The Florida Dock

Something from the tackle box:

       Leave your country, your family, and your relatives and go to the land that I will show you.  I will bless you and make your descendants into a great nation.  You will become famous and be a blessing to others.  (Genesis 12:1-2 CEV)

       When my youngest child, and only daughter, graduated from college, she and her boyfriend/future husband, along with their Boston Terrier, decided to move away from the cold environs of Michigan and make a life for themselves in the Sunshine State of Florida.  She did not like snow and ice and cold, and when you’re just starting out you might as well start out in a place that you like.  While her mother and I were not overly enthusiastic about our daughter’s plans to move so far away, to say the least, we did acquiesce gracefully, remembering what it had been like to be young adults striking out on our own once upon a time.

       Andrea, Chad, and Brody the dog, all bumped around doing things in the Tampa Bay area for a while, and then ended up settling down further south when Chad took a job with the Marriott Hotel on Marco Island.  It wasn’t long before my daughter took a job with the rival Hilton Hotel, just a few blocks down the street from where her beau worked.  In fact, they eventually both ended up holding the position of Recreation and Activities Director for their respective resorts.  They were doing just fine. 

the dock from the apartment

       Of course, even with decent jobs, they couldn’t afford to live right on Marco Island.  Even the simplest of housing accommodations on the Island proper are out of the price range that most working stiffs can afford.  So they got a very small and somewhat rundown duplex apartment, over the bridge and a couple of miles up the coastline, in a community called the Isles of Capri.  It was still expensive, but doable on two incomes.  And, small though it was, the place did have some nice features, including a bit of back yard and a dock on one of the Gulf channel that ran right behind their duplex. 

the apartment from the dock

       This was my daughter’s situation in life when, after a couple of years of being apart from her, my wife and I decided to drive down in our well used Subaru, which we planned to leave in our daughter’s possession before flying home.  The financial stresses of starting out in life in such a high cost-of-living neighborhood made the parental gift of even a clunky, old-timers car (which the Subaru was) a much appreciated gesture from the youngster’s point of view.  It was to be a very amicable visit.  And I would get to do some fishing!

the skipper and first mate

       While the kid’s work schedules wouldn’t allow us to spend all of our time together, we did have one day for all of us to take one outing.  In honor of my presence, it was decided that we would rent a pontoon boat and spend the better part of a day cruising and fishing in the extensive channel waters that crisscross the whole coastline around Marco Island.  It was a wonderful way to spend the day, and while the fishing wasn’t gangbusters, I did catch my first Florida fish, a Caravelle Jack. 

my caravelle jack

       I knew the fish I caught was a Caravelle Jack because, having spent the money for a one-week non-resident Florida fishing license, I figured that the few dollars extra for the nice fold-out guide to Fishes of Florida’s Gulf Coast would be money well spent.  While I was only able to look up that one fish on our pontoon boat ride that day, the guide would come in very handy later on.  For the most part, on that first outing, Kathy and I just enjoyed the warm sun, the beautiful water, and the good company of the kids on the boat.  It was a day to be remembered. 

a happy smile

       My real Florida fishing adventure would come the next day, on my own, fishing right off the daughter’s dock.  Chad had to work the next day, and Andrea and her mom decided to take off with Brody in tow and do some “girl” stuff.  That left me alone for the day with a fishing rod, a bucked of live shrimp, and my own private dock to fish the channel waters from without leaving my daughter’s back yard.  I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the time. 

       Once I had all of my tackle rigged up, I set up my lawn chair on the dock and got down to it.  Chad had told me that I would be able to catch a number of species of fish right off the dock, and probably wouldn’t have much trouble doing it, some would even be pretty good to eat, if I wanted to clean them.  As we had plans to all go out to dinner together that night, I told him I would just be doing catch-and-release fishing that day, but I had my guide and would make a report on the number and species of the fish I managed to land.  I honestly didn’t think it would be as fast paced as it turned out to be.

a look to the left

       Once set up on the end of the dock, the first aquatic wildlife spotted was a giant manatee lazily swimming past on her way up the channel.  She was so close that I could have reached out and touched her with my rod tip, by way of saying hello, had I wanted to.  I just took it as a very good omen, and let her pass undisturbed by my advances. 

       The fishing was easy that day.  You just put a live shrimp on a hook, cast it out as far as you can, let is sink for a few seconds, then slowly reel it back in.  If something is there with a mind to eat your shrimp, you will get a bite, and I got a lot of bites, one after another.  In fact, it seemed more likely to pull in a fish than to recast the same shrimp for a second time.  I lost count of the number of fish I caught, and the only reason I didn’t catch more is because I had run through the whole bucket of shrimp that I was using for bait and had to quit.

a look to the right

       While I lost count of the number of fish that I unhooked and tossed back into the channel that day, I did make note of all the different species I landed.  I caught Grey Snapper and Lane Snapper.  I brought in more Carevelle Jacks, like the one I’d caught the day before.  I landed a Red Drum and some Sand Sea Trout.  I caught some Pinfish, Pigfish, and a Sheepshead.  I landed a Common Snook.  I caught several small Barracuda (be careful getting the hook out of their mouth).  I even had several crabs grab my bait and let themselves be hauled to within a foot of the surface before letting go to sink back to the channel floor.  But the fish that was, by far, the most fun to catch, is a skinny little silver thing called the Ladyfish. 

the little ladyfish

       I learned that nobody eats Ladyfish (there’s not that much meat on them to start with and what’s there really isn’t all that tasty) but, for above the surface acrobatics, I’ve never had a Michigan bass or trout put on a show anywhere near as exciting.  These little fish, that only average about a foot long, will rocket themselves a good six feet into the air when fighting a tight line.  On a sunny day, it looks like you’ve hooked into a launched bottle rocket with a polished mirror surface.  It is just spectacular.  Good eating or not, I could spend all day catching Ladyfish on light tackle, and I’d be happy in the doing of it. 

       Well, that was my one and only Florida fishing adventure.  We went out to dinner that night and ate shrimp with the youngsters!  The irony of spending ten times what my whole bucket of bait had cost, for just our four plates of shrimp, did not go unnoticed.  But it was very good.  The next day, Andrea drove mom and I to the airport in the car that we were leaving behind for her to use, and we flew on home.  My fishing would again be done on the lakes and cold-water streams of my beloved Michigan.  And while I still think that pan-fried bluegills are every bit as good as any Florida fish I’ve eaten, and that catching a Michigan brown, rainbow, or brookie on a #3 weight fly-line is as worthy a pursuit as an angler can undertake, I wouldn’t mind trying to catch some more of those Ladyfish, on that same #3 weight fly-line, if I got the chance to do it – someday. 

Something to take home in your creel:

       The way things work out can be funny.  The Promised Land was good, and a good place to be for Chad and Andi, while they were called to be there. But callings can change.  A couple of years after the adventure I’ve just described, Chad felt that he needed to return to Michigan and enter the Michigan State Police Academy.  It was a calling.  My daughter, who loves Florida, loves Chad more, and so she came back to be with him upon his graduation from the Academy as a trooper. 

       My son-in-law is now a Michigan State Police trooper working in the Metro Area division.  It’s dangerous work, and we all worry about him, but it is what he was meant to do, and he’s good at it, so we try not to worry too much – most of the time.

       My daughter and her State Trooper now own a nice home in Waterford Township, just a two-hour drive for Kathy and I to go and visit them now.  Go figure.  Brody is still with them, although getting a little long in the tooth, and they’ve gotten a younger Boston terrier, named Mulder, to keep him company.  They are all very happy together, and so are Kathy and I.  And now they come to fish with me on my dock.