Captain Skipper Gentry and I motored through the Boynton Inlet with the morning light filling our faces, the sun as bright as our smiles. I had set my sights for snook along the beaches of southeastern Florida. Most of my mornings in Florida I find myself walking the beach with a quiver of fly rods sticking out of my backpack, armed for whatever I encounter. One rod in my hand, usually an 8wt, with a 6wt and a 10wt strapped to the sides of my pack. The looks I get from passersby go unnoticed. But today I will forgo my early morning walk in the sand. Instead we’ll spend the morning motoring parallel to the beach, sight fishing for summertime snook. But who knows where we will end up?
The bright blue Echo 10wt Bad Ass Glass glowed in the morning sun like the cheap PBR neon hanging above the Islander Grille and Bar back at the Palm Beach Shores Resort. My gold reel bounced sunlight under my sunglasses as I scanned the beach breakers for the tell-tale shadow of a cruising snook. The beach immediately south of the inlet is public and would soon fill with beach goers. Kayaks and Stand Up Paddleboards increase their presence along this stretch early in the morning so we chose to fish this water before the beach got busy. Sets of wave breaking rocks have been placed every 100 yards or so along the Boynton Beach shoreline giving structure to an otherwise nondescript beach. The rocks hold a variety of baitfish and the sandy stretches in between are often full of jacks, blue runners and snook crushing schools of bait against the beach, but not today.
The stretch of beach that is usually full of life seemed empty. We trolled down current using the sun behind us to shine through the water illuminating the shoreline, nothing. Areas where bait is often pushed against the shore from waves, wind and tide didn’t have a minnow. We retreated back to Boynton Inlet to regroup.
Once again we set to trolling the beachfront only this time heading North against the prevailing ocean currents. The sun climbing ever higher in the sky was causing more surface glare than earlier in the morning. I was experiencing difficult sight fishing conditions. What was more upsetting it just seemed like the snook had forgotten to show. Dejected, we turned off the trolling motor to contemplate our next move.
My eyes strayed towards the eastern horizon, overlooking a calm ocean. The normally rough Atlantic had lain quiet as we approached high tide. The small rollers that were prevalent all morning were gone.
Inquisitively I asked “Do you ever take your little boat offshore?”
He kind of smirked and without comment he fired up the engines while turning the bow towards the Bahamas. We had not traveled more than a few minutes when Captain Gentry spoke up “Yep, we’ve got a slick.”
I stared out into the nondescript water, “Huh?” Some minutes later “Oh, I see it now.”
Sure enough as we continued the ocean fell flat, devoid of any surface nervousness, a sure sign of a current change or temperature difference. We closed the distance and a well-defined weed line occupied the far edge of the slick. Deep blue morphed into a bright blue color that reminded me of the eyes of a girl I knew when I was in high school. My sunglasses cut through the midday sun and revealed life under the floating mass of seaweed. Flotsam gathered thick in spots casting a pillar of shadow into the blue sea. Pockets in weed line, which seemed to extend to the Carolinas, allowed shafts of piercing light under the serpentine weeds and in that light we could see jacks of a few varieties.
The jacks proved to be comical and swarmed our flies. We quickly chalked up a pile of them on clousers and deceivers. Feeling redeemed we lowered the motor back into the salt. Cruising the edge of the weeds we encountered a Tripletail under some debris. The shot was small but if I could get the fly into the right spot I would have my first Tripletail. Buck fever got the best of me and I didn’t make the shot we needed but I will get one next trip, damn it!
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of blue and gold. In the broken light seeping through the shadowed blue water another flash went past the boat. Captain Gentry had noticed the action and was already reaching for his fly rod. We have a routine, when we both have the opportunity to cast, where Captain Gentry, the southpaw, occupies the starboard side and I can cast on the port side, right handed, as we face the rear.
Set up with both of us casting heavily weighted flies in an effort to sink below marauding schools of jacks we routinely caught doubles on the Dolphins that were running deeper in the current seam. The first school was on the smaller size but eager to eat our flies. We boated enough quickly to put a good slime on our pants and smiles on our faces.
Dolphin are one of the most abundant game fish in the ocean. Rapid growth and high numbers make them a great fish to target on the fly. Known around the globe by a variety of names often depending on which ocean you are standing in, Dolphin, Mahi Mahi, or Dorado are a truly world-class game fish.
After some satisfying saltwater action we resumed our course heading north. I had barely finished my Gatorade when Skipper spotted some birds working along the edge of the weed line. We slowed into position and Skipper immediately noticed a larger class of fish working the area. Knowing the hassle the jacks proved to be earlier I quickly looped on a sink tip in an effort to get down deep before the hoard attacked. The extra effort paid off with a larger class Mahi Mahi taking the fly. One big fish led to another.
We started out with intentions of beach bound snook on the fly. Conditions forced us to adapt to what the ocean was offering us. With a minimal amount of adjustment Captain Gentry and I were able to chase Mahi Mahi using an Echo 10wt fiberglass fly rod, within eyesight of the south Florida beachfront and on smooth as glass ocean conditions. The luck of finding the slick and weed line so close to shore was unexpected but proved to be a blessing. Flexibility made the day a success. Even though the conditions did not provide for productive snook fishing we still managed a truly memorable adventure along the Florida coast catching world-class fish with the Echo Bad Ass Glass.
~ Michael Salomone is an Echo & Airflo Ambassador, Vail Valley Anglers Guide & Content Writer. You can contact him through his website: www.MichaelSalomone.com or by calling Vail Valley Anglers at 970-926-0900.
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