I’m back. I’m back in California from my week in the Keys where the fishing was hard and the friendships easy.
I’ll get to posting later this week, but I wanted to give a little color to events of the past seven days.
In short, we got our collective asses handed to us by Mr. & Mrs. Tarpon. Seems like the big fish had mostly stopped running the ocean side flats by the time we got there, although there were a few big herds seen and cast to (although not by me).
The number of tarpon seen in a day, sometimes counted in the hundreds, on this trip were often counted in single digits. There were not water jugs poured over any heads in celebration on this trip, but it had its moments, although mostly of the friendship type and not the fishing type.
I’ll get some stories up over the next few days.
Matt and Ty
Davin on the lookout.
Me, Bill Horn and Dan Dow, running.
A bit of weather to round things out.
- If you liked the story above, check out these stories below
- Whenever you can! (0.859)
- Milestone on the Flats (0.859)
- The right attitude (0.859)
Tags: Florida Keys, Tarpon, weather
Glad you had a good time. It seems that though the fishing was hard you had decent weather this time and got to hang out with Windknot and your buds! It seems that sometimes the sea doesn’t give up its treasures easily. Looking forward to stories and pix…
I fished with guide Randy Small and long time fishing pal Allen in the Keys the first week of June 2015. Many follows no eaters. The tarpon we saw were not acting normal and were not following their usual paths.I lost track of the number of fly patterns we tried. The Don Hawley tournament people were also having a hard time. The weather was not the best BUT the freaking boats running the tarpon lanes were the worst we’ve ever experienced on the ocean side. What does NO MOTOR ZONE mean? Why is the man standing on the bow and not casting? Lets run over there to see. . Next year I’m bar hopping on Fridays, Saturdays and esp. Sunday. Miami put restrictions on PWC’s up there and so they drive south to tear up the water.
By my recollection, there were barely any tarpon to hand anyone anything… much less assess. Got my proverbial handed to me by a bout with some type of upper-respiratory evil. Probably consumption or black lung. One of the romantic diseases. Still saw fish but they may have been hallucinations brought on by a fever in the 102 range amplified by a boiling humidity and Florida sun. Straight up left all my tarpon flies in Florida. Sick of looking at them… until next year.