Early

Running

Mercury rising

Game Time in the Mudhole

This year, it seemed like spring just wouldn't arrive. Every time nice weather seemed to be on the horizon, it snowed again. Even my snow blower gave in to the heavy toil and died.  Everyone was tired of winter.

Not only was spring late, but the stripers seemed to be, too. In early May, Long Island Sound water temps were still in the forties. Cool temps, wind and rain seemed to dominate the weather pattern. The flowers in our garden ran two weeks late.  

Finally the bunker arrived, and with them the bass and the blues. It's been game time in the Mudhole.

Bunker school at dawn

This year the bunker arrived thick. Whether or not you chose to believe or accept it as hyperbole, the tackle shops are buzzing with comments about "the best year in the past ten years for bunker." Or fifteen years. Or five.  At any rate, there are a good number of adult bunker that moved moved into the local harbors and estuaries by the middle of the month. So far, they've stuck around, which means the fishing has been good.

Typical fish this year have been 20 to 30 pounds

When big bass are your target, and the big bass are on bunker, you have to fish bunker. Although I would prefer to fling big bunker flies into schools of fish boiling on the surface, that doesn't seem to be common this year in the Mudhole. The fish tend to be deeper. This part of the spring run seems more of a bait game to me. 

Sleep patterns suffer this time of year. Collecting bunker for bait is best done in the wee hours of the night. That means a 3am wake up and being on the boat by 3:30 at the very latest-- it's light before 4:30.

An angler abroad: Tom returned to his former home for some saltwater fishing

The most rewarding aspects of this type of fishing, this time of year, is the accessibility of big fish. Experienced or not, a fisherman with the right bait, at the right time, and in the right place can hook big fish.

Steve's first striper-- spoiled for life by a 22-pounder

It's a great way to spend time with friends. It's nice just to be on the water after the long winter, and most other boaters have just started thinking about getting themselves ready for the season.  At 4am you're the only soul stirring on Long Island Sound.

So, here's to game time in the Mudhole. To fishing with friends. To another year on the water.

Bill "Saltshades" assesses the girth of a bass

Allie's first bluefish of the year

Mudhole Expedition: Destination Idaho

A vacation to visit family in Boise happened to fall on Father's Day.  As it happened, my cousin recently celebrated the birth of his first child, and therefore this Father's Day-- his first-- had some special meaning.  Our wonderfully understanding wives encouraged us to go hit a stream and enjoy ourselves for the day.

As luck would have it, I happened bring waders and boots. Coincidence? A borrowed five-weight and a few flies from a Boise shop were all the gear needed for the day. We hopped in the car and drove a bit over an hour to the South Fork of the Boise River.  The river is a nice wadeable tailwater, a canyon cut through the high desert. Above, grass and sage dominant. The river is lined with cottonwoods and bushes. Gentle runs, riffles, and faster rapids are dotted along its length, and each of these sections hold wild rainbow trout.

South Fork from the rim

Cloudy skies and temps in the high sixties were promising. I like clouds because the fish are less shy. We needed the temps to warm enough for the bugs to hatch, though. We were hoping for two big insects to bring the trout to the surface.

The first were cicadas. We could hear them signing in the cottonwood stands as we drove the dirt road along the river bank. Figuring that some of these might be blown into the river by the occasional gust of wind, I tied on a foam cicada pattern the size of a couple peanuts still in their shell. 

Jason opted for the second pattern, the salmon fly. These large stoneflies hatch this time of year, crawling from the river bottom to the shore where they shed their skin and unfold new wings to dry in the sun before taking flight. Nearly the size of my pinky finger, they make a pretty irresistable meal for a hungry trout. 

Salmon flies make a meaty snack for big fish

We fished a gentle riffle section for an hour or so without getting a hit. A father-son duo in a pontoon boat came down and hooked a fish from a deep run on the opposite bank. The son was at the oars, and the dad was throwing big subsurface flies.  Another great Father's Day in progress.

Since the action was slow, we paused for lunch.  Sitting on the bank, we watched a small caddis hatch in porgress on the far bank. We noticed salmon flies pulling themselves up on the rocks at our feet, a positive sign for the afternoon. Maybe the warmer temps would trigger something.  Jason suggested that we move downriver to see if the hatches started earlier there, a somewhat typical pattern.

 

It's a true pleasure to fish with someone who knows their game well. Jason pulled the car in next to a likely patch of water. Rather than splash right in, we fished the water we wanted to wade through. About six casts in, while I was talking and not paying attention, I got my first tug of the day. "They're heeeeeee-ere..."

Not paying attention, I botched the hook set.  However, it was the shot of confidence that we needed.  We started moving upriver, Jason along the near bank and me up a bar toward the middle of the river. 

Jason had the first fish.  It had a fat belly on it, the kind that droops over your hand as you support the weight of the fish. These fish were well fed. The big bugs were making them aggressive.  

We left landing nets in the car, which made landing the fish a little tricky.

Tricky landing

Unfortunately, landing the fish cost him a broken tip section. Thankfully we weren't far from the car and a spare tip, and the fish was worth it.

Got it!

Jason hopped upriver a hundred yards and the two of us started working up. It was great water-- bouldery with lots of pockets, varying depths, and currents that ranged from a crawling pace to a fast run. Likely trout lies seemed to be everywhere. 

Pockets and seams

The pocket water made for short, technical casting. Anything longer made getting a drag free drift for more than a few seconds nearly impossible.  Instead, it was a fun game of stealthfully moving into position and dropping a short cast into the current seam, hole, or gut that you wanted to work.

'Bow in hand

The fish aggressively took the big flies we offered. It was fun to prospect with a dry fly-- not something a salt water guy normally gets to do. By the end of the day, I'd landed, broken off, or missed hooksets on enough fish to have had my fill. The sun came out from behind the clouds. The spectacular nature of the place takes over and the fishing no longer matters.

Happy Father's Day.

Shallow runnings

"So, I noticed the charts here show a lot of water from zero to one foot deep. Exactly how shallow will you run one of these boats?" I asked.

With a laugh and a easy smile, Captain Mark hooted over the wind "Where I'm taking you, that depth finder isn't even going to read!"

Owning a new boat is an emotional experience. Not on par with major life milestones, but certainly one you'll remember. My first kiss, graduating from school, my wedding, my children's birth...  and the first time I ran the boat aground.

Not something you want to remember, and it's especially worse if the memory isn't "that time I put the boat on a rock" but is "that time I put the new boat on a rock."

Captain Mark flashed a mischievous grin. "You might want to let me drive."  I stepped away from the helm, trying to ignore the bottom skimming beneath us or that the depth gauge on the display read simply "--".

When we picked up 2fly and headed to Boca Grande for the week, I had three missions in mind.

1) Have a great time getting to know the new boat
2) Catch some fish
3) Don't put the new boat on a rock

Hiring a guide seemed like a great way to maximize our chances of success for all three goals.  At the suggestion of some of the great people at Yellowfin Yachts, I contacted Captain Mark Liberman. Mark operates a Yellowfin 24 himself, and he's happy to guide off your boat, too. With luck we could learn about fishing an area I've never been while getting some tips on running the boat.

Our first few days we were on our own. We stayed in the channels and diligently watched our depth. We moved slowly in waters shallower than 3-4 feet, and we frequently used the trolling motor to reduce the risk of banging up our shiny stainless steel Mercury prop. 

Now we were skimming south on Pine Island Sound in three feet of water, the Yellowfin 24 loping along at an easy cruise speed, me at the helm and Captain Mark at my side pointing the way. The broad open water of Charlotte Harbor was behind us, and bottom flashed beneath us with patches of sand and turtle grass as we weaved through braided islands and channels at 40 mph.

"You might want to go sit up toward the bow."  The motor tone and pitch increased as Mark trimmed it up more than I would have thought prudent, and the prop launched a fountain aft and upward from the prop.

A Yellowfin 24 draws 14" according to the manufacturer's specifications. With the prop down it's deeper. With Mark at the helm and the speed up, we skimmed along less than a foot above the bottom.  A state of suspended disbelief set in as my brain tried to reconcile this with new-boat-owner anxiety. Stop worrying, smile, enjoy it. It seemed impossible but we never hit, and I know we could have run it shallower.

For someone coming from the Milford Mudhole, where the tidal range is 6-8' and depths change quickly, this was an education. So what did I learn? 

1. Commitment. Once you're shallower than you can draw, you have no choice but to continue until you reach deeper water.  You better know what's around that next bend...
2. Planning. You need to make sure you're going to a place with deeper water so you can stop without settling the stern into the bottom. You also need enough depth to accelerate to a plane again without damaging the turtle grass beds and leaving ugly prop scars.
3. Go on a diet. Fuel is heavy. Water is heavy. Gear is heavy. People are heavy. Leave it at home or plan to stay in deeper water as appropriate.
4. Motor trim. You can trim the engine up more than I was comfortable, to where the prop is partially exposed like a surface drive and the water intake will still be deep enough to cool the motor.  Raising the jack plate will get the motor up, but can also lift the intake too high. Trim also helps get the skeg up a bit higher.  Even trimmed up this far, the boat has plenty of power to stay up on a plane.
5. Weight management. Even on a boat this big you should get the boat running flatter by moving heavy stuff forward. Full coolers and people should move forward of the console. Live wells should be emptied if possible. Don't let the stern squat if you don't have to.
6. Local knowledge. Pine Island Sound typically gets a one-foot tidal range. A strong northerly or easterly can blow all the water out of the sound, and a southerly or westerly will fill it up. Our visit coincided with a full moon, and the astronomical high tides gave us a bit of a safety factor. Another day or a different breeze would mean areas that Mark took us would no longer be passable.

With Mark's lessons fresh in our minds, we ran the boat from Boca Grande to Pine Island for a relaxed lunch at the Tarpon Lodge.  On the way home we headed back across the sandy flats rather than the channel. With the boat hardly touching the waves, I trimmed up and smiled as the depth finder displayed "--".

We slowed the boat as we neared Mark's intended fishing spot.  He sprang to the bow and lowered the trolling motor. As he did, he grinned broadly and said, "I bet you didn't know you'd bought a flats boat!"

And Mark put us on some fish, but that's another story.

2fly's journey home

Months of anticipation finally brought us to the big day-- our delivery date at Yellowfin Yachts arrived.

We chose to pick the boat up in person. Most people get their boat delivered to a local dealer. There are some real advantages to the approach. They make sure everything is running properly and clean all the road grime off the boat so that you can just step aboard and turn the key.  I looked at the cost of delivery and decided that a pick-up in person would cost about the same, with a cool vacation thrown into the bargain.

The plan was good. We would leave the kids with the grandparents. We would drive down from Connecticut to Boca Grande, FL. After enjoying the island and relazing on Sunday, we would drive to the Yellowfin Yachts factory in Bradenton, FL, to pick the boat up and sea trial her on Monday. Then it was back to Boca Grande for four days of boating and fishing. Being mid-April, we knew that we were on the early side for tarpon season, but our hopes were high. If nothing else we would have fun on the boat and explore an area we've never been.

Packing was a large undertaking, this being a boating/fishing/vacationing type of trip. Rods, life jackets, EPIRB and even paddleboards made their way into the Suburban the weekend prior to the trip.  Being so far ahead of ourselves gave us some thinking time, and that always leads to no good.

"You know," I joked to Allison, "we could leave right now.  The boat is ready."

"Really?" she replied. "Ok!"

Now, I didn't quite know what to do here. My off the cuff suggestion certainly wasn't serious.

She continued.  "If we leave tomorrow"-- today being Wednesday-- "we can drive all night and be at Yellowfin by noon on Friday. Then we pick up the boat and have it to play with all weekend instead of wasting Monday picking it up."

She made some good points, but it was a hard sell. There were things to be done, responsibilities to be responsible about.  I did what anyone in my shoes would.

"Uh, ok!" 

So after a brief scramble to make sure all the supporting logistics were in place for an earlier departure, we hit the road 24 hours early and drove through the night.

Years of racing sailboats at regattas around the country have turned us into a well oiled travel machine. We stopped only for fuel and made terrific time.

Somewhere in Maryland, 1,000 miles to go

We pulled into the factory right at noon on Friday, about 20 hours after departure. Kevin, who manages Yellowfin Yachts' small boat business, was waiting for us and invited us in. A few minutes later, 2fly was pulled out from the detailing shop.  We went over the boat and systems in detail with the Yellowfin crew, hitched the boat, and hit the road.

Driving away with the new boat, it kind of felt like stealing. "It's still following us," Allison said several times.

We made the hour-long drive south to Boca Grande without incident. We easily found our accommodations for the night, The Innlet. It's a low key hotel with slips right out your front door.  We splashed the boat for the first time.

The rest of the week was terrific.  We learned how the boat handles.

64 mph

We enjoyed a pretty spectacular place to stay once we moved into our rental house.

Home for the week

We had friends come join us for part of the trip.

Jeff and Tracy try for redfish.

We did some fishing for species I haven't targeted before.

Sea trout

Snook

Had some interesting by-catch.

Blowfish on a Zara spook.

Met some locals.

Shortly before the first bird droppings found their way on the new boat.

Took advantage of some of the fine restaurants in the area that provide dockage like The Tarpon Lodge and Cabbage Key.

Arrival at The Tarpon Lodge

Departing Cabbage Key

Our only disappointment for the week was the wind, which just didn't want to let up. The area was in its 7th cold front in three weeks when we arrived, and the 8th visited before we left. The wind and waves stirred up the waters of the sound and filled the water with sand, driving most of the tarpon into the Gulf of Mexico. We could have jigged or bait fished Boca Grande Pass, but instead we choose to fish the skinny water with light tackle.  More on that another time.

Our trip was far too short, but I suspect we'll be pay another visit in the future. While prying ourselves away from Boca Grande was tough, the real purpose was getting 2fly home. Hitched and loaded, we hit the road and pointed the Suburban northward.

We burned some fuel

After 3,000 miles round trip travel we pulled into home.

Now begins a new chapter in The Mudhole Chronicles.

Powering up

The motor -- a big beast, the Mercury Verado Pro FourStroke-- has been mounted on transom. 

2fly's console comes together.

The build is moving fast now.The console rigging is nearly complete, and it should go on the boat shortly.

Into the console-- port side

At the top of this image you can see the Simrad NSS8 and Mercury VesselView7.

Lower on the left is the battery charging system. The right side is mostly components of the CZone electrical system.

Yellowfin does a beautiful job bringing order to what could be total spaghetti.

In the console-- starboard side view

 Here's the opposite side of the console.  Left side is the NEP-2. All the electronics are networked now to share information between them. This is part of the backbone.

The white and blue box is the JL Audio amp for the stereo. The head unit is the multi-function display.

Above that, the black box is the 'brain' behind the audio, the SonicHub.

Highest in the and installed at an angle is the back of the Standard Horizon radio.

Top of the console

Why compasses seem to have gone out of fashion in some boating circles is a complete mystery to me. Every boat should have a compass.

Left is the VHF antenna. Yellowfin typically installs a short steel antenna inside the console. It's an elegant solution to having a big whip in the air, but the range is terrible. We opted for a removable model, the Digital 222 VW.

On the right is the Sirius/XM weather antenna.

Dashboard view

She has a wheel! It's amazing how a single addition can have so much significance.

All the major pieces of the dash are in. A few controls remain.  Next up the console gets installed on the hull and the systems connected. 

Trim tab installation

Work on the hull continues as well. In this photo the trim tabs get installed.