If one place doesn't fish...try another!

Drove out to the Everglades yesterday to a place called the Harold E. Campbell Public Use Area.  It's five miles east of Rt. 27 in an area of the Everglades called the "Holey <sic> Lands," since it was once used as a target practice area for the Air Force.  The terrain is apparently full of holes where bombs were dropped.  Google Maps confirmed the boat ramp mentioned in the online description of the place that I read.  Since it was five miles off the main drag, I thought there was a chance it didn't get much angler pressure.  The fishing would be in a canal that runs parallal to the access road from Rt. 27.  Since I hadn't been able to get  to that other canal a week ago or so, which is on the opposite side of Rt. 27, I thought I'd give this place a try.

Actually, to get to the Campbell area you have to go slightly past the Brown's Farm canal, which is the one I failed to get to a week ago.  This time as I approached the turn-off to Brown's Farm, I slowed down to take a look at the gate and fencing in front of the water control facility.  Well, yesterday the gate was open and I could have driven straight in.  I realized it's possible last week I'd driven by it so fast (I hadn't slowed down and pulled off onto the shoulder) that I hadn't seen that the gate was actually open then, too.  Maybe it was.  Maybe I'd seen the fencing and gate and since they looked closed, I'd just driven right by.  But I was pretty sure I'd do well at the place I'd set as my destination for the day (Campbell) and also, I worried about driving through those open gates now only to find that they were closed later in the day when I tried to get out.  Could that actually happen?  Yes, definitely it could.  So I merged back onto Rt. 27, made a U-turn a little past the Palm Beach County line and then turned off at the access road back to the Campbell Area.

The road was in good shape but was raised a couple feet above the land on either side of it.  If I came to a barrier, I'd have a tough time making a U-turn back to Rt. 27 with my trailer.  I'd have to uncouple the trailer from the hitch on the Subaru, spin the trailer around 180 degrees by hand and then re-couple it to my vehicle.  As I learned last week at Black Creek, you never know what you're gonna find when you arrive at some destination you've never been to before.  

Well, no problems yesterday.  I found the parking area and boat ramp at the end of the five mile road. The place even had a bathroom.  There was one SUV with an empty boat trailer parked in the lot.  I'd have no problem getting Kita (what I call my banana-yellow Hobie Pro Angler) into the water here.  But as I looked around from the bottom of the boat ramp, I couldn't tell how to get from there to the canal that ran beside the road I had just driven back to this place.  The ramp put you into a big rectangle of water.  From where I stood, I couldn't see if the rectangle of water in front of me led to an outlet to the canal.  Behind me was another large body of water.  Maybe that led to the canal.  I could probably fish either of these two bodies of water,  but the shorelines looked rather barren and I wasn't seeing any fish breaking the surface of either one.

I took out my iPhone and let Google Maps load up.  Once it did, it showed where I stood in relation to these two big rectangular ponds.  It looked like you got to the canal I was looking for at the far right end of the one directly in front of me.  That corner of the pond was about half a mile away and if there was an outlet way down there, I couldn't see it.

Nevertheless, that's the way I started pedaling, once I got Kita off-loaded from the trailer and all my gear in it.  I already wasn't all that happy about having to travel half a mile before I could even start fishing.  I still had a clouser minnow tied on my Sage Largemouth rod from my last trip.  I threw that out and let troll as I pedaled out 25 feet or so from the shoreline.  I'd pause to cast it toward the shallow water every so often along the bank and didn't pedal at quite top speed, to give the clouser a chance to lure a fish.

As I approached the far end of the water rectangle I confirmed there was indeed an outlet that must lead to the canal.  The shorelines I was passing had relatively little cover.  And there really  wasn't much spatterdock or submerged weeds in the shallows.  Every now and then I'd startle a gator resting in the narrow strip of grass just back from the waterline.  I still wasn't seeing much surface activity.

Once I got in the canal proper I switched from the Sage to my 7 weight rod with the sink tip line.  I started out casting one of my bright green Sqwirm Worms.

I guess when I decided to try this place I had figured an Everglades canal was an Everglades canal - they're all full of fish, right?  Apparently not.  I spent about two hours working both banks of this canal.  I caught one small Largemouth bass and had a couple of "soft" bites.  This wasn't the action I was looking for.

I began to think I ought to try somewhere else.  I'd done pretty well at the Rt. 27 Canal a couple weeks ago.  It was about 10 miles south on Rt. 27, in the same direction I'd have to take later on to drive home.

By around 12:15 it was clear I wasn't catching much in this present spot.  So I pedaled back to the ramp, loaded up, and drove south to the same ramp I'd launched from a couple weeks ago.

I had the place to myself.  By then (around 1:15), the wind had come up a bit.  It was blowing south to north up the canal.  I headed north and cast my Tiny Green Popper (size 10) to the west bank.  Earlier, I'd thought the heat might to be too much by mid-afternoon.  But between the breeze and passing puffy clouds that blocked out the sun, the weather wasn't too bad.  Also I'd brought a lot of water with me.

I started picking up fish pretty quickly and the action continued in fits and starts until I called it quits around 4:45.  I'd estimate I brought around 30 fish to hand, mostly LM, but also Bluegill and even a gar that snapped its long snout down on the the TGP.  Biggest LM was around 15-16 inches, a few in the 12 inch class.  The BG were mostly pretty small.  Several times I'd sense a strike, pull the rod back quickly and yank the poor fish clear out of the water.  One I even smacked into the side of my kayak. These fish were tearing up my TGPs.  As an experiment I tried both the Sqwirm Worm and the next size larger popper I had with me in bright green.  They did attract fish but the action slowed way down.  I could catch fish every few casts on the TGP, or once every 10-15 minutes with something else.

At one point I was hauling a small BG back to the boat when it was attacked violently by two larger fish - LM, I'm pretty sure.  These bigger fish swirled at it several times but couldn't quite swallow it. 

Thinking about it now, what I could have done was transfer one of these little BG I was catching on the the fly rod to a 3.0 hook on my spin rod and let the fish swim around out there and see what it would bring up.  I bet the biggest fish in that canal (and maybe some gators, too, unfortunately) would be interested in a distressed BG swimming around.  Next time I'm there, I may try that:  catch "bait" on the fly rod, then use it to attract larger fish on the spin rod.

I could have fished the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening and kept catching more bass, etc.  But I felt I'd already done well enough for one day.  

I pulled Kita out of the water around 5 p.m. and a little more than an hour later I was home.  That spot seems further from here than it actually is.  The drive is pretty much all highway - no stopping and starting at myriad traffic lights, as when I have to pass through towns like Jupiter or Stuart on my way to inshore (salt water) destinations.  

I noticed yesterday that the water level in that canal is way down from what it must have been a couple months ago.  The low water gives fish fewer places to hide.  I was finding them under spatterdock pads every few feet.  Whenever there'd be a bit of a clear space back to the bank, I would cast back there and almost every time something would dart out and try to grab my fly.  Even some of the larger bass I caught were hanging out beneath those "parasols."

Not long after I got there I had pulled off amongst the spatterdock to untangle my line.  I'd nearly run over  a couple bass sheltering there.  They didn't spook at my presence.  So once I fixed my line, I dropped my fly right down on top of them.  They both exploded on it - and missed.  I dropped it on them a second time and caught one of the two.  It was that kind of day.

Maybe with the water level up early in the year, that spot wouldn't fish so well.  But earlier in the year, I can fish and do well at the cypress swamp up at Riverbend.  When the level in the sloughs up there gets too low, I can switch to this canal.  Both places are about equidistance, in terms of driving. But at Riverbend I've got the double kayak-portage issue, to get back to the cypress swamp, where at this canal, I'm casting and catching fish five minutes after I put in.

What a place for fishing!

Didn't shoot any new video yesterday, but  the video I shot a couple weeks back shows you what it's like out there:  http://youtu.be/d1UWDo8Y2Ic

Black Creek disappointment

Drove a long way yesterday to Black Creek in southern Miami-Dade looking for peacock bass.  According to an article on the Florida Wildlife Commission website peacocks are supposed to be plentiful down there.  The article also said access to the water is available via a boat ramp near a bridge that crosses the creek.  Well, the article is out of date.  You can't reach the boat ramp because the gravel road leading to it is blocked off with a steel gate and posts meant to prevent any four-wheeled vehicles from getting back there.

When I first saw that, I thought I'd made the long trip for nothing.  But I walked around a bit and found a bank on the other side of the bridge where I might be able to slide my kayak off its trailer and down into the water.   It was about four feet from the bank down to the water, but luckily there were a couple small grassy hummocks between the top of the bank and the water and I was able to slide my boat first onto those hummocks and then the rest of the way into the creek.

I'd already seen a large fish busting the surface when I first arrived, so I was anxious to begin fishing.  I started out throwing flies toward the spot where I'd seen that fish, at the intersection of Black Creek and a smaller lateral canal.  Then I moved on to fish the bridge pilings and beyond.  It wasn't long before I saw a peacock cruising along a few feet under the surface.  I threw a popper at it but it wasn't interested.

I continued east along Black Creek, fishing the bank to my left.  There were lots of trees and overhanging brush along that side of the creek.  However, there wasn't much spatterdock or water hyacinth floating on the surface, as you often see in canals in this area.  That may be why I wasn't catching bluegill and small bass, as I often do in canals where there is lots of cover for them to hide in. There was a shelf of limestone extending out from the bank about 10-15 feet where the water was only a foot or two deep.  As I pedaled along in my Hobie I was constantly scanning that shallow water for peacocks that might be soaking up in the sun in the shallow water.  I saw a couple but what I saw a lot more of was grass carp, although it took me a bit of time to identify those 30 inch fish as such.  I'd read that snook also inhabit this creek, since it's pretty close to Biscayne Bay.  I was hoping those big fish were snook but they lacked the obvious lateral line that snook had.  When one of these fish got close to me I saw the big bronze scales that marked it as a carp.

Here and there I'd come upon a bit of submerged weeds (eelgrass -not sure what to call it) growing in the shallows just before that steep dropoff to deep water.  I tossed my fly so that it skimmed along the top of these weeds, then sank when it reached the drop-off.  I allowed it to sink well out of sight, hoping some fish down there would grab it.

Eventually I reached the water control structure that's about a mile east of the bridge where I'd put in.  I had to turn around and head back the other way.  By then I'd caught three sunfish but no peacocks at all.

I fished back to the bridge and then west of the bridge for a quarter mile or so, passing the boat ramp that no one can use.  By then I was getting a bit discouraged.  I spotted a small pod of peacocks in the shallows around some sunken tree limbs.  I got one of them to chase my fly and appear to take it in its mouth, then spit it out.  I've heard that peacocks are quite aggressive when they strike.  Not these guys.  Probably they knew I was in the vicinity and were skeptical of anything that might have come from that guy in the bright yellow kayak.

Some folks dunk shiners for peacocks, I believe.  Maybe live bait would have caught me a few yesterday.  But I want to catch fish on fly tackle, which will work for peacocks...sometimes.  Just not yesterday.  I quit around four o'clock, feeling pretty disappointed that I'd gone to so much trouble to catch a few sunfish.  Well, as I say in the video, You win some, you lose some.

Here's video I shot, if you want to get an idea of what Black Creek is like:  http://youtu.be/aGoGbSnvJM4

Just don't get there expecting to put anything other than a canoe or kayak in the water there.

Everglades bass fly fishing

Drove out to the Everglades a couple days ago.  My original intention was to fish a canal I'd read about recently in the outdoors section of one of our local newspapers.  I was skeptical that the directions given at the end of the story were accurate, because they didn't match what I saw on Google Maps.  But I figured perhaps the Google Maps image was old and perhaps no longer matched what was actually out there.  Well, Google Maps was right:  there was no right turn near the first bridge beyond the Palm Beach County line heading north on Route 27, just a gated-off water control facility and a steel guardrail that went on for miles.  I could see the canal mentioned in the article but there was no way to drive along it for two miles until you reached the boat ramp. The writer figured out how to get out there but I couldn't.

Fortunately, another canal runs along Route 27 and there are boat ramps every few miles along it. So...I made a u-turn and headed back south until I found one and slipped my kayak in the water.

It was a breezy, overcast day following a cold front.  I started off heading south down the canal with the wind pushing me along at a pretty good clip.  I quickly caught several small bass on a popper fly. After about a mile I turned around and pedaled upwind in the opposite direction.  My Hobie kayak with Mirage Drive does allow you to fish in windy conditions.  But when the wind is gusting down in your face, the bow of the kayak tends to fall off to port or starboard constantly, forcing you to put one hand on the rudder control to correct your heading.  And since you really need two hands to fly-cast, it's a bit of a struggle to lay a fly out where you think the fish are.

Fish continued to slash at my fly as I was going north but they were in one of those moods where they grab it lightly in their mouths, then drop it as soon as you pull back on the line to set the hook.

This went on for a couple hours until I felt it was time to reverse directions again and let the wind push me back toward the boat ramp.  At that point I replaced the surface popper fly I'd been using with a bright chartreuse "sqwirm worm," which is a fly angler's version of a plastic worm used by spin and bait casters.  I tossed the sqwirm toward the bank to my left, which was mostly large chunks of limestone left over from the orginal excavation of the canal.  I'd drop the sqwirm worm on a chunk of rubble, then pull it off into the water and make it slither like a tiny snake.  The bass really liked it and I hooked many of them and even managed to bring some of them to hand.  I've fished that canal many times now.  It's full of fish--largemouth bass, bluegill, mayans, longnose gar, oscars, and who knows what else.  The biggest bass I caught wasn't much more than 12 inches, so it's not a place to go for lunkers.  But if you just want action, you'll find it there.

I didn't catch a single mayan, unlike the time I was there a month ago or so.  Mayans like it sunny and hot.  Since it was cool and overcast, they may have been feeling sulky.

I fished until around 4:45.  I saw only two or three other anglers on the water all day long.  Because the canal is close to Route 27, you do hear big trucks rumbling by all day long.   I myself prefer quieter waters but the fish who live in that canal don't seem to care.

Here's a link to video I shot of the trip:  http://youtu.be/d1UWDo8Y2Ic

Knocking wood for redfish

Drove up yesterday to try my luck again along Hutchinson Island on the Indian River. Had an obstacle to get around when I first arrived at the put-in:

Some inconsiderate person blocked the path down to the water, assuming no one else would need to get down there.  I inspected the gap on the left side of this vehicle and thought I just might be able to squeeze by it with my kayak loaded on its two-wheeled cart.  Fortunately, I made it.

Once out on the water I saw that it was really a remarkable day.  Almost no wind at all, cloudless sky, low humidity.  Couldn't ask for better weather conditions.

I began by trolling a Mirrodine lure behind my kayak up to where Blind Creek begins to narrow.  I made sure to work over a mangrove point from which a snook darted out last week to snatch that very same lure.  Well, that fish wasn't in residence yesterday.

I continued on down Blind Creek out to its mouth and then beyond into the main Indian River.  I had no action whatsoever for the first couple hours and was beginning to think this might be another skunk of a day.  But then while casting a deceiver fly in some stained water I hooked up with my old friend Jack (Crevalle).  He was only a pound or two but I was glad to see him.

The wind picked up just a bit and so I switched back to the Mirrodine, which would be easier to toss beneath the mangrove branches.  I was casting from only about 15 feet out from these mangroves and tried hard to "knock wood" - actually hit the bowed mangrove roots with the lure.  I saw a fish flash but I thought it might have only been a mullet.  I threw the lure in that same spot a second time and something came out and swallowed it. I figured it was a snook, given that it had darted out from heavy cover and snook are known as ambush predators.  It tried to scoot back into the mangrove roots but I tightened down the drag on my reel and managed to pull the fish away from shoreline out into open water.  Fortunately, my knot and 12 lb. test line held and after a struggle I was able to bring the fish up alongside the kayak.  No snook but a redfish!

With that encouragement, I kept knocking wood for the next hour or so with my Mirrodine. I flashed another fish at one point but he didn't actually strike.

Later in the afternoon I caught a nice sheepshead in the 2-3 pound range.  By then, the tide was in and there was very little room to slide a lure between the water surface and the overhanging mangrove branches.  Throughout the afternoon I saw lots of surface action and tried to entice a strike with a popper fly.  But unlike last week, no ladyfish rose to smack it.

I fished until around 4:30.  Whoever had blocked the path to the water with his vehicle had left for the day, so I had no trouble getting back up the path to my car.

Here's some video I shot yesterday:  http://youtu.be/_nrNIJ3JNGE