Post by flip on Jun 3, 2010 22:19:04 GMT -5
This takes me way back to the early 90's. I had just traded my 17 ft canoe to a friend for his 14ft jon boat with a 1972 model 25 hp johnson. I had rigged it up with a raised deck in the front with a bow mount trolling motor. With me just starting a lawn service, I would take a few hours early in the morning to get some fishing in. I had a regular route I fished. Always in the same order. A creek close to Ponce Inlet, then I would run 5 miles north and fish 3 creeks, working my way south back to the boat ramp.
It was about 6:15 am, the tide was about 3/4 the way to full high tide. No wind, the water was like a sheet of glass. I come out of the creek that the ramp was on. that old 25hp was pushing every horse it had in it. I come out of the creek into the main channel. I make the turn north to circle the island to get to my first spot., I make the turn aroung the island, cutting across a sandbar. The water is about 20 inches deep. I get almost to the creek and I get a feeling I should run to Mills creek first. Mills creek is alswas the 3rd creek I fished every morning. I figure "what the Hell". I turn north as sharp as I could possibly turn the old boat.
It was,maybe a 15 minute run to Mills Creek. I scoot across the 30 yard wide sand bar into the creek and kill the engine. I drop the trolling motor and start throwing a rattling Zara Spook with a red head and white body. I get about 50 yards into the creek and I see a large fish terrorizing the mullet on a big oyster bar. I throw in that direction. Afer 5 or 6 jerks of the rod,WHAM, I get a massive strike that sends my lure 4 feet into the air. The line gets foulded in the trebble hooks so I reel in as fast as I can.
By this time the current has carried me away from the fish, so I turn the rig with my American Express, That is what I called my trolling motor. The tide was ripping so hard, I was barely making any headway back to the fish. I get back into a position where I can cast again. Twitch, twitch and WHAM, I get struck again. The fish missed the lure, so I keep working it back towards the boat. I get 10 strikes on the cast and never put a hook into this fish. I end up dropping my anchor and continue casting to this big fish. I still haven't seen what it was.
I go through this same action for a good half an hour. Geting 6-10 strikes per cast and not putting te hook ito the fish. Aroun 7:30 I finally stick a hook into the fish and the fight was on. As I get the fish into the net, I realize it is a monster seatrout. The fish was 32 inches long and 12 pounds. The back was a deep dark crimson dotted with spots like a brookie. This fish stretched all the way across the bottom of my rig. Nose touching one wall and tail just short of the other.
I really wanted to fish some more, but i had no livewell or cooler, but I also wanted to show my fish off. I end up running back to the ramp to trailer my rig. I admit I can be a little on the lazy side sometimes. Most people with a rig like mine would float the boat on the trailer. Well, I always backed my trailer in and drove on the trailer like a real boat. The problem this day was I was so excited over my catch, I did not get my trailer all the way in the water. The roller on the back of the trailer was above the water. I drive on and secure the rig. and drive back to town to show my buddies my fish. I finally make it to the bait shop where I did my business and got her weighed and I left it for the taxidermist.
Later that afternoon I was telling another friend about the trip and he wanted to go out that night and try for another monster. We launch at the same ramp and start fishing. It was not too long until the tackle boxes start floating. With me being me, I did not get too excited or curious about this. I fire up the engine and pull the plug and I drain the boat. We started fishing again. I do this about 5 times.
Now, one thing about this engine is, She was very tempermental. Sometimes it would start with half a pull and sometimes it was like an act of congress to get her to start. Finally, I had pushed my luck too far. This old engine did not want to start. By this time water was ankle deep and the flounder we had in the floor started swimming around. U had y buddy "Tiger" working the trolling motor while I try to start the engine. I break the pull cork and I take off the cover and use my belt to turn the flywheel. I am pulling and pulling, getting a little more concerned as the minutes tick by.
I have Tiger turn the rig towards the ramp as I continue struggling with this motor. We are at the mouth of Spruce Creek and the main channel,and about half an hour till dark. I happen to look towards the main channel and I see a 50 foot cabin cruiser heading full throttle south. I see this giant wake slowly approach us. I yell to Tiger to turn us into the wake, hoping to ride over the swell. The water inside the boat was almost the same level as the river. I had maybe 2 inches of freeboard.
I have always been on the skinny side. Tiger, on the other hand was close to 2oo pounds. As the wake came to us, we end up punching through the waeke instead of riding over it. Water rushes over the bow. Tiger jumps to the back of the boat and water rushes over the transome. We end up standing on the side of the boat and Flip it in order to hopefully create an air pocket, so it would not sink.
Long story short, we finally swim to the ramp pulling my capsized boat behind us. When I tell the story to my friends, they accuse me of being crazy in the operation of it. Which I had been known to do before. Everybody started calling me Flipper. It got shortened to Flip over time.
Tiger never would fish with me again. I just dont know why
It was about 6:15 am, the tide was about 3/4 the way to full high tide. No wind, the water was like a sheet of glass. I come out of the creek that the ramp was on. that old 25hp was pushing every horse it had in it. I come out of the creek into the main channel. I make the turn north to circle the island to get to my first spot., I make the turn aroung the island, cutting across a sandbar. The water is about 20 inches deep. I get almost to the creek and I get a feeling I should run to Mills creek first. Mills creek is alswas the 3rd creek I fished every morning. I figure "what the Hell". I turn north as sharp as I could possibly turn the old boat.
It was,maybe a 15 minute run to Mills Creek. I scoot across the 30 yard wide sand bar into the creek and kill the engine. I drop the trolling motor and start throwing a rattling Zara Spook with a red head and white body. I get about 50 yards into the creek and I see a large fish terrorizing the mullet on a big oyster bar. I throw in that direction. Afer 5 or 6 jerks of the rod,WHAM, I get a massive strike that sends my lure 4 feet into the air. The line gets foulded in the trebble hooks so I reel in as fast as I can.
By this time the current has carried me away from the fish, so I turn the rig with my American Express, That is what I called my trolling motor. The tide was ripping so hard, I was barely making any headway back to the fish. I get back into a position where I can cast again. Twitch, twitch and WHAM, I get struck again. The fish missed the lure, so I keep working it back towards the boat. I get 10 strikes on the cast and never put a hook into this fish. I end up dropping my anchor and continue casting to this big fish. I still haven't seen what it was.
I go through this same action for a good half an hour. Geting 6-10 strikes per cast and not putting te hook ito the fish. Aroun 7:30 I finally stick a hook into the fish and the fight was on. As I get the fish into the net, I realize it is a monster seatrout. The fish was 32 inches long and 12 pounds. The back was a deep dark crimson dotted with spots like a brookie. This fish stretched all the way across the bottom of my rig. Nose touching one wall and tail just short of the other.
I really wanted to fish some more, but i had no livewell or cooler, but I also wanted to show my fish off. I end up running back to the ramp to trailer my rig. I admit I can be a little on the lazy side sometimes. Most people with a rig like mine would float the boat on the trailer. Well, I always backed my trailer in and drove on the trailer like a real boat. The problem this day was I was so excited over my catch, I did not get my trailer all the way in the water. The roller on the back of the trailer was above the water. I drive on and secure the rig. and drive back to town to show my buddies my fish. I finally make it to the bait shop where I did my business and got her weighed and I left it for the taxidermist.
Later that afternoon I was telling another friend about the trip and he wanted to go out that night and try for another monster. We launch at the same ramp and start fishing. It was not too long until the tackle boxes start floating. With me being me, I did not get too excited or curious about this. I fire up the engine and pull the plug and I drain the boat. We started fishing again. I do this about 5 times.
Now, one thing about this engine is, She was very tempermental. Sometimes it would start with half a pull and sometimes it was like an act of congress to get her to start. Finally, I had pushed my luck too far. This old engine did not want to start. By this time water was ankle deep and the flounder we had in the floor started swimming around. U had y buddy "Tiger" working the trolling motor while I try to start the engine. I break the pull cork and I take off the cover and use my belt to turn the flywheel. I am pulling and pulling, getting a little more concerned as the minutes tick by.
I have Tiger turn the rig towards the ramp as I continue struggling with this motor. We are at the mouth of Spruce Creek and the main channel,and about half an hour till dark. I happen to look towards the main channel and I see a 50 foot cabin cruiser heading full throttle south. I see this giant wake slowly approach us. I yell to Tiger to turn us into the wake, hoping to ride over the swell. The water inside the boat was almost the same level as the river. I had maybe 2 inches of freeboard.
I have always been on the skinny side. Tiger, on the other hand was close to 2oo pounds. As the wake came to us, we end up punching through the waeke instead of riding over it. Water rushes over the bow. Tiger jumps to the back of the boat and water rushes over the transome. We end up standing on the side of the boat and Flip it in order to hopefully create an air pocket, so it would not sink.
Long story short, we finally swim to the ramp pulling my capsized boat behind us. When I tell the story to my friends, they accuse me of being crazy in the operation of it. Which I had been known to do before. Everybody started calling me Flipper. It got shortened to Flip over time.
Tiger never would fish with me again. I just dont know why
