June 27, 2018--What is it with fish? Whenever we go fishing, they seem to
go somewhere else. Maybe it’s the heat, because it is hot in Florida. It’s been in the mid-90s for several weeks, with humidity
to match. (As a side note: I saw a statistic the other day: Jacksonville is the
second-most humid city in the United States, with an average humidity level of
75.8%. New Orleans beats us with an average of 75.9%. I’ve had the misfortune
of living in both of these cities.)
This state park (Faver-Dykes, south of St. Augustine) has a
lovely fishing dock. At least, that is what it is called. I think a better
label would be “observation deck.” We observed at least one gator, a few birds,
a lot of mosquitoes, but no fish. Nary a nibble, both times we tried fishing
from it. Ah, well.
We next tried the fishing pier in Flagler Beach. Nice pier;
lots of people using it. But few catching anything. Jim caught a couple of
small whiting, not big enough to filet. And one young man caught a shark, which
he landed right by us.
The shark put up quite a fight. Despite the fishing pier’s
rule against shark fishing (you can’t help it if you catch one, but you need to
release it), the young fisherman was intent on landing the shark and getting a
picture taken. That would have been OK, except that to haul it up to the pier,
he had to use a gaff, which tore into the shark’s torso. I doubt that shark
survived the ordeal.
The best times to fish are when the tides are either coming
in or going out. (Yes, we were at the park’s dock at the right time, as well as
the Flagler Beach Fishing Pier.) So, yesterday afternoon we went to the ocean
around the Matanzas River Bridge on A1A. We were told that that was the area
where many people surf fish.
We found a good place to park, found our way down the
embankment and out toward a point where fishing generally should be good. The
tide was, indeed, coming in. Fast. So fast that after about 20 minutes we
suddenly realized that we needed to pack up and move, else we would be wading
through water to get back to the car!
As we packed up, another fisherman advised us that fishing
was generally pretty good down the beach a bit (probably about a quarter mile).
Instead of heading home, we repositioned and starting dipping our lines again.
Obviously, our attention was on the ocean to the east of us,
but we after getting set up, we casually looked over our shoulder to the west
and saw very dark skies. Checking the phone’s weather app, we saw that a storm
was heading our way…maybe. It might hit us; it might not.
I am skittish about storms. Just this week, someone was
killed by a lightning strike on a beach in northeast Florida. We packed up and
headed home. (The storm missed us incidentally. But better safe than sorry.)
This morning, we went back to the same spot on the ocean as
the tide was heading out. Jim does the casting; I was watching the lines. I
suddenly saw one of the lines bend. The action did not look like it was caused
by the waves or current. Was there a fish on it? I decided to reel in the line
to take a look.
I cranked and cranked. Something heavy was on the end—or the
line was snagged on some rocks. I finally handed the pole over to Jim, who
continued to reel it in.
What did we catch? A sea turtle.
No, it did not bite the hook. The poor baby got its fin snagged
in the line. Jim hauled it in, untangled the line, and let it go.
As the tide kept going out, it was necessary to wade out
into the ocean to cast into the deeper areas where fish might be lurking. I
wasn’t too successful wading. Every time I waded into the water, the sand (much
like quick sand) sucked me in.Literally. I finally gave up.
Jim didn’t, however. He took a pole and waded out quite a
distance. He finally caught a black drum. Unfortunately it was about an inch or
so too small.
So where does that leave us? A great time, but no fish.
Fortunately, I brought plenty of food for dinner.
Tomorrow it is home again.
This may be our last RV trip. (If you know anyone looking to
buy and excellent small RV, let me know.) It won’t be our last fishing trip,
though.
Until next time,
Your Reluctant RoVer,
Linda
