hawgenvy

My wife and I and her brother's family were visiting all our kids at summer camp in upstate NY -- this adventure took place a couple of decades ago -- and we stayed at a local hot spot called Scott's Family Resort ("Since 1869"). The place had seen better days -- had probably peaked about a hundred years ago, and by now was just a touch on the extremely musty side. There was the main hotel (where my sister-in-law drank way too much one evening and at 2am woke us to let us know that all three of our young kids were gay, which they are still not), and there were also some outer cottages that leaned quite a bit. But the place was, honestly, on a very gorgeous lake. To find something to do the first evening, we wandered over to the old entertainment room and sat in the folding chairs among a dozen other guests to hear a musician on the stage, a straw-hatted singing banjo player that could not possibly have been under 103 years old playing songs from the 1910s, along with his young chorus of 90 year-olds. The entertainment was all very good only in the sense that there were no deaths or other medical emergencies during the show. We vowed never to attend another show at Scott's. The next morning I awoke uncharacteristically early (probably due to the asymmetrical mattress) and wandered down to the lake shore, where a blanket of mist hung over the clear waters, and the autumn colors of the trees above shone brilliantly in the rising sun. A man, a black man, was trying to overturn his overturned little skiff so he might fish a bit in the lovely morning, and of course I dashed over to lend a hand. Naturally, he then invited me along to fish. It turned out he was the grand entertainment that night. Indeed, he was the "amazing" Steve DePass, "Americas Singing Poet." He was touring all the finest country places. Anyway, we fished. We caught a one inch perch or two, but he asked a lot of questions about me, and by the end he knew all there was to know about my life. I promised I would be at his show. He was the big Saturday night attraction at Scotts. I told my wife the story and she said that's very nice, but going to the entertainment hall again was out. I said a promise was a promise and we HAD TO GO. She said "no" only 20 more times, and then agreed to go. This time the joint was packed. Lots of the local showed up, too (there's nothing else to do around there anyway.) America's Singing Poet asked over the mike if I were there (I raised my hand) and sang ABOUT ME for 20 minutes, and very cleverly, and funny as h**l, and I was down on the floor paralyzed with laughter and my wife thought she must have been transported to a parallel universe because this stranger was singing things about me that nobody else knew. Apparently, this guy can make up a humorous rhyming song about absolutely anything or anyone, instantly. And half the show was about me because I helped him lift his boat and went fishing with him for an hour.

I spend practically nothing -- compared to those guys who fish for marlin! I don't know why my wife can't understand this!

One more. I was fishing one windless autumn evening with a friend of mine in the Lousiana marsh, for speckled trout and red drum. This was back in the 1970s, before cell phones. You could rent a skiff with a small outboard back then from Blackie Campo's place in Shell Beach, about an hour east of New Orleans, where I was a student. We had motored over to Hopedale Lagoon and on into the endless brackish waters south of it, a pretty remote location. We fished around the reeds, pilings, and oyster beds for a couple of hours -- without a single bite. It was time to head home. But we couldn't get the outboard to turn over. The sun was setting soon. My arm was getting pretty sore pulling that cord. We played with the choke and the fuel bulb, to no avail. We decided to wait five minutes and give it another try. I gathered my strength and pulled once more as hard as I could. The motor's handle hit the underside of my expensive wrist watch and unlatched it. The gold watch flew off my wrist. We watched it sail through the air in a high arc, and kerplunk into the water. And of course, the motor did not start. What then ensued was ten minutes of silence. As the sky darkened we just sat there, kind of thinking, I think. I half-hardheartedly pulled the cord one more time. It started. We motored back to Campo's in the twilight.

Was fishing with a guide on Lake George in New York, for lake trout. I think we were trolling with a down rigger. I pulled in a rather big trout from very deep, and there was a second hook in its mouth, attached to a line. We pulled in the line, maybe a hundred yards of it, and lo and behold, it was connected to an expensive rod and reel that we recovered. Our guide recognized the rig, which belonged to a friend of his, another guide on the lake. After laughing for ten minutes, he called his buddy with the news.

These baits wiggle seductively even with the slowest fall. And they cast pretty well. No need to go above 1/8 oz.

Agree with RoLo. Toads and soft swimbaits like EZs can be magic in April. Bring some along!

Jig and craw trailer, blue, brown or green.

Didn't mean to imply that!

Apparently in China, which supplies much of the tilapia in the US, they are sometimes fed with livestock (pig) feces: http://www.snopes.com/food/warnings/tilapia.asp

This is the Florida Dept of Health guideline document regarding recommendations for fish consumption. It is interesting that for freshwater fish largemouth bass are considered the most unhealthy to eat, especially for young women and children, for whom in many bodies of water it is advised not to eat any at all. Larger bass are more dangerous. Of course, it is difficult to know how accurate the risk assessments really are. In any case it is a little scary and certainly does not whet my appetite for bass. Notice that even bass caught deep in the Everglades, many miles from civilization, are nevertheless considered to be a health hazard. http://www.floridahealth.gov/programs-and-services/prevention/healthy-weight/nutrition/seafood-consumption/_documents/2013-advisory-brochure.pdf PS: I suppose farmed tilapia that swim in their own waste products are safe?

I would like to know how contaminated, and with what, the canals along homes and golf courses are in my home town, but I don't really know how to find out. And how do I know if the information is accurate? I know I'd eat the bass from a country lake that's said to be clean in south LA or in central FL. But I know I would not eat a fish from the East River or from a pond in Central Park in NYC. And there is a lot in between! I have actually feasted on green trout from LA that we caught near Venice, and they were great.

It's amazing how those tiny necks can handle a fat bass.

I know I know nothing. When the guy in the front or the back of the boat is throwing a blue thingamajig and gets three bites to my none I later buy a bunch of those thingamajigs; and when eventually I cast them myself a half dozen times without a bite I'm convinced they're useless and I go back to senkos and my standby frogs and swimbaits. Now, I forget where I stashed those cursed thingamajigs. Oh, Devil, how is it the milfoil is always greener on the other side? Some jerk may fish the same exact jerkbait the exact same way for a hundred years without catching a fish and won't even consider changing tactics. That's a very happy man, jerk or not. I am the opposite kind of jerk, the kind that's always driven to try something else. That's why I have two dozen unopened skirted jigs and old boxes of plastic worms and swimbaits that I think wont catch fish this week or next. Well, at least I am a loveable idiot -- loveable to those who market and sell new fishing equipment.

You could get a senko down there nicely on a little shaky head jig. Shake it but keep it subtle, on some fluoro line.

Per my amateur observations, Boca Raton area fishing (I fish evenings) last year was awesome for big fish in April, May and early June, but almost stopped altogether at the start of July (except for deep canals deep in the glades). And good bassing didn't turn on again until late October, with the sudden and delightful appearance of schoolies busting shad everywhere, aggressive tough bass amenable to small baits of all kinds, but especially senko types. Other anglers may have a different, and perhaps more accurate, interpretation of these seasonal events.

I would definitely in theory cull some LMB out of some of the waters around here in SoFlo that are loaded with too many small fish. The problem is, I'm always worried they are contaminated in these suburban residential and golf course lakes and canals. This spoils my appetite for them in advance. And besides, their breath smells like steamy bog. Even out in the Everglades and on Lake O the fish supposedly should be eaten sparingly due to contaminants. If I thought they were safe I'd bring home some nice one pounders to fry up for dinner. After all, Micropterus salmoides is hardly in danger of extinction or even diminution in Florida. On the other hand, so many salt water fish species sold in restaurants and fish markets are slowly disappearing in the wild. So, I either eat nutritious salt water fish and help drive them to extinction, or I eat the local bass, destroy my nervous system and die covered in boils.

I know what you're thinking, but it's the 'Slap Yo Mama' that makes me talk to birds.

Waiting for my Dobyns Champ 735c and Lew's Tournament MB reel (8.1:1), along with a bunch of baits, hooks, tungsten wts, and some Seaguar abrazx #17. All supposedly coming to the door tomorrow. Better get flowers for the wife to soften the blow. Not ordering anything else for eons. (Except for the buzzbaits I ordered the next day.) Somebody, I need help!

I always keep that little red can of spicy Slap Yo Mama by the stove. I think it might neutralize all the mercury and pesticides that concentrate so heavily in our Florida bass, and it sure makes it taste good too! It will give yur mama a slap indeed!

The larger ones can taste kind of mossy, especially here in south Florida. I don't eat them anymore; but I used to soak thinly sliced filets in cold milk, salt, Tabasco, and white pepper for a half hour, then coat with corn flour and deep fry. Eat with lemon slices, tartar sauce and a beer. I can tell you, great blue herons like bass a lot. Today I was tossing a senko in a local canal for a half hour. From the bank. I hooked a dink bass on the opposite shore, water skied him in and threw him back. A great blue heron apparently saw what happened. The beast had about a six foot wingspan. Anyway, he dove from the sky right at me, and with fanfare, and screeching mad, landed with a dramatic whoosh on the shore not 5 feet from where I stood. "I'm sorry man!" I pleaded rather loudly, "I swear I didn't see you till it was too late. I would have given you that fish, really!" He stared at me silently with one big eye, and wasn't gonna move till someone gives him a fish. "You know, these are post-front conditions and it's going to take a few casts, but I'll get you a fish." He stood absolutely motionless but I could see his eye was on me -- and he was still mad. A few more casts, and nothing. "Okay," I said, "please be patient, give me a chance, I'll make it up to you." He didn't move a muscle. He was clearly counting on me, but he was also, I imagined, skeptical of typically hollow human promises. On the next cast I landed a dark chunky little 12 oz largemouth. I unhooked it and held it out to him. "See! I told you! Now, is this guy too big for you?" All he did is crouch down a little. Didn't say a word. "Okay, I'm gonna drop it right on the shore near your feet and then it's up to you, understand?" No answer. I dropped the fish like I said. He angled his eye downward only slightly; he seemingly didn't want to acknowledge the gift. The fish flopped around a couple of times at the water's edge, then righted himself and started off through the weeds. He did not get very far. Within a millisecond the bird speared his prey faster than a human eye could see, and a second after that the blue aircraft was flying away with the bass I tossed him in his beak, soaring off through the trees. He didn't look back, but did emit one last extremely loud squawk, perhaps for my benefit. It didn't sound at all like a "thank you." It was more like "SUUCKERRR!" Anyway, his recipe: Speer a fish, fly to safe ground or onto a tree, and swallow it head first. Burp.

Thanks, AVID!

That big lake by the Osprey golf course? I've been meaning to try fishing there from the bank but haven't gotten around to it. I think you can go in from Glades Rd.? I once tried a pond in the more northern part of the park near Kimberly Rd, where there was lots of vegetation but the fish were tiny dinks, and access difficult due to tall grass and bushes at the shore. I got scared off after I saw two cottonmouths at the water's edge and I was wearing light sneakers. Maybe I'll go check out that bigger lake over the weekend. Thanks!

You will be fishing less for the next 16 years.

Thanks for the tip, Shallow! I'll follow the lead.

In my home town, Boca Raton, Florida, there are at least several hundred man-made canals, ponds, and small lakes. The lakes and ponds are mostly residential, in golf courses, or in parks. Virtually of these bodies of water were dug for drainage and for collecting soil to build up the adjacent areas for homes, golf courses, commercial areas, etc. A lot of Boca Raton used to be everglades that was reclaimed for human use. Of the hundreds of bodies of freshwater in Boca Raton, I don't believe any of them are natural. Some of the larger canals may have boat ramp access. Virtually none of the ponds or lakes are large enough or suitable for bass boats. In my estimation, probably every body of fresh water in Boca Raton has bass. Almost all are amenable to shore fishing, though many are private and accessible only to members of the surrounding community or golf course. The vast majority of these, if you toss in a bait when they are feeding, will result in a bass on the line. Many of the canals intersect, many can stretch for miles, and many connect by underground pipes to nearby lakes or ponds. The lakes and ponds typically have pipes that connect to other lakes and ponds. I believe vast networks of suburban bodies of water are connected in this way. There are also dams, spillways, valves, and pumping stations that the South Florida Water Management District uses to control water levels in response to seasonal variation, rainfall amounts, storms, and for other factors beyond my knowledge. When a residential or other lake is dug, it is stocked with a particular balance of fish species to try to make it a viable ecosystem for mosquito larva control and for other reasons. Fish eggs also arrive on the legs of wading birds. Triploid (nonbreeding/sterile) carp are put in for weed control. Overgrowth of vegetation is also controlled by harvesting and chemical herbicides. I would like to know if there are legal guidelines for how the private lakes are managed. What are the rules? Does management of these bodies also have as an aim maintaining a viable bass fishery? Who manages these lakes and how are they monitored? What species are stocked and how often? Are the lake managers doing a good job? How do we know? What kind of chemicals are used for weed control? How polluted are these waters? How safe or dangerous is it to eat the fish from them (some folks do fish the lakes and canals for food)? Are there local biologists that are involved in helping to manage the public and private ponds? Living here and fishing here, I am eager to learn more about my local fresh waters, and would like suggestions or links to learn more on this subject. So any of you that can point me towards a source of knowledge, please do so. (I am not much interested in unsubstantiated opinions on the matter, however.) This map is from just the northwest quadrant of Boca Raton.