When Teresa told me her parents and aunt and uncle were coming to visit, I told her to let them know that if they wanted to eat fish, that they would have to stop in Matlacha at one of the fish houses and bring their own (BYOF if you please). I was not being a bad host, but simply reflecting the sad truth that the fish that were once abundant and available for harvesting are now all gone from the red tide or are properly being protected by a closed season where snook and redfish must be released if caught. I do enjoy fresh fish occasionally, and since I am the only one in the house that likes fish for dinner, I look forward to those who do enjoy a fish dinner coming to visit. And my Mother-in-Law Carolyn really likes fish. Making things more interesting, Carolyn had apparently been talking up my fish catching and cooking skills with Teresa’s Uncle Robert, and he had great expectations of this fishing paradise.
So the perfect storm had come. High fishing expectations despite the warnings, no keepable fish around, me as a pleaser wanting to make everyone happy, only a long weekend to deliver the goods, and Robert who, as it turns out, likes to stir the pot when possible (quite effectively I might add). The first day produced two small grouper and one catfish. We made Robert throw them back as the grouper he caught was nowhere near a legal size, and the catfish, well we have written about our aversion to those slimy fish in other blogs. Knowing the conversation back at home would lead to the inevitable question “did you catch anything?” and when the answer had to include “yes, but we threw them back”, well trouble might ensue. I considered ways to report this empty handedness without increasing the disappointment of the fish eaters. Since there is no good way to deliver the bad news, Robert began to rehearse how he would throw me under the bus about this to Carolyn, “Well ol’ Dave made me throw them back, now I would have kept him…” You get the picture. As the day went on and we did not catch anything else, Robert continued to let me know how Carolyn had told him I was a great fisherman, could catch all the fish we needed. Only a soft hearted, manly-man like Robert could pull that off without hurting my feelings… much.
Fishing did not get any better as we continued to go from place to place, bait to bait, day to day. I even went out between our group outings on the off chance that some miracle fish might show up. Now I can usually catch something just out of pure determination, probing, trying, casting thousands of times, etc. but there was simply nothing much to catch. With my Father-in-Law Ralph, Robert, and Jason worn out and discouraged, I decided to head to the docks to see what was around after the evening dinner. No one else was up for another few hours of catching nothing, so off I went alone. With a heavy wind blowing into shore, and a bit of tide moving, there were the shadows of some snook! I ended up putting six on the beach and lost another six or so after hooking them, including two big ones which I was able to see for a few seconds fighting in the dock lights, but both threw the hook. I even landed a small redfish. I was tempted for a split second to keep one of the larger snook as it would have been a perfect meal. But with the knowledge of the damage done to the snook population by red tide and the ban on keeping them to allow them to recover the population, I released them all. Rule follower you know.
Given this productive outing, I was certain if we could get to the docks around the same time the next evening, we would have a similar outcome. However, we first had to give shark fishing a try since that also had potential for some high drama action. So we took a Jack that I had caught the day before (during the afore mentioned thousands of casts to catch something) and cut him in half, hooked up the shark rods and set up for the sunset, and hopefully some action. The odds were against us for the same reasons that we had not caught other fish. Sharks eat fish, and if there are no fish to eat, well, no sharks are likely around. The sunset was spectacular, the stars were wonderful as the light faded and darkness came on. The sharks however, were not around (or at least not interested if they were). Disappointed, but not surprised, we lugged the gear back home and reset with snook gear and headed to the docks to show Robert and Ralph all the snook and how we do our thing on the docks. Ghost town. Clear, clean water, nice clean sand, not a fish in sight. Anywhere. Jason and I worked all the docks and managed to only raise one skinny little snook. I suspect our big show for Ralph and Robert was quite disappointing. We slunk home with no real fish stories, even ones we could exaggerate for effect.
Since that time, for about a week now, we have seen the same thing night after night. Very few snook, and even those that are around are not feeding. But mostly, when we get to the docks, we just see clear water and no fish. The only exception was a few sheepshead and snapper.
Out of the need to catch something, I brought some frozen shrimp along and tried to catch one of the last fish around. In a few minutes of fishing, I caught two sheepshead, one snapper, and lost several others, along with a hook or two. As you can see from the cover photo, these guys have some nasty teeth in there. And yes, there was one big enough to keep and eat, but the fish eaters had gone by now, so I sheepishly returned the fish to the ocean.
Jason says he has never seen fall snook behave in this way in all the years he has been on the island; a full week of fish being absolutely MIA during October when they are usually the most active. Things have definitely changed, but we will keep working to figure out where they have gone, and look forward to the nights of catching twenty snook again. This is a good time to remember to savor the good times and not take them for granted. In the meantime, I may do more sheepshead fishing as I do like to catch something.
David