These fish will jump and flip to get away — but that’s part of the fun
If you fish often enough, you come to expect the unexpected. Over the years, I’ve seen all manner of crazy things on the water, from strange reptilian visitors to a miracle on ice.
Last week in Florida, I added another tale to the archives. My family was in Orlando for an early Christmas vacation, most of which was spent enjoying Disney World with my young daughter, Quinn. But I also booked a redfish trip on the saltwater flats — species and habitat I had never fished before.
The Sunshine State lived up to its name for most of the trip, but a big storm washed out my redfish trip. We rescheduled, but when stormy skies rendered the flats inaccessible again, Captain Jonathan of Go Castaway Charters audibled to some saltwater canals near Cocoa Beach.
“It’s more of a summer spot, but you never know,” he explained. “You can’t come all the way from Idaho and not fish.”
On our way to the coast, we drove through a deluge. Skies were clear when we launched the boat, but as we motored toward the canal, the wind shifted and sent an ugly mass of black clouds straight at us. As we idled past one canal-side house, Jonathan called out: “Charlie! You home? You awake?”
Out of nowhere, a jolly, white-haired fellow appeared on his back porch.
“Jonathan!” he smiled. “Tie to my dock and come in. You boys better wait this one out!”
We had just enough time to retreat to Charlie’s enclosed patio before it began raining sideways. For half an hour, we swapped fishing stories and Charlie filled us in on the difficulties of leaky patio roofs and crumbling sea walls. It all felt strangely natural, like three old pals shooting the breeze over coffee. And then, just as suddenly as it began, the storm disappeared.
“Welcome to Florida,” Charlie chuckled. “If you don’t like the weather, just wait 5 minutes.”
We thanked Charlie for his hospitality and resumed our float down the canal. At first, the waterway was lined with cool houses like Charlie’s, but after about a mile, we turned the corner into a wild, secluded mangrove forest.
Our strategy was throwing soft plastic swimbaits, not unlike models used to catch bass and other species in Idaho. The fishing started out slow, but there was no shortage of activity, from mullet (a small baitfish species) leaping through the air to a pink Roseate Spoonbill swooping over the mangroves.
A couple miles in, the bite picked up and we boated some speckled sea trout. They were small, but cool to look at. Despite a vague resemblance, these toothy predators aren’t related to freshwater trout.
Ironically, the highlight of the day was the fish we didn’t catch. One stretch of mangroves held several small tarpon, a species that has been on my bucket list since childhood. Jonathan hooked the first one and it went berserk, making four massive leaps before shaking the hook with a wild head shake.
Usually, a lost fish is a bummer, but Jonathan laughed and gave me a quiet high-five.
“Jumping tarpon in December, bro!” he whisper-yelled. “Epic!”
Tarpon are one of the toughest fish to land. On top of picky feeding habits — we had about two dozen nose our baits, but only four actually bite — they posses a rock-hard mouth that is nearly impenetrable. In the tarpon world, “jumping” a fish is a stat many anglers keep track of, and actually landing one is relatively rare (about one in 10, according to Jonathan).
We each hooked two tarpon, but none made it back to the boat. One fish went full SeaWorld, launching into an impressive backflip to shake loose. Despite our 0-for-4 performance, the challenge of stalking these aerial acrobats was a heart-pounding thrill.
While it wasn’t what I expected, I enjoyed my Florida fishing experience. A redfish trip — and successfully landing a tarpon — remain on my bucket list for now. But my daughter loved meeting Mickey Mouse so much, I’ll have no choice but to go back soon.
Tight lines!
Jordan Rodriguez has been fishing Idaho waters since he was a teen. Share your fish stories, adventures, tips and tricks with him at tightlinesboise@gmail.com or visit www.tightlines208.com.
This story was originally published December 16, 2019 at 4:51 PM.
