that he rotated throughout the hunt.  Two of the dogs were short-haired pointers.  Once the dogs got on point, and Russell set us up on a shooting line, he'd send in two spaniels as flushers.  It didn't take long for the flushers to do their job, the covey would bust, and the shooting commenced.

Over the course of two days there was a lot of shooting.  As to the hitting, well, it's a good thing that the dogs couldn't comment.  Many of the birds the dogs flushed lived to fly another day.  Russell's constructive criticism ("great shooting," he'd often say, I think sarcastically) made for a truly enjoyable outing.  I'm not sure the dogs would have been as kind.

We had one more hunt Saturday morning, with pretty much the same results; the spent-round-to-bird ratio improved slightly, which was good.  But obviously requiring some more practice before heading back to south Georgia.  Phil and Josh put on great performances in the field.  For the rest of us, we settled for feeling that our outing turned out much better than sitting in a cold stadium, especially after Navy's, goose-egg performance on Saturday afternoon.

I'll take Southern Woods any time.

Shoot straight, and Happy Holidays

Mikey D Fishing

End of the Season Fishing Report

 Turns out that our late-October foray into the Chesapeake would be our last for the season.  Over the next couple of weeks, Captain DiPaola ventured back out several times, only to find the bay barren of working birds and fish.

Fortunately, the end of Bay fishing doesn't mean that fishing has ended for the year.  The trout streams in NC PA are back to normal flows.  And, if you don't mind getting on an airplane, warmer climes provide opportunities to hook into a variety of species.  So last week I headed down to Jacksonville, Florida to fish the Intracoastal Waterway with long time friend and squadron mate Curt Toomer.   Our plan, which had been hatched several months ago, was to spend a day with a guide who specialized in targeting spawning bull redfish.  The guide (who shall remain nameless, for reasons that follow), also had a reputation for finding keeper flounder.

I arrived in Jacksonville last Sunday to sunny skies and temps in the upper 70s, a far cry from the 30-degree temps in Potter County.  Unfortunately, we missed the big Reds, which had already moved offshore.  But the intracoastal is still a phenomenal fishery, with a number of species that hang out through the fall and winter.  The forecast for Monday, our day with the guide, looked pretty good.  A cold front was moving through, but temps were to stay in the 70s, with winds at 10 knots, dying off as the day progressed.

So it was somewhat surprising when the guide called at 6:45 Monday morning with concerns about the winds.  He had based his observations on the trees in his yard (he lives on the southside somewhere, and not on the water).  Now, I suppose that looking at trees is one way to get sense of the winds.  But you'd think marine forecasts would provide a bit more empirical sense of the weather.  And it didn't look bad to us.  Whatever.  Maybe the guide wanted optimal conditions, and Tuesday's forecast showed lower winds and warmer temps.  We had flexibility, so we pushed him to Tuesday, and went with Plan B.

The tide was set to begin to fall around 9:00 AM, giving us plenty of time to grab some live bait (mud minnows), and head to the marina where Curt keeps his 17 foot Maverick skiff.  

We headed up the IC to scout some water and find some fish.  Now, fishing with Curt is both about exploring as well as catching fish.  He meticulously studies satellite images of the IC to find the spots in the back creeks that should hold fish.  You could fish the banks along the main channel of the IC and probably pick up a few fish.  But it's the feeder creeks, with their points and oyster bars, that you want to target.  Plus, it's just fun poking up into skinny water looking for fish.

We spent the afternoon hitting some spots north of Blount Island.  As forecast, the winds died and the temps warmed; despite the guide's concerns it was a prefect day out.  And around 1:45 PM, two hours before the bottom of the falling tide, the bite turned on.  We anchored at a small creek mouth, and proceeded to hit the Northeast Florida Slam, catching a Red, a few Speckled Trout, and a keeper Flounder.

Fishing for Reds and Trout isn't particularly technical.  You basically need to be in the right spot when the water is moving.  We jigged live mud minnows and soft plastics (paddletails) off the bottom.  Flounder present a different challenge, as they prefer to chew on the bait for a spell before committing to the take.  Patience is a must to catch 'em, and the smaller the founder the more difficult to detect chewing from striking.  But it's all part of the fun.  

By the time we got off the water, the forecast for Tuesday had changed a bit.  Winds were now going to blow between 10-12 knots.  Perhaps a choppy ride in the main channel of the IC, but certainly enough protected water in the feeder creeks.  Plus, we were fishing with a guide, who would know where to go, right?  So it was all the more exasperating when the captain called again, almost exactly the same time as the day before, claiming that the wind was "howling" out there and it might be prudent to sit the day out.  We used the guide's weather tool and looked at the trees, noting a bit of a breeze, but not quite "howling," but then again not knowing the guide's tree-based Beaufort Scale.  Suspicions were growing, and we told the guide that we'd meet him at the Mayport boat ramp to make the final call.

As we drove to the ramp, Curt and I decided that, if the captain began whining about the weather, we'd just bag him and head back out on our own.  When we got to the ramp the wind was blowing a bit, maybe 12-15 knots.  But the river wasn't too choppy.  And the forecast was for the winds to lie down as the day progressed.  Sure enough though, when we met the guide at the ramp, he immediately launched into "wind is howling" mode, and again expressed his reluctance to be on the water.  All the while , had he turned around, he would have observed several flats boats going into the water.  Obviously anglers with a death wish.  He then went on to regale us with his TV appearances, the most recent of which was with Bill Dance.  "Bill Dance ... you gotta be kidding me," I thought to myself.  A septuagenarian, still wearing that Tennessee trucker's ballcap.  Why not Orlando Wilson or Roland Martin or Jimmy Houston, for crying out loud.  Maybe had he mentioned Tom Roland or Rich Tudor, then he would have had some street cred.  That pretty much did it for me.  For whatever reason, the chucklehead did not want to go fishing, and earn his $500 fee, which to me seems a weird business model.  

Pro guide Tip: If your business is taking people out fishing for money, then in order to make your business work, you need to take clients out fishing and collect your money.

So we bid Captain XXX (who shall remain anonymous for now, since he still has Curt's deposit) farewell, hit the bait store for live shrimp, got onboard the Maverick, and headed out into the "gale."  Aside from being a bit cooler and breezier than the day before, it was certainly good enough for fishing.  And, since the tide would fall a bit later than Monday, there was no hurry to get on the water.  We fished the afternoon exploring creeks just north of the marina.  The first we hit seemed promising, especially when we landed a small Red on the second cast.

But it turned out the only fish brought to the boat.  So after staying awhile longer, we moved to a second spot, just as the tide was about 2 hours from the bottom.  Just like the day before, we no sooner anchored up and started tossing live bait and plastics that fishing became catching, mostly Speckled Trout, but also a number of Ladyfish (also known as "poor mans Tarpon"), and even a small Snapper.

It was a great two days on and off the water.  And always a great time hanging out with Curt and his lovely bride Michele, who has tolerated our fishing antics for over two decades.  

So, another Mikey D season is at an end.  The boat is out of the water and getting prepped for winter storage.  And the last of the Striper filets have been devoured.

A bit sad, but barring Covidiot travel restrictions, there are still fish to be caught (Belize beckons in January), and only 5 months until the opening day of Trout season in Pa., with Striper season not too far behind.  We're also excited about extending our reach south to Cape Charles this summer.  Stay tuned.

Happy Thanksgiving, and Tight Lines,

Mikey D Fishing

Chesapeake Bay Fishing Report, 30 October - 01 November: Back on the Board

 It's been a whacky fishing season.  Maryland's governor decided that the risk of Corona Virus exposure was high on the bay, so he shut down recreational angling for most of the spring.  With July came warmer water temps and spread out fish.  The DNR shut down the bay again for the last two weeks of August to angler-induced Striper mortality.  And on, and on, and on....

Even the fall fishing, which is typically when the bite really turns on again, was abysmally slow.  Time was running out before we'd have to pull the Mikey D and be left with nothing but looking for to 2021.

Fortunately, the fishing gods intervened and provided some decent weather, and Stripers eager to hit a lure.  We were supposed to take out a charity charter on Friday.  But the clients bagged, leaving us with no other option but to fish.  We got out on the water Friday afternoon.  Air temps were in the 50s, water temps around 62, and the tide was slack.  And when we turned the corner from Burley Creek we spied birds working Whitehall Bay and in the mouth of the Severn River.  Not the typical level of activity that we've seen before.  But if the birds are working, there are fish underneath.  We fished for a couple of hours, racing between spots where the birds were working.  The catching was a bit disappointing from one perspective, as we put no fish in the cooler.  But we caught fish, including a chunky 18 incher. 

A lot of factors go into a good bite.  But perhaps the most important is moving water.  Saturday weather was a bit cooler when we left the dock, but we left right before the tide was to change, which turned out to be the right call.  Joining us on this foray was Mike "Chunks" Shina.  Only a couple of days before, Mike had retired as a school teacher, so we recognized his decades of service by offering him a Mikey D special of a $1 dollar charter.  Magnanimous chap that he is, Mike tipped the mate 100%, and we were off.

We got into Whitehall Bay around 10:00 am and immediately saw far more birds working than the previous day.  And within the first twenty minutes we had limited out with 19 and 20-plus inch fish, a reminder of how great fall fishing on the bay can be.  For the rest of the day the bite was consistent, with metal jigs being the ticket.  We easily caught over a dozen or so fish, and even released three more keepers that were bigger than the fish in the cooler.  Highlight of the day was watching a 36-plus inch Rockfish charge after a smaller fish that Mike was bringing to the boat.

It was a great feeling to have the filet knife in hand once again.  Our plans for a third outing on Sunday were stymied by 20 knot winds and 4 foot waves in Whitehall Bay.  But, using the rule of thumb of scheduling three days of fishing to get one good day of catching, it worked out well.

Tight Lines,

Mikey D Fishing