Trip to Flamingo

Inside Florida Bay anchored off a key named for a murdered game warden, my buddy Ryan Maloy and I sat in his boat fishing cut bait in three foot of water.  The hope was that a hungry redfish or passing snook would cruise by and we could finally land a fish.  In truth we would have settled for a curious blowfish or wayward grunt, anything to give our lines a tug. 

It had been that kind of trip so far.  Ryan and I were on our third day of a four day trip to Flamingo, the tiny outpost on the tip of Florida in the Everglades National Park.  We had planned this trip for months, and read everything we could regarding the fishing in the area.  Our plan had consisted of us boating tarpon, snook, and redfish until we just got tired.  No guide would be needed because we were prepared, confident, and first-rate fishermen.  Unfortunately our plan had not come together as expected.  Instead of catching fish we mostly eliminated water where there were none.  For almost three days. 

Ryan and I had started fishing in Lake Ingraham, a noted honey hole inside of Cape Sable.  With the exception of a lone jack crevalle we caught nothing.  The only other sign of hope we did have was when we were nearly spooled by what was probably a shark, but the line broke.  We tried some tidal creeks, before moving back out and fishing the area around Cape Sable, but our results never changed.  This day though, had been even more humbling and frustrating than the previous two.

Upon awaking that morning Ryan announced he had had enough of watching his boat get pounded while anchored just off Cape Sable.   Earlier we had decided to camp on the Cape forgoing the bat sized mosquitoes that infested the Flamingo campground.  The strong western wind though had kicked up more than expected and as a result Ryan’s 18ft Mako popped up and down like a yo-yo, with only one anchor holding it in place.  Since we weren’t exactly wearing out the fishing, Ryan decided we should fish our way back to Flamingo to spend the remaining nights on the trip there.  I agreed.

 

Moving back east we looked for likely spots which might hold fish.  Several good looking spots were located, but our bad luck held.  Finally, we came upon an expansive grass flat that reminded us of our flats back in North Florida around St. Marks and Keaton Beach.  We casted and drifted the flat until the tide ran out from under us. The depth had gone from around three feet to one.  The only way to deeper water was to pole and drag.  The process required Ryan to pole the boat as I got out and pulled toward deeper water.  This was exhausting work because I kept sinking to my knees in sticky muck.  Late in the day though we made it to deeper water, and finally to the channel back to Flamingo. 

On the way back to the marina, Ryan pointed a mid- sized island and said, “That’s Bradley Key.  Supposed to be good redfish there, you want to try it?” Really I thought it was futile, but I was tired of eating Vienna Sausages, and hoped we might get lucky and catch a catfish.  Vienna Sausages have their place, but a man can only reasonably be expected to eat so many. 

Bradley Key looked like so many other areas where we had already fished.  The island was of fair size surrounded by shallow grassy water.  It was ringed with mangrove trees, and home to more enourmous mosquitoes.  The island was named after Guy Bradley, an early 1900’s game warden who ran afoul of some ill tempered plume hunters, and was shot to death.  I guess our luck could have been worse.

 

 

Upon arrival we anchored on the east side of the island close to the bank.  We pitched out cut pinfish, which Ryan had snagged on a Sabiki Rig earlier in the day.  After a few minutes of waiting my rod got a quick hit then another, though the fish wouldn’t stay hooked, I was at least happy for the momentary excitement.  Suddenly Ryan’s rod bent over, and he set the hook.  Once the hook was driven home the fish began to fight.  He would make a run toward the boat swirl back and take line.  Soon Ryan had him under control and we had a nice red within the slot boated.  This fish was followed by several more reds and some awful tasty mangrove snapper. 

 

 

That night Ryan and I ate good.  We traveled back to Bradley Key the next morning, and caught more fish before packing up and heading home.  The trip was a humbling experience to be sure, but was worth it.  The Everglades are beautiful, and the fishing while not what I thought, turned out to be a blast.   I guessed the thing I learned on the trip is that you are only ever one cast away from going from a zero to a hero, and to always bring tons of bug spray.