CASTING & BLASTING

CASTING & BLASTING

I’ve had an exciting and busy week.  On Monday I headed south to fish Ochlocknee Bay for redfish and trout, and then this Saturday I took advantage of a wood duck hole I had been watching all year.  I had mixed results, but had a ball casting and blasting.

My history with Ochlocknee Bay is a mixed bag.  I’ve had a lot of success toward the mouth of the bay at Bald Point and to the east in Oyster Bay, but the back of Ochlocknee Bay has always been a challenge for me.  There are fish there and people do catch them, but so far, I’m not one of those people. 

 

I arrived early Monday morning and found a deep hole around 35 feet to fish.  The hole was just off the end of the seldom used boat ramp from which I launched my kayak.  I fished with cut mullet and shrimp, and managed just a single sheephead.  These fish are fun and tasty, but not what I was after.  After striking out at my hole, I paddled up and down the bay, but never found the fish. 

My results this Saturday were much better.  I have a honey hole that wood ducks have been pouring into all winter.  I had purposely not hunted there just saving it for the last day of the season.  I was able to convince my brother and a few friends to sneak back there with me and wack em’. 

The morning was cold, but productive.  We arrived at the hole thirty minutes before daylight, and waited patiently.  Sure enough, the ducks soon began to pour in.  They arrived in groups of three up to ten.  The hunt didn’t last long, but we were able to find eight dead woodies between the four of us.  All in all a great morning. 

 

Controlled Burns: A Family Tradition

Controlled Burns: A Family Tradition

Burning the pine woods where I grew up was always a family event involving my parents, grandparents, brother, aunts and uncles.  One of my earliest memories is of my brother and I riding in the back of my grandaddy’s truck checking on fires.  We would bump along the plowed fire break, jump off the back of the tailgate, and then run to jump back on.  To eight year old this was big fun.  I also remember walking along enviously behind my Dad as he would set fires with a drip torch.  The wiregrass would flame up easily and begin to creep toward more of its kind, and soon it would seem as though the whole world was on fire. 

 

Controlled burning is important for restoration, animal habitat, and getting rid of unwanted brush.  For pine trees burning gets rid of unwanted vegetation that competes with the pines.  It also opens up the area allowing more sunlight to get to the ground which in turn produces more healthy vegetation.  There are not many more natural areas more beautiful than an open stand of pine trees and wiregrass.

Burning is especially healthy for game birds like the bobwhite quail. Quail rely on open areas of upland pine to thrive.  By burning these areas regularly it provides quail with good nesting areas and access to seed plants.  Deer benefit from controlled burns as well.  Fire helps the growth of certain types of weeds like legumes. This makes up a vast majority of a deer’s diet. 

 

 

My family generally burns in the late winter months, I think, because that is the when it has always been done.  There are good reasons to burn in the winter besides just tradition.  Conditions are more favorable and predictable.  Wind and humidity play a big part when using controlled burns.  Unpredictable and shifting weather can be dangerous.  Fires can and do jump breaks, and strong winds may push a fire in an undesirable direction.  By knowing as much as possible about the wind direction and strength ahead of time, major disasters can be prevented.

This week we have started pulling fire breaks around the property, and hope to burn soon.  I’m sure that it will be a family affair again this year.  At heart we are all just a bunch of fire bugs.

 

 

THE ESSENTIALS

Recently I discovered a great way to start an argument.  To a friend I suggested that the greatest farm pond lure ever was a broke back Rapala.  I was told that was a ludicrous suggestion, and that everybody knew that a Hula popper was clearly the best lure.  Another friend said it was a Texas rigged black plastic worm.  Still another said it was a beetle spin. 

The truth is these are all great lures.  If a beginning fisherman asked me what they should buy to target bass, these are the lures I would suggest.  An angler could take these four lures and catch bass in nearly any farm pond throughout the south.  They are all also easy to use.

 



The Rapala company was founded by a Finnish commercial fisherman, Lauri Rapala.  Lauri would fish the remote lakes of Finland with baited lines and a wooden row boat.  While rowing the lakes day after day, Lauri had time to observe the behavior of the minnows and bait fish that inhabited the water.  He noticed that the wounded and struggling minnows were the first to be attacked by predator fish.  Working with cork and tinfoil Lauri was able to invent the original lure that would eventually become such a massive success throughout the world. 

 

 

Since then the lure has evolved into what it is today.  What I like about the lure is it is an active lure that any dummy can use.  Throw it out and reel it back in.  The action is very lifelike and it catches big bass. 

While I can argue which bait is more effective to use in ponds, I can’t argue what bait is the most versatile.  The Texas Rig plastic worm is far and away the most versatile yet productive artificial bait known to man.  It can be fished fast or slow, on top of the water or on the bottom.  It can be used in all sorts of conditions, and still be effective. 

 

 The plastic worm is widely believed to have first been brought to production by Ohioan Nick Crème.  It was in Texas where anglers first  figured out that if fished weed-less with a bullet weight then the worm was bass candy, thus the name Texas Rig.  To learn more about the history of this bait check out this wonderful article written by Louie Stout on bassmaster.com http://www.bassmaster.com/gear/worm.

 

The Beetle Spin is also a versatile bait for farm ponds as well as for creeks and small rivers.  Invented by the late Virgil Ward, these lures have been around for years.  While anglers probably can’t expect many big bass to hit a Beetle Spin it will catch them.  The diminutive lure will also perch, blue gill, and shell cracker.  I’ve even hooked chain pickerel and catfish with them.  This lure is small but productive, and is used by anglers on every skill level.

 

The Hula Popper is not the most effective lure or the most versatile.  I’ve only ever fished the lure one way and that is with a pop-wait-pop-wait retrieve.  In the winter the popper should probably not even be used.  During the prime bass fishing months the only time I ever even really use it is late afternoon, early morning, or right after a rain shower.  However, there is no doubt that among the four essential lures this is the most exciting to use. 

The popper is a top water bait and there is no thrill in bass fishing quite like seeing the explosion of a big bass grabbing a lure on the surface of the water.  Poppers also seem to attract bigger bass on a more regular basis than the other lures. 

These are, in my opinion, the four essential lures any bass fisherman needs, particularly for those anglers fishing in small farm ponds.  The lures are all great for beginners because they are simple, and in the case of the Texas Rigged plastic worm and Beetle Spin extremely versatile

WINTER FISHING

In the heart of winter I often spend my time getting my flats tackle ready.  I re-line reels, fix broken rod guides, and stock up on bargain sale lures.   I’ll often spend hours pouring over Google Earth looking for a new honey hole, or reorganize my tackle box for the hundredth time.  All of these are just distractions, of course, a way to calm me down for when the flats come alive in the spring.  My favorite time.

I love fishing the grass flats that stretch across the northwest coast of Florida between Keaton Beach and St. Joe Bay.  Nothing pleases me more than to drift the flats in the spring tossing soft plastics to speckled trout, redfish, flounder, and many other species.  Sometimes the fishing can be so good fish can be caught on nearly every cast.  This changes in the winter. 

Redfish and trout like to bunch up in deeper holes in the coastal rivers and creeks.  This is not a bad thing because if they can be found, the fish can be caught in bunches.  Hole hopping is not my favorite way to fish, but is the only way I know to catch these flats dwellers when the water turns cold.  There are some good areas to try around Ochlocknee Bay, St. Marks River, East River, and the Aucilla River. 

In the winter I prefer fishing live or dead shrimp, or some type of cut bait like mullet.  Winter fishing requires more patience, and the fish don’t react to a plastic bait jigging around like they do in the spring.  My basic rig is a medium 7ft spinning rod with a 440 SSG Penn spinning reel.  The line is 15-20lb braid Carolina rigged with an egg sinker and a 2 ought circle hook.  Preferably I’ll fish an incoming tide, and hope for the best.  I generally give each hole around thirty minutes or so before moving to another location. 

This week I’ll be heading to a hole my brother told me about in Ochlocknee Bay.  I’ll be in a kayak as opposed to a boat, so if the fish aren’t there I will not be able to move around to another hole.  Hopefully my plan will come together.  Happy fishing everyone! 

DUCK STALKING

 

DUCK STALKING

 

A few weeks ago, when duck season opened, I along with buddies Josh and Ryan decided to float my favorite river, the Ocklocknee, in search of wood ducks.   We had not scouted the river before hand so we were unsure as to wheather there were ducks there or not.  Boy were they there.

 

Almost immediatley after launching we had ducks passing over.  Most were to high to shoot at, but we did get a few shots off.  Our hopes were that the river's sloughs would be full of ducks, and we could quietly slip up on them in our kayaks.  Some sloughs did hold ducks, but most were packed into the back and we could not get to them, before they noticed us.

 

Many other ducks igonored the slough's altogether and simply swam in the middle of the river.  We soon developed a method of duck stalking that helped us bag a few.  One person would paddle up front as stealthy as possible, while the other two would hang back.  The point man, if he was quiet, could get pretty close to the ducks, before the ducks took off.  We nearly bagged our limit.

 

 



 



OSSABAW ISLAND HUNT

OSSABAW ISLAND HUNT

 

As I stood, soaked in wet clothes, under an inadequate wooden shelter getting pelted by sideways blowing rain I thought how good a hot cup of black coffee and a biscuit would be, and about how I would enjoy neither of those things for the next week.  Instead I would be tromping through the swampy palmetto sloughs that make up the terrain of Ossabaw Island.  I was there to hunt hogs and deer with my nephew Steven.  I was excited by the prospect of the hunt, but regretted not stopping at the McDonalds in Hinesville to fill up on one last time.

 

Ossabaw Island lies off the coast of Georgia twenty miles or so from Savannah.  The island covers roughly 26,000 acres, much of it marshy swamp.  Hogs and deer rule the island with a few feral donkees thrown in the mix.  I had been warned though, it was illegal to shoot a donkee.  Ossabaw's ownership had changed hands several times through the years.  It had been used by the Guale Indians, Creek Indians, the Spanish, the English, antebellum planters, small tenant farmers, and wealthy Yankees, the last of which was Eleanor Torrey West.  Today the state of Georgia owns the island, and allows a few quota hunts each year.

 

The turnout for this hunt was fair.  There were maybe 50 or so kids with that many more adults.  Each kid had to have an adult hunt with them, thus my presence.  The first day on the island no hunting was allowed, and we had to wait around to attend the mandatory meeting given by DNR officials, as well as select our hunting spots.  We signed up for our spot, a first come first serve process, that can lead to fisticuffs if someone's coveted spot is seen as taken unfairly. Fortunately, we were able to avoid any violence.  At the meeting it was explained that everyone would leave camp by five every morning to hunt, and to please not shoot the donkeys. 

 

 

The next morning the island was greeted with temperatures below freezing, and a swirling wind.  I was dressed in all the dry clothes I could find, but I still shook for a while.  After a chilling ride in the back of a DNR truck, Steven and I were dropped off at our spot.  We waitied an our or so for the sun to come up, and then began our creep into the brush.  Once we began walking it didn't take us long to spook our first hog, and a short time later a deer. 

 

I was excited by seeing game, but frustrated by spooking the deer and hog.  We were stalking slowly in a step-step-listen fashion, and soon our patience paid off.  We had been following hog sign in and around numerous slough's for about two hours when suddenly there was a nice buck twenty five yards in front of us.  Steven steadied the rifle, made a good shot, and after a few minutes of tracking we found the dead 9 point.  I got turned around dragging the buck through the thick brush, but was eventually found by brother-in-law Steve, who also made the trip, and he pointed me back in the right direction.

 



 

After finally getting back to camp and unloading the deer, Steven and I almost immediatley went back out again.  During this hunt we picked a different part of the same area to hunt.  This time we picked our way around the edge of a marsh thick with hog sign.  Shortly after stricking the sign the two of us were face to face with several piglets.  They knew we were there, and after several minutes with neither side moving, the hogs backed into the tall grass of the marsh.  I was afraid we had missed our opportunity, but a quick few minutes later, a big white sow showed up.  Steven made another good shot, and we had an 80lb hog to drag back. 

 



 

The next morning Steven and I again hunted around the marsh where we had killed the sow.  We worked our way farther east than the afternoon before, and soon found a good stand of fallen acorns.  This was the first time we had found any acorns in good numbers the whole trip.  I felt confident we could get a hog there, and slowly moved forward.  Soon enough we came upon a black boar rooting.  Steven threw out another good shot, and we had another hog down.

 

 

 



That afternoon we agreed to switch spots with Steven's younger sister, Caroline, so that she might have a better shot at killing a nice hog.  Caroline, only ten, had already killed a spike, and wanted to add to a hog to her total.  The area Steven and I moved to was just as marshy and wet, with more hog sign.  It didn't take us long before a 10-15lb piggy walked out on us.  We stood motionless hoping a better pig would step out behind the younger one, when off to our right two deer suddenly appeared.  Steven pivoted and shot taking the smaller deer through the heart, and dropping it there.  I quatered the deer threw it the backpack and moved out. 

 

The next day was our last to hunt, and we chose to stalk a new area.  The area was shaped like an extended finger, and was bordered on both sides by water.  There were three obvious choke points, and Steven and I had been advised to hunt nearest the third choke point, as nobody had hunted that far down all week. 

 

Again we were dropped off early and had to wait an hour for sunrise.  When the sun was up we began our familiar creep through the woods.  Soon Steven spotted several piglets in front of us feeding, but there were no shooters in the bunch.  We carefully stepped around them and kept moving forward.  Just before the third choke point we found a bunch of big hogs relaxing near the edge of a pond.  There were maybe seven in all four of which were shooters. 

 

Just as we spotted the hogs, they sensed us, and began to get restless.  They were sniffing the wind and beginning to move about cautiosly.  A big black boar was the last to rise, and he paid for his laziness.  Steven made another good shot, and the boar fell dead. 



 

That night back at camp everyone celebrated when Steven's younger brother, 8 year old Jack, brought an 8point buck back to camp.  Steven's other brother, Matthew also killed a nice hog, and Caroline had shot one, but he couldn't be retrieved.  The hunt had gone wonderfully and I hope to have the opportunity to do it again soon.