Redfish Article

When Seeing Red Is A Good Thing By Capt. Zac Grossman The sun wasn't quite up yet, but our excitement level sure was. My friend Bob and I handed our equipment down to our guide and then gingerly stepped aboard his flats boat at the ramp in Titusville. This area is renowned for its redfishing and captain John even wrote a book about it, titled Flyfishing For Redfish, one of four books he has in print. We had high hopes. We left the launch area and headed north just as the sky was getting light enough to see by. After about a 15 minute run we came off plane and the engine was cut. John announced that this was the area where the "big" fish were yesterday. At first glance, there was nothing to distinguish this spot from anything else we could see but looking down into the water told the story. We were half a mile from shore but drifting onto a flat lush with bright green vegetation covered by about 2 feet of crystal clear water. The locals call this area "the tail" because of the shape of the flat when seen on a chart. I inquired whether we should be on the bow at the ready, but John said that there was no need. We would be doing a lot of searching today but it would be very obvious when we spotted our quarry, and plenty of time to prepare. We had an array of tackle rigged and ready. I had a 9-weight flyrod rigged with a 10-foot leader ending in a 16-pound test tippet. John had chosen a purple and gold Clouser. We had a couple of 8-pound test spinning outfits and a couple rigged with 20-pound test spiderwire for us to use as well. In Florida there is a slot limit for redfish. An angler can only keep one fish between 18 and 27 inches in length. While we had come for the really big fish, I was hoping that we would get at least one slot fish too because they are really good to eat. John had poled all the way across this huge flat without seeing what he wanted to. His trained eye doesn't get excited by anything but real redfish signs but I have to admit that the mullet jumping and splashing everywhere get me every time. "They're not here right now, let's move to the next spot" he said. As we glided off the edge of the flat the motor was lowered and we took off again. This time stopping at another flat not far from the "haulover" that connects this section of the Indian River with Mosquito Lagoon. As we neared the edge of the flat and came off plane John pointed out dozens of "V" shaped wakes scattering across the flat. "Well, they're here, but way more skittish than they ought to be". He started to pole as Bob and I headed for the bow. Before very long we could see fish "pushing" in all directions. The water on the flat is so shallow that any fish of decent size pushes a bow wave in front of it as it moves about in search of food. When they find something and nose down into the grass, their bright red tails poke through the water and an experienced eye can spot them from far off. It actually takes only a single confirmed sighting to train yourself in what to look for, so before long everyone was pointing in different directions. John had Bob switch to his lighter rig because the school approaching us was all "smaller" fish. This area is famous for the fact that "small" fish seem to all be slot sized and up, unlike most other places. The lure of choice was a "Bass Assassin" in pink and brown with spots. These lures are made of soft rubber and rigged so that the hook point is just under the rubber "skin", making them weedless. They are fished slowly with little jerks on the rod that make the lure dart erratically. You would think that redfish with their small under slung mouths would have trouble chasing a lure but that is not true at all. In fact they will even nail poppers on the surface, when in the mood. As a school of a dozen fish moved toward us, John poled the boat into position for us to cast in front of them by a few feet. The first cast was unleashed just a little too late and it landed within inches of the lead fish. It triggered a genuine stampede. White water flew high as the entire school panicked, turned, and streaked at least a hundred yards across the flat. John with his wry sense of humor pointed out that the cast was a tad bit too close, and "Please don't do that again!" This flat was so full of fish that it was only a few minutes later when another opportunity was heading our way. This time everything was perfect. The lure twitched, the redfish reacted, and the rest as they say is history, only it wasn't all that boring as these fish can really put up a battle. As soon as it felt the barb it started a high-speed streak across the flat trying to get to the edge, I assume. The rest of the school bolted in a spray of white foam. After many more runs against the drag than I would have expected, there was an incredibly shiny copper colored fish at boatside. It was about 10 pounds. We passed some time here getting our rods bent as we targeted fish after fish. There were enough shots to take that spooking some had no effect on the day other than encouraging some humorous remark. The clouser fly worked well; in fact it had an advantage over the spinner lures. Many times the fish surprised us as they changed direction while the lure was in the air heading toward the perceived interception point. With spinning tackle this meant a lost opportunity, but with fly all it took was stopping the fly short while beginning another backcast. If the fish was still within range the fly could be presented to the new perceived interception point. This happened several times as these fish seem to just wander around aimlessly on the flat in search of food with any distraction causing a change in course. After a while John suggested that we go in search of the big ones again, so the tackle was stowed and off we went. We headed through the man-made ditch that connects the Indian River to Mosquito Lagoon. It is a manatee zone so we idled along which gave us time to break out some food and enjoy the scenery. All along this stretch, which apparently has road access, there were pickup trucks backed up to the waters edge. People were sitting in the pickup beds with their rods leaned against the tailgate the way they might lean on a boat's transom. When we passed out of the ditch we entered the lagoon. Off to our right was Kennedy Space Center, with its huge assembly building and a space shuttle all loaded to go for a launch three weeks away. I asked John what it's like to be on the water here during a launch. He said it was magnificent and that he only charged triple for a launch date charter. He was kidding us again, but I made a mental note to schedule a future trip to coincide. Once in the lagoon, we hit planing speed again and headed for a point way off in the distance. There was a long bar there along the edge of a huge flat. When we were still hundreds of yards from the edge of the flat we could see movement that indicated alarmed fish. John announced that this was a school of the big ones. He was surprised and annoyed to see how skittish they already were and said we might have trouble targeting them. He suggested that we might have to try dead bait, as this would give us the casting distance if we couldn't get close enough. We wanted to try artificials first of course, so we polled along getting into position to intercept moving groups of huge redfish as they milled about. Every single time we cast they would turn off in another direction obviously disturbed by the little splash the lure or fly made and a couple of times a bad cast allowed the flyline to pass overhead causing the same reaction. After about an hour of this, we relented and told John it was time to try bait. I was surprised to see that the bait he chose was half a mullet or half a small ladyfish (about 5" in length) with a hook through the lips. This of course had the weight to make for a long cast. To our surprise this didn't work either. Every cast was aimed to be on the route these fish were travelling. Of course they often changed course, but many times they traveled right over the bait. It was frustrating. They just kept on swimming. We could only guess how big these fish were by the size of their tails and the size of their wakes; but John knew for sure and confirmed that they were 25 to 35 pounds. We tried several spots in the lagoon and everywhere we found the large fish they reacted the same way. Only the smaller fish seemed to cooperate. One slot sized fish grabbed the bait which seemed kind of oversized for his mouth but he gobbled it right down, further confusing us about why the large fish didn't seem to react to the scent of the fresh bait. John decided to try all the spots in the river proper that we had fished in the morning as we worked our way back to the ramp. This time there wasn't a single fish on the flats we looked at until the last one before heading in; the Tail. John's trained eyes spotted the huge tails at an incredible distance especially considering that the wind had come up and there was a little chop on the surface. He killed the engine and began to pole toward them. Fortunately there were no clouds in the sky. The white reflections off the water make it harder to see what lies beneath the surface. John put us in the path of a moving school and we sent out a couple of baits on the 20-pound rigs. This time things were different. The pickup was immediate and the reaction to the hook was astounding! These big fish are incredibly powerful, having huge broad tails and very muscular bodies. I was surprised to find that they could run harder and faster and last much longer than a similar sized striped bass. As soon as the hook struck home that first fish headed for the channel hundreds of yards away. John was frantically poling to slow down the speed at which line evaporated off the reel. Fortunately the channel only represents perceived safety rather than obstacles on which the line could be cut because that fish made it there without much trouble. The fight was exciting with run after run after run and finally dogged determination not to be brought near the boat. Finally this beautiful warrior was alongside. It looked like a brand new penny, only about 40 inches long! I couldn't imagine what the fight would be like on light tackle. I was now anxious to get one on the fly rod. We ran back to the flat and started poling again. John had cautioned me on the phone that we might have to wade to get close enough to catch one on a fly. He said that the lower profile of someone wading would make all the difference with these fish if they were skittish. I had purchased a pair of wading boots specifically for this trip. As it turned out, the fish weren't nervous and the light chop helped too. With the wind at my back I was able to make even longer casts and so never had to get out of the boat after all. I led a huge "V" wake and landed the fly A few feet in front of and past this "submarine". The third strip met with that wonderful resistance that signals a hookup. The few coils of line at my feet leaped off the deck and shot through my looped fingers toward the rod. The power of this first run was awesome. Within seconds the bright orange backing was flowing freely through the guides hardly affected by John's frantic poling after the fish. My drag was set based on having no flyline and about a hundred feet of backing off the reel. I could feel it tightening as the spool continued to shrink until I knew it was necessary to back off some. I find that the best way to adjust the drag mid-fight is to really know how much bend there should be in the rod. Familiarize yourself with what the rod looks like and what pressure you feel in your rod arm at the proper setting for your tackle. Do this at home with a scale that has a sliding indicator that stays at the maximum force reached after you let go. Try this for a few different settings until you get a feel for what the tackle looks and feels like while putting on maximum pressure (just before the line parts). Memorize all this and you will be able to adjust your drag effectively during the heat of the battle, whether it is done by hand palming of the spool or by reel adjustment. My rod bent to the point that indicated a need for loosening the drag. This happened a couple of times until the fish finally started to slow down. I kept the flyrod low and to the side; trying to put turning pressure on the fish cause I knew it was important to break it from that panicked flight into a more steady toe-to-toe battle. When I got it sideways to us, I started to gain line. The fish was working hard now, constantly pulling to its left and hopefully tiring out that set of muscles. When I got it coming toward us and it tried to turn the other way I palmed the reel and held the rod close to the water to put on enough pressure to turn it so that once again it was struggling to pull away to its left. I believe that letting the fish switch off gives it renewed energy. After what seemed like forever the fish was finally at boatside. John lovingly reached down and cradled this huge and beautiful fish in one arm as he plucked the fly out of the corner of its mouth. He said it was 40 inches long, weighing about 30 pounds. He immediately began to "swim" the fish back and forth until it had enough strength to swim out of his arms. The redfish in this area of Florida are residents. These huge fish don't migrate up the coast to the outer banks of North Carolina, they are found in Mosquito Lagoon and the Indian and Banana rivers all the time. John takes good care of them because they are his "meat and potatoes", providing angling thrills for his customers year round without diminishing in numbers. Now it was Bob's turn, so back we went to start another pole/drift in search of the monsters. We found them fast enough and they were still in a feeding mood. The ladyfish chunk landed in the path of a group of moving fish and was instantly gobbled up. The line began to sing off the spiderwire rig. John prefers this to lighter tackle for these huge fish because he fears that too long a battle might endanger their survival. It turned out to be a darned long battle anyway as this fish did what all the others had done; it ran like crazy and then resisted right up until the end. We headed back to the flat for one more drift, but the fish seemed also to know that the day was over and we couldn't spot them anywhere. We took off for the ramp, completely satisfied with the action we'd had, and anticipating the very satisfying meals the two reds in the cooler would make. If you haven't done this kind of fishing, you just have to try it. Sight casting to fish this powerful and this beautiful in water that barely covers their backs is extremely exciting. Knowing that this population of fish lives here all the time is extremely encouraging and hiring a guide who lives and breathes this kind of angling raises your odds of "seeing red". Let me send you out with an expert so you can feel the power of these awesome fish. (Click Here to book a charter)

One for the grill