The flight attendant surely put the drama and queen in drama queen while going over the flight safety rules. “I like to look at my pretty self in the mirror.” “I always wanted to be a princess but instead I’m a queen.” “I save my girliest voice for Saturday nights.” I suppose he was just joking around, cause that sort of thing in the early morning seems kind of silly… “I rather despise looking at my aging, hairy, fattening self in the mirror.” “I always wanted to be a rockstar but instead I’m a husband, father and fishing god.” “I save my manliest voice for discipline and defence, and conquering fish.” I imagined the shock and awe on the faces of the passengers listening to me, all whom were expecting to hear, “now if the oxygen mask drops… your emergency exits are located over here and there”… etc. Although, in the end Ottawa to Toronto to Orlando was all rather fluffy and sweet, and come early afternoon I was on the ground in the cloudy, windy and rainy Sunshine State.
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Day 1. BULLSHARK.
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Having received an invite to fish shark in Florida from an online acquaintance, I was met up with at the Orlando airport. Over the next week the two of us would try our luck along the eastern surf and beaches, only just days after hurricane Matthew narrowly missed land. Along the drive to the shores and condo I was filled in on what was happening. “It’s been real windy, the waves are way too big for kayaking baits out and alotta places are closed due to hurricane damage.” Great! Sounded real promising I thought… “But this said, we have a plan.”
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And a plan there was. First stop Subway. Second stop bait shop. Third stop, ocean.
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A late high tide shortly after sunset meant we’d be kicking off this fishing trip for sharks in the dark. First order of business was a half kilometer walk in the sand towing the beach buggy. A flat tire made this a little extra work but the alternative was carrying a bag full of steel and bricks that weighed a quarter tonne. Surf fishing I would come to learn is some serious exercise.
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We waited around several hours for the tide to be right. In the meantime, a few others showed up to cast along shore for tarpon, reds, snook or jacks. One fella seemed to have his shit right together, and he could whip and place a long cast like it was nobody’s business. Not only that, he had a real knack for working a flare jig just so. In the span of a few hours he hooked up with snook after snook and several times had bigger fish snap him off or simply come unpegged. One ripper in particular was likely a tarpon because his reel just smoked off line like little I have seen before.
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Finally we were up. I watched on as the reel began giving up line on a loose drag before it was tightened up and the rod tip raised. A shark at the other end realized something was up and the fight was on After the initial run or two it was all work from then on in, so we took turns putting the gears to it. Finally at the beach a good twenty minutes later, I cinched the reel and walked back to pull it in shallow over the crashing waves while the shark was tailed in the shallows. One helluva cool experience.
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About a five foot bull shark hit the beach. With plenty guys around to help out, in no time the fish was swimming again after shooting some horrible photos.
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We then ran into some difficulties. The next four sharks came and went quick. On my turn I suffered two bite-offs and two dropped baits. So many sharks out there swimming together, it happens that other sharks and other fish too, swim into the line or swim over to a hooked shark that is struggling and the line gets nipped. Other times they hold onto the bait awhile but don’t hook up once we tighten and set.
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Finally a last shark of the evening took the bait right. I set on this fish well and good but it just screamed line off the reel and didn’t want to stop. With everything I tried to turn it’s head and pull it back but the fish would merely pause a second, feel me trying harder to bring it around and then take even more control. Each increasing effort to win line failed, the drag tightened to the point the shark was pulling me, so I handed it off to see if a fresh tank of fuel could muscle this fish. Rod in grasp there was nothing new arms could do either. A full 550 yards to the spool we were into the last fifty or so and headed to little backing. There was no choice but to break off or rip the hook out, and once we did, thankfully it broke at the leader knot. What in the living Hell was that I wondered…?
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Feeling positively used and abused, we retired to the condo and some cold beers well after midnight. Going one for six over three hours, it was a first day of sharking we could still call a huge success.
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Day 2. SPINNER.
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Most of the day was chilled away. First order of business after coffee was to re-rig leaders and feed the belly. Slipping on out to the local convenience store, breakfast consisted of one giant greasy meat pocket that exploded all over my face and arm. Still hungry but cleaned up back at the condo, we then got busy with things.
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Shark gear and rigging is kinda simple but timely work. Starting at the top end an extra heavy rod is a must. Because we didn’t use conventional gear at all; only spinning, a good size reel in a 10000 to 12000 series is necessary. For our trip everything would come on a 12-foot XH rod and 10,500 series Penn Spinfisher V reel spooled entirely with 100-pound braided line. At the business end, the line would tie to a 4 to 5-foot, 600-pound test monofilament whip leader. This leader isn’t for shock but rather to take the abuse a sharks tail and body can give to the line. Beyond the whip an 18 to 24-inch heavy 260-pound steel or cable leader ties to a 12/0 to 16/0 sized circle hook. All of the terminal hardware including 250lb swivel connections require solid crimping and proper tying.
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We also readied ourselves for casting spoons and jigs. After watching others the night before, it was figured we might as well take some time before shark to try our luck for the snooks and other fish swimming about. The mullet run was holding many species all together in the area, and to not take advantage would be a silly mistake. Nine foot heavy Ugly Stiks with 6000 Penn reels spooled with 50lb braid, we tied on 130-pound mono leaders before our lures. A potential for tarpon, we learned many anglers choose 80 to 200-pound leaders to handle the tail thrashing these brutes can kick up.
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A late red snapper lunch, showers passed through off and on while we drove our way down to the fishing grounds. Passing by many tackle shops, reaching the ocean it was rolling eight footers and the wind was blowing hard. The entire week we would stay in Florida the breeze would be onshore from the east and the surf always too big to kayak baits out. Casting into the blow was a real chore as well. Honestly, Mother Nature didn’t take it easy on us at all.
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The place to ourselves through the sunset, the rains now and again drove us back off the beach under palm tree umbrellas. Once night fell, out of the shadows a half dozen other anglers found their way to the shore. For us, no fish would be caught casting lures and once we began soaking baits for sharks, not a single fish would bite over the following three hours either.
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Alongside for the evening, we had the brief chance to meet others fishing, including Mike and Lydia. Surf casting a topwater with some serious skills, Mike hooked up more than once before finally making a fish stick. Big jacks, big snooks, big reds and of course even bigger tarpon, one might never know what they’re going to catch in this place, but Mike was convinced it was a tarpon that was screaming off line and putting his energy to the test.
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After a spirited battle, Mike hollers out with disappointment once seeing that his tarpon is in fact a spinner shark. The spinners are known for their wicked speed and aerials, so in the darkness it’s no wonder one could mistake the two. The realization though, that a shark was caught on a topwater, just kinda blows the mind a little. Once the spinner was on the beach, with precise and careful experience Mike retrieved his lure. Very cool to watch this all happen.
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We called it a night shortly thereafter, retreating to watch some shark and mullet run videos and scarf some pizza.
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Tarpon and sharks feeding on mullet.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iH2NeaOJGJw
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zA5mn423F9g
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Topwater blacktip shark fishing.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-TnEfeuk2z8
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Day 3. SHARKYS, SNOOKS & RED.
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The mullet run wasn’t missed by us, it was just somewhat out of sorts from the hurricane and high winds that followed. Having been another late night we rested up throughout much of the day, expecting and waiting for an even later tide.
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Once finally mobile we hit up a quick local restaurant which served up some kick arse subs and grub, I even bought the T-shirt. Fine food the place would become the daily stop for the rest of our trip. By dinner we were on the beach, set up and waiting for sun to drop.
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The rain held off for once, and before a full moon rise could light up the approaching darkness, the snook bite turned on. I landed about a half dozen, a new species being a snook and a second one too once catching a first redfish. What a great spot to fish!
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From the beach there’s snook, jacks, reds, snapper, tarpon and even more fish. And for sharks there’s blacktips, spinners, bulls, nurse, lemons, tiger and even hammerhead. All depends on the timing, yet always a wonderful salt water fishery. Flight, condo, food, gas, bait and licenses for a week at less cost than two days chartered or guided fishing anywhere really, it’s one honey hole to keep in the back pocket.
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Mike and Lydia returned once again. Hardcore anglers and awesome people I enjoyed visiting with them both. Through the earlier part of the evening I missed hooking up with several sharks. Maybe a little too excited on the circle-hook sets the first two were dropped baits and then a bite-off. After a couple of hours around 1:00am, Mike and Lydia had just left when finally the shark bait that had been soaking took a hard rip. Up to the task I took this one on.
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For 45 minutes a freight train on the other end of the line whistled and steam rolled. Stretched arms burning and my lower back cursed, it was all I could do with every ounce of effort I had to try and strain this fish in. After about twenty five minutes, a sharking regular Jake arrived along with others Josh and A.J. Announcing we had a big shark on Jake came over to me, shined his headlamp on the reel and said, “about 250 yards out still, it’ll be awhile.” I told him that didn’t help any.
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There were moments I had to sit down on the beach, plant the rod butt in the sand and take this fish on in an imaginary fighting chair. There were other times the rod came over the shoulder and I walked up the beach away from the surf trying to drag the shark closer. Josh eventually helped a little by holding the rod tip up for I was hurting to catch my breath and find a hold that didn’t further crush my cramped back and spent arms. Finally, in the last ten minutes or so the shark lurked in the surf before us but stayed parked just out of reach. Using the outgoing currents after each crashing wave, to bring the fish that last little bit closer the team pitched in and we heaved it shallow enough to where others could tail it. I wanted to collapse in a heap. The enormous rush and relief of my first shark.
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Tagged, measured and released, the bull shark hit the mark an inch shy of eight feet long. A rather girthy fish the estimated weight may be 250 to 275 pounds, and having been to battle with it I’d want to believe that guess is about right. The boys on hand who played a role in this catch made it truly a fish for us all. An impossibility for one person really, there was plenty teamwork involved.
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Exhausted I sat down by the cooler to relax and re-hydrate while the rest of the gang got back to it. Magnum P.I. even got on the case.
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A half hour passed with all sharing the rod and the fish proved to be another great test. Minutes later it finally reached the breaking waves in the light of our headlamps, and the fellas were quick to jump in and pull it to shore. It was another awesome bull shark as well, a beastly 103-incher with 56-inches of girth. An 8 1/2 footer of solid piggy proportions probably around the 300+ pound range.
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From the beach, back-to-back eight and eight plus foot bulls had been caught on spinning gear, shark Jake and others we would talk to all agreed, that’s nearly unheard of. Quite a feat really.
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Sunrise approaching the boys planned to stay out and fish all day, so we said our goodbyes knowing we’d meet up later. Our group had pretty much had the beach to ourselves that night, under a full moon light in a warm ocean breeze. When my spent and achy self finally hit the bed at 7:00am it was to instantly fall asleep.
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Day 4. THE RANGER.
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Woke up at 3:00pm stiffer than a board. Getting old sucks! Had to tour off to a Walmart and find a tire patch kit and a new pump because pulling that cart around on the beach with it’s flat tire was surely a nuisance. Took it upon myself to clean up the condo a little, make some leaders and breathe a little fresh air too.
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Tide was expected around 11:00pm to midnight so we had plenty of time to kill. When we heard from Jake and the lads that a new section of beach had just opened after the hurricane damage, that they caught a few sharks there, had an epic jack bite and now had plenty fresh bait for all, my head was eager to load up the car, hit the sub stop and go for another round. Wasn’t so certain the body would take the punishment again though…
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At the parking area we bumped into Lydia again, but Mike was stuck at work. Love how hardcore this woman is, getting out every night to chase big fish. Pulling the cart, patched tire fully inflated and holding, I didn’t look back once setting out to mule the gear to our spot.
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Crabs were on the beach everywhere. Early for the tide we sorta stood around and took the odd cast for snook. When it was finally time to soak a bait for shark I had just walked down to the water when behind me a Ranger snuck up behind. The skies opened up that second and it began to pour rain.
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A young man with something to prove gave us the third degree. “You realize this area is closed,” he told us. According to our buddies who had fished here all day it wasn’t, so when we brought that up he corrected himself and replied, “it’s closed at night!” The more we talked and the more rain came down, the more angry and annoying he became. The Ranger eventually took our fishing licenses after saying something about jail and fines. Asking us if we planned to stay and fish nearby or finish up for the night, drenched head to toe we decided to call it quits before even getting started. A hurried walk back to the car, two other anglers took $85 fines before us when finally the officer approached. “Don’t let me catch you fishing there again,” he ordered. I explained we didn’t know but went on to express how shitty all the closures and rules were and how it all totally affected our fishing trip after having traveled all the way from Canada. His tone changed for the better and we drove away without any fines and our licenses back.
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A days fishing was lost… but it continued to pour rain all night so nothing was actually wasted.
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Day 5. SEADOOS.
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Had a great sleep. We really did need to pick a time to flip ourselves off the dark tide and into the light. Jake, Josh and newcomer Matt had crashed overnight in the condo expecting us to be out fishing, but instead all the gang just slept through. Early Saturday morning, the Florida boys a little more rested they slipped away sooner than we could, and by the time we got moving and out to the fishing spot the shark bite was already on.
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Arriving the fellas were quick to tell us that we missed an incredible jack bite. Jake too had already suffered one miss and a Seadoo snap his line while he was fighting a shark. A wondering, panicked and suddenly slowed rider was surely spooked when his vessel cut to half power after his impeller sucked in yards and yards of 100-pound test line. Only place he’d be going next is to the shop. Lucky for him it wasn’t his throat that caught the line while ripping around and show-boating out there… Gonna play where many anglers are set up fishing, they’re asking for trouble. A whole ocean to roam, most of us could care less to see them spinning donuts and jumping waves within a stones throw of us and the beach. But it’s the same everywhere I suppose…
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My turn to drift a bait I was quickly into a shark but took a bite off. Trying again, I dropped a fish on the set before suffering a second bite off. Two bite offs and a dropped fish. The third bait out I popped into a hefty strong shark that wanted to pull me into the ocean and tear me apart. Ten minutes turned into fifteen or so, and a crowd had gathered to watch me fight with the fish. The boys cheering me on, we began to pull ourselves and the fish away from other anglers when out of the corner of my eye another Seadoo’er came ripping past us heading straight toward the line. Dropping the tip did little as this arsehole caught the braid and came quickly to a half stop. Spinning and trying to gain speed he was disconnected from me but likely attached to a shark. It took a moment or two before he broke free, but not without damaging his ride and ego. He sped off not to be seen again, but unfortunately we lost so much line from the reel our shark day came to an early end. Zero for four. I felt it rather shitty to set perfect into three out of the four fish and end up with none. Fighting fifteen minutes and losing to a Seadoo’er sucked most of all.
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With about four hours left before sunset and the guys wanting to stay and wait for the next tide to come in, I opted to hang out and fish snook and jacks.
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Watching the mullet schools swim in with the jacks and snook exploding on the surface after them is quite a sight to see. From Josh and Matt especially, I received a brief initiation and education into the world of salt water fishing. Jake and his friend Garrett who had arrived that afternoon, were also awesome to watch cast. There is a definite art to surf casting, the pendulum and pop, and observing their baits sometimes launch the length of a football field into the abyss is impressive. Like in golf, even the smaller guy with the right timing, technique and tools can cast the big distance.
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One young lad came down to the shore and squeezed in near us. His first cast sailed out and he quickly hooked up with a big snook. No picture, no smile, he cast out again and got another. In a few minutes I watched him hit four fish with two quality snooks while the seven of us saw Garrett catch one. The kid’s jig technique with a flare was unlike anything I had ever seen. It was almost anti-jigging or like reverse-jigging. Picturing how the lure would be reacting under water in the current it made incredibly perfect sense. It was actually brilliant and obviously the right way to work the flare jig under those specific conditions. My trying to imitate him I fell so short. I was unsure where in the water column to play it out, when best in the swing to start jigging and, felt it quite awkward to work a jig so opposite to normal. It’s not a pop up, drop and reel, it’s actually a weird and quick push forward, slow pull and reel… And in the current it must appear more natural as the way a baitfish would begin to flee with the flow. The kid rocked it.
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All the unlucky shark business that day had been a little deflating, but lessons learned during the evening while hanging out with the gang completely filled me up again. Witnessing new styles of fishing first hand and putting them to practice can be a great reward and definitely time well spent too.
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The jacks didn’t really turn on. I caught nothing. On the way back to the condo our group of Jake, Josh, Matt and myself were joined by Max and Riaha for dinner. Three days no catch, two days totally amazing and little time left, I was feeling the drive to push for a great ending to this trip. The plan at this point was to get up early the next morning and put in a full day. Jacks and snook then onto sharks when the tide is right. Before then, I would need some help retying the many leaders that had been lost this day.
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Day 6. BLACKTIP.
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My first lifetime jack cravalle came with coffee. Like the snook and red these fish were by no means giants in their class but, they were firsts and all something to build on. The flare jig worked too. It was a fast and furious start with everyone hooking into a little something and then it shut right down. Only the odd snooks seemed to keep popping up but they weren’t heavy hitting. Josh was the man in those hours picking up two great fish though.
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Before noon the entire gang left for home. All working folks and most having driven a couple hours, only the two of us remained behind for the shark party. We gathered our things, rode on over and set up as planned.
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The beach wasn’t as busy and luckily there seemed to be no Seadoo’ers in sight. Not many other anglers and no one shark fishing at all, I guessed we’d be into the fish in no time. Having waited through two days, missing all those sharks, I was raring to go.
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As it would happen, this time around I wouldn’t drop a fish, have a bite off or even deal with some Seadoo’er shredding across my shit. It was the perfect set followed by one fast and heavy ripping that powered line off the reel. Then when I cinched up the drag super tight and tugged hard the fish had no choice but to relinquish all rights and privileges over to me. Pump, reel, pump, reel, repeat. The hammers down I went ground and pound and forced one speedy and feisty blacktip into a first round submission. It was wicked awesome eh!!! Some folks watched on in awe, another got their child out of the water purdy fast. A purple flag was waving meaning dangerous aquatic life was swimming aboot. From the surf and hoping for a blacktip this trip, I got it. A great finish.
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Except for some nasty fire ants I stepped in, nothing else would bite for the rest of the afternoon. Once the burning pain in my foot calmed down and I shook some chaffing sand loose from my underpants, the day finally turned into a chill fest. Beers on the beach when no one was looking, sunset and lines out, everything was calm on the Florida front. We had fished all night and some sunny days too, through big winds, some heavy rains, wild surf, closures and da beach police, to catch 5 outta 15 sharks and take in a few extra salty fish along the way. It was agreed, to not let life just pass us by. To gamble a little now rather than maybe never play at all. Check it off that bucketlist as soon as it hits the bucket. Like it is with shark fishing, we take our chances for the experience and rewards, most times living right and winning big in our own minds…
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Catch that drift?
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The full moon rising I muled that damn cart off the beach one last time…
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Thanks to all those who helped out along the way.
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Bunk.