With our editor and ad sales manager in Vegas and other team members out of town we set out to do something on Sunday we had promised ourselves for a long time, but never made the time to actually do: we went fishing. We, that is TJ, an experienced fisher woman who used to work on a fishing boat in the Panhandle a while ago, my brother Thom, computaholic and webmaster and myself, who never held a fishing pole, let alone a Shemano, in his life.
During the Sunday morning coffee, my complete ignorance made me ask the question: Can’t we just load the poles in the car and go? 2 Cups of coffee later I was sufficiently updated to understand that this was an operation that needed proper preparation. Checking the gear, the bait lagoon, the tackle box, ice box and ice, snacks, drinks and a Cuban cigar (for me). We also needed to check high tides on the internet and an hour later we walked into the Bait Shop on 14th street to load up on a couple of dozen live shrimps to be used to catch some fish.
Here I learned my first interesting thing lesson. Life shrimp can hurt you. The very knowledgeable woman who helped us told us that these frisky critters can actually hurt you when you try to lift them while hooking. There is a certain way you have to get them out of the box . Do it wrong and they may get you under your finger nails, and we all know how that can hurt. Oh well, so my question is: why live bait?¬† Duh….dummy, so that the fish you’re trying to catch think that these shrimps frolicking around (on the line mind you) are tasty lunch.
Parting from the store with the advice to go to the back of Fort Clinch, instead of the front where the current is too strong, we set our course. This was the first time I drove through Ft. Clinch and was surprised to find how big the park is and how much there is to do. (Yeah I know, I’m spending too much time in front of a computer). Anyway after unloading the car and piling most of the gear and what have you on a little handy trolley, we set a brisk pace and reached the little inlets behind the fort right around noon time, the heat of the day of course.
Now the action gets interesting. While I lit my delicious Cuban and outfitted myself with cameras to make sure every action is well documented, the shrimp in the bait basket stayed frisky and on the alert which happens to surprise Thom on more than one occasion as he jumps back from their vicious attacks. After her initial request to have me take the bait and hook it for her, an honor I decidedly turned down, TJ quickly picked and removed the shrimp in a professional manner, a process all in itself as these frisky critters jump, wriggle and bite.
In the next 2 hours my two fishing buddies manage to loose 18 shrimp of the 2 dozen we had bought to many different causes. Crabs, fish smartly biting off heads or tails, an occasional rock or a faulty hook, the spirits apparently were not with us. Not much action here I thought, except for feeding the fish through a complicated delivery system of hooking, casting and pulling.
Well, the decision was made to eat our sandwiches (tuna mind you) and try our luck a little further down. TJ’s insistence finally made me take her rod so that I at least could learn how to hook the bait and cast the line. Well, here the fun started. Since I’m ambidextrous I couldn’t figure out at first which hand to use to cast with. That of course created some humorous moments, as a 240 pound man tries to dance like a ballerina while casting and letting his thumb of the line at the same moment. The expense of laughter was all mine.
When I finally casted, I forgot to throw the handle to tie up the line(or whatever the name of that little concoction is) Result: In seconds I had created a birdnest of line, which had to be amputated and rigged again. While TJ was¬† working on that, Thom stood as a statue in the surf and all at once BAMMM,¬† there was a beautiful nice size flounder laying on the beach. Fresh seafood for dinner became a distinct possibility now. Just two more and we’d be having a blast. Well, the problem however was, we had only 5 shrimp bait left to accomplish this feat.
With the sky turning dark to our north and some fierce lightning and thunder over Saint Mary’s, we decided to move back a little closer to where the car was parked and again ended up in the little lagoon that earlier in the day had only produced a big fat zero.
Things were different this time as we learned our most important lesson about fishing around Amelia Island, the tide was changing and the fish went crazy. Both TJ and Thom reported numerous attacks on the bait, but it took another 10 minutes before TJ could protect her alltime record of catching at least one fish every time she goes out. If we would have set out around 3 pm, our 24 shrimps would have guaranteed a fish barbecue we could have invited the neighborhood for. The guy next to us was living proof as he casted the line and pulled in seatrout after seatrout. As it is however, we have to go fishing again very soon to catch a 3rd flounder and have a seafood dinner. I would say we’re well on our way to survive these economic hard times, wouldn’t you. The whole delightful experience cost $35 including admission to Ft.Clinch. Not bad. There is one question left on my mind however: are these live bait shrimps the same shrimp that we eat? Because if so, $7.49 (incl. tax???) is not a bad price for 2 dozen shrimp. Anyone care to tell me?
