Tales and Truths of Homosassa

When I began working first-full time job, I also began guiding a group of Tennessee fishermen who belonged to a fishing club here in Homosassa.  The title of this little story below, should be "I hate Painting".

It was the summer of '73 and I just graduated from high school.  Not even a week later, I was asked by my neighbor, Jake, if I wanted help paint Power Plant III, the Nuke!   Paint?  I hate painting.  He must have been eye balling me all along saying, just wait boy and I'll make a man out of you.  But you will get paid well for it.  $5.64 and hour.   Minimum wage was 1.75.  That pretty much wrapped it up.  I could stay plastered all weekend and still have money left to last the week.

Before, I was not sure about my future.  Maybe joining the Navy as my Dad did.  After all, I could easily become a quartermaster and drive a PT boat or something small.  Free rent, boat, gas, clothes and food.  I loved being on the water.

Dad was in WW II as a 50 cal. gunner's mate.  They saw a lot of action in the Pacific theater.  Fighter planes on suicide missions.  If the big guns missed, he and his buddies were the last resort to blow them out of the sky before crashing into the aircraft carrier. 

It was decades later that I learned those experiences had haunted him. He could still function, but the bad thoughts would come back at times. And when he met up with a friend who was there, a few tears would roll down their face.

One thing for sure is, I was damn sure the Army was not for me.  I could have been drafted for the Army until 1975, at least for registration.  The draft process began in 1940 and ended in 1973.  I had a choice so I heard, that I could join any other Service besides the Army when drafted. If I did not choose one, they would choose for you; you're going into the Army, boy.

My first day was not an eye opener.  It was because Jake wanted me standing in front of my house at 5am. to pick me up.  I thought, didn't you say we started at 7:30?  Well, Jake liked to make double sure he was on time.  He would sit there inside these gang shacks with these hard on the rump wooden benches.

I had seen the first two plants hundreds of times from the gulf as they were landmarks by which to dead reckon off of.  But seeing them in the dark up close with all the light and tall smoke stacks, I thought this might be all right.

Jake was the number 2 boss in our trade.  Painting.  I never painted before and I already knew, I would hate it.  Great attitude to take, I know. Jake had power or seniority and could sit down on the job and bird dog you while he smoked his cigarettes.

I was a natural at tearing shit up.  So Jake put me on this heavy duty bullet-proof sand blaster.  It had so much power, I could just lean my body forward against the hose and it would hold me up.  I had to wear an enclosed helmet and chest protection. Fresh air was pumped in.  The little plastic eye shield was replaceable in case you sprayed yourself with the sand.  Man, this thing would burn your hide off you.  I mean this sandblaster would flake off rust from metal  I- beams at a pretty good rate.  The good thing was, I did not have to paint them.  How did Jake know, I hated painting.

There was this one guy who liked to play around with sand blasters. There were smaller ones that were shaped liked pistols. They were for smaller parts.  I working away and I instantly knew he opened fire on me. Of course, I returned fire with the sand piercing our face and shirts.  It stung.  Both of us thought it was funny.  Beat's working.

Meanwhile, the weekend job with the Coquina Island Club on the Homosassa River,  turned out to be a fantastic fun thing to do.  I spent many days with the MacRae brothers hunting and fishing.  

MacRae's Bait House

I’d like to tell you a couple of stories about the adventures of the Homosassa River I had and a couple of men who had similar adventures of the 70’s discussed recently at the FCO store in Dade City.  When you have been a fisherman all your life and lived in one spot most of it, I learned that 50 miles away is not too far for folks to also know the people I knew of Old Homosassa.  This was one of those days at Flint Creek Outfitters for going back in time.

One such couple came into the store and the mere mention of Homosassa was the beginning of an one hour conversation.  Steve Honson owned a cabin directly on the river with a dock attached to it that was located below Hells Gate. He and his wife would come up from Tampa every weekend.  Maybe 75 cabins dotted the river banks that were only accessible by boat.  His was one of the last cabin’s down the river on the north bank 3 miles or so.  Marsh surrounded it with an area of hard ground with cedar and palm trees.  His view from the porch was surreal.    

Steve started the storytelling and said he could make a cast off his dock and catch a trout.  The second cast a largemouth bass.  Why bass in brackish water?  The springs in the headwaters pumped around 6 million gallons of water per hour, so the salinity was very low.    For the entire scope of the river, the spring water made for a lush environment with a combination of marsh flags, native grass beds, sandy and rocky bottoms for fresh and saltwater fish to happily exist. Over 40 species of fish have been identified in the headwaters of the Category 1 Spring of 55 feet deep.   The bream and bass made hundreds of spawning beds along the edges of the river banks.  Bream were thick, a hundred in a school in places such as by the Yardarm.

The bass would drop down the river for saltier water to rid the embedded worms from the roof of their mouth, there would be a cluster, perhaps 6 or 8 of them. That’s why the bass were found everywhere up and down the river and because the worms could not survive the salt water.  Also, bream, namely bluegill larger than your hand were very abundant.

In the winter it was not unusual to catch redfish or trout plus bass in the same hole from the headwaters to Hells Gate, all the way down to the mouth at Shell Island.  People would come every year from Georgia to spend a month in one of the older duplexes or cabins at MacRae’s.  And many fishermen in their boats would be anchored out on both sides of the river at Hells Gate for trout.  Redfish holes were made of rocky bottom.  One would lose a dozen hooks and blame Duncan MacRae for throwing debris or bed springs so he could sell more hooks.  Of course this was not true.

There were thousands of largemouth bass up and down the river.  Not just along the shoreline, but out in the middle of St. Catherine's Bay by Harmen’s Cottages up the river from MacRae’s.  More than once, Dad would take me up there.  It was easy peasy.  A Hildebrandt Snagless Sally with a Uncle Josh’ pork rind was the choice bait.  This lure has a No.4 gold spinner for vibration and the green and black spotted pork rind gave the back end action.  It looked like a frog chasing a minnow.  And it is still available today.  Anyways, we would catch anywhere from 30 to 60 bass each trip in the 1-3 pound range.  And once in awhile a 6-7 pounder.  It was hot action and the  pre-arrival of a cold front would turn them on.  

My Dad gradually instilled my love of the river by taking me fishing many times.    While Duncan was a Father figure, Dad was the best and always there for me.  Early one morning, Dad called me out of bed.  I did not want to get up.  It was cold in the house but I felt warm under the blankets.  Redfish were one of my Dad’s favorites.   It was freezing outside and that was the signal that reds would be in the holes.  He wanted to be the first one at the hole  “Let’s go redfishing - get up!” he quipped.  With live shrimp we landed 123 redfish. They were cob size, 2-4 pounds.  Cold weather made the gulf water temps drop and in came the reds and trout by the droves to the river.  The springs stayed a constant 72 degrees and the fish knew when it was time to swim up the river.  They were eluding the 50ish degree gulf waters.  

Another great day with Dad was in the summer on a sultry morning.  Sultry mornings are when the tarpon are here.  The whippoorwill’s call is another good sign tarpon are near. This time getting up at 4:30 was great.  I hardly slept that night because of excitement.

He stopped the engine near a hundred tarpon in the first school.  He commanded, “you boys grab an oar and start paddling hard, we got to get in front of that school.” No one could paddle harder than my Dad.  The two of us had a hard time keeping the boat straight against Dad’s strokes.  It was sheer terror with eyes bulging.

Katy barred the door when all three of us hooked up at the same time, lines crossing with 3 big tarpon jumping at once.   I landed a 184-pound tarpon.  3 more tarpon were kept, all monster fish.  Plus a 63-pound Cobia.  My best friend, Buzz MacRae fought and caught a couple of those huge tarpon as well.  Buzz and I hunted and fished a lot of days together.  But Dad made it happen and so special.  He was one of the pioneers of the tarpon fishery off the coast starting back in the late 50’s.  He made it popular here.

My new friend, Steve said he made friends with Duncan MacRae.  Oh my God!  Now we are talking.  Mr. MacRae was my hero and I ran with his sons and daughter over the years.  The first story Steve said was about the time Duncan saw a 12-foot Hammerhead swim by the bait house.  I did not hear that one until now.  I don’t doubt it, it just makes me laugh.  Steve mentioned about Duncan’s youngest son Gator, maybe 10 years old then, running around in a small boat with a 10 H.P. kicker on it. Gator had his own little shelter up the river him and Robert Head would go play in.  Steve knew all three sons.  My how the memories of the MacRae family arise.

Steve left FCO and in a few minutes in walks a fellow who mentioned he worked for General Telephone.  After a few minutes of listening to him, I could not help but to tell him I use to fish the COO, 2nd in rank of GTE.  Rocky Johnson stepped in my boat for the first time after losing to us by one fish the day before.

Rocky was a man who was very competitive.  He liked mainly to trout fish.    It was nothing for us to catch 50 trout before noon.  We used Love Lures, a tandem rig made popular out in Louisiana.  And Rocky loved his cigars.  Don Tomas.  One day he left his cigar box in the room.  He asked me if I had any.  Would you believe I had a couple of stogies. I gave him one and he savored it all day long.  About a week after that trip, a package arrived with a box of those Don Tomas cigars.  At the time I was not a big cigar smoker.  But I did have the stogies onboard for him if he needed one.

Also, there was a huge GTE corporate office in Tampa. A dozen or so old officers would amble up and scrunch onto to the guide boats that were booked far in advance.  They had a lot of fun enjoying everything about the river. The flora, fauna and the ripples the wind made on the water.  This one tall fellow was good with the guitar and he made up a song about fishing the Homosassa, the Crow’s Nest and the shore dinners with hushpuppies.  He performed at the Crow’s Nest and it was filmed.  

While I was telling my story, I finally mentioned Rocky’s name and the old guy said he knew who he was.  Said he became #1 man and CEO.  I am thinking, Wow!  I can’t believe this. He knew my old friend. So, to the old man,

I said before you go, I got one more for you.  I said, I get a call and it was GTE.  The man said we are going to roast Rocky in Palm Springs.  Would I be interested in joking about Rocky.  They left it to me. So as a film crew were on their way, I went out and caught a nice 25-inch redfish.  I put it in my livewell.

The camera was set up on the dock of MacRae’s where my boat was tied off.  Hold on until I am ready please.  I’ll tell you when to roll. I lit a replica sized of Rocky’s cigar, then,  I hooked the redfish to my rod and tossed him overboard letting a fair amount of line out.  I said ok roll it.

Rocky Johnson passed in 1994.  The native Texan considered working with his GTE family his greatest honor. He loved the competition of golf, hunting and fishing, and he loved his ranch and hunting dogs.

Just a couple of adventures from the river.  And some repeated.  Hope to write many more.

Capt. Mike Locklear

Fishing and Lying

It does not matter where, but fishing lies are being told this second. In Homosassa, the biggest liar in the world would tell me he caught a 32-pound Largemouth bass with a straight face. He was amusing because he believed himself that he also caught a 400-pound tarpon and so on. That's extreme but true.

The problem with some anglers, is telling just one friend or more where they caught the fish.  As selfish as it may seem, if you want the hole to yourself, keep quiet.  They figure, I’ll just tell my best friend and swear him to secrecy.  And that buddy will do the same and so on.  My Dad told me long ago to keep quiet.  Even with me, there is a flip side and if you know me, you will know that I have shared my knowledge for those who want to know. Not so much with tarpon or grouper rocks.  Just the pelagics and spotted seatrout etc. Sharing is a good thing. But I am still selfish at times.

There is a lot I can say about where I caught the fish without giving away the location.  I have said this about "the where question", when asked; in the mouth, in the water, on the bottom, on the surface etc. Fishing guides Intel is shared on the Homosassa flats, were sometimes simply north or south.  That could mean the opposite direction because we knew they were constantly lying.  Why?, because their lips were moving!

There is so much more to say about white lies. You will have to wait for the book to come out. I hope this does not turn out to be a lie.

The Pinnacles of Tarpon on the Fly

This is either a passion or totally crazy; maybe both.  My alarm went off at 3 a.m.  By 3:30 I was on the road to meet Carey Theriot, fly fishing manager of Flint Creek Outfitters of Ocala.  After hooking up to Walt’s skiff, I arrived at RaceTrac in Homosassa Springs to meet Cary.  He followed me to the boat ramp and by 6:00 A.M. we were underway.

As we plied west to our destination, a light chop was chattering under our feet signified a great day to come.  It was light out now and at pre-sunrise the white deck of the skiff turned a flamingo pink.  Only certain days does the light and sky match just right for this to happen.  First time I saw it,  I could not believe my eyes.  It was so surreal.

Tarpon with a fly rod was the plan today.  The season is nearly over as many fish have left and migrated on.  Some go into the rivers.  Some spend the entire year in the rivers.  Who knows.  It has been proven that tarpon head offshore 100 miles to spawn.  

For this morning, we will settle for whatever fish came by as it did not much matter to Cary and I.  We were both were mesmerized by the sunrise for a few minutes.  Cameras’ out and shutter sounding.  Another masterpiece by the Master with orange, red, yellow and clouds reflecting those colors. What a sight to make you appreciate living another day.  There is something special about breathing in salt air and unique to say the least, reading the water surface for tarpon.

Well, Cary and I are talking away as we ready our lines for the silver king.  We  had several pods come to us.  We casted the fly into the school on mark feeling nothing. You can’t see your fly early in the morning but the rollers are exciting.  This is the one of the pinnacles to angling for tarpon.  

Other pinnacles is seeing the tarpon’s black back in contrast to a white sandy bottom and begin tracking the fly, sometimes giving the angler plenty of time for surreal excitement before watching its huge black gallon bucket size mouth open eating the fly.  They are usually lazily slow but in some cases moving fast.  With fly line in hand and feeling the bite and then pulling it hard is so awesome.  Like a greyhound bus.  The rod has nothing to do with setting the hook as many beginners will try to strike it with the rod like a trout fisherman, pulling the fly out of its mouth.

Still in pinnacle lands, the jumps a tarpon and height of the leaps,  twisting, somersaulting, gill rattling and white water cascading is the highest peak for me.  It’s like the Tetons, the full view of those peaks that make up the beauty and excitement.  Homosassa’s tarpon are from 4-7 feet long. That’s 30 to over 200 pounds.

I had to have Cary back in by 9am to the ramp.  It was a good morning.  We exchanged pleasantries and I headed back out alone.  By now the sun was up high enough to have some visibility to see the poons under the water’s surface cruising.. The plan is to put the fly in front of the mouth and not the tail:-)

Well, a buddy said, Mike here’s comes a school of 50.  I laughed and thought, I only want one.  They passed out of ranged and the glare was bad, so I only saw a few rollers.  So heck, I pulled the anchor and decided to use the iPilot trolling motor.  On low speed, here’s comes a string of 3.  I shut the motor off and they were going to pass in range, about 40 feet.  I missed the sweet spot and off they went.  A couple of hours went by without an eyeball, so I just soaked up the beauty of the flat.  I had it all to myself.  I was about to call it after 5 minutes.  But, here’s come an unmistakable push of tarpon swimming very fast.  I hit the remote to “Rabbit”(full speed) and turned 180 degrees for 20 yards, shut it down and made my cast.  It was those same three fish, to myself.  Would you believe my fly snagged a blade of turtle grass,  End of story, that’s tarpon fishing on the fly.

1st Tarpon On the Fly

Learn to catch your 1st Tarpon On the Fly 

I've made thousands of casts to tarpon with fly rods in 10-11-12 weights before becoming the fly guy at Flint Creek Outfitters in Dade City recently. When I picked up the fly rod for the first time 25 years ago, my fly line and rod simulated like a buggy whip. My dopey buddies were just as bad and we were busting out laughing at each other because we did not have a clue how to do it, much less the right way. 

Then as fate would have it, Freddy "Fearless" Archibald came into my life. He gently harassed and introduced me to fly fishing. The quarry was giant Homosassa tarpon. He promised it would help my guide business monetarily. Mainly though, becoming a fly fishing guide would become a passion. Reluctantly, I decided to give it a try. He gave me a fiberglass 12-weight rod/reel built by Shakespeare and named a wonder rod. I began practicing my cast every chance I got.

When the season arrived in May, Freddy invited me to go fishing with him. I had guided for over 10 years at the time and caught plenty of tarpon with my clients using lures and spin tackle but none on the fly rod. This was an exciting day for me.
It's hard to fathom why a tarpon is eagerly willing to take a 3" long rooster feather fly. Freddy use to attend cock fights in New Orleans and would bring home a cape or two and stick in his freezer.

Here I am standing on the bow of his Shipoke, when a school of slow moving daisy chaining fish with their fins breaking the water surface. There was a light wind creating the perfect chop on the gulf's waters. Perfect conditions to cast into the 5-7 foot long fish. Somehow, I managed to chuck the fly into the center of perhaps a dozen fish. They continued their pre-spawning ritual without spooking from my flinging cast. 

My heart was pounding and the adrenaline was at its peak. I stripped the fly in and Freddy instructed the speed and length(I think I heard him). Then the line came tight and jolted instantly. The huge tarpon came only half way out of the water. This was a big fish. i was clueless how to strike a tarpon properly, she came up with power only a tarpon can portray. Because I did not point my rod to the fish aka "bow to the King", the 5-foot fish shook the fly loose from its head frolicking side to side. 

To overcome from spin fishing to fly fishing or from fly fishing the mountain streams, to the flats of Florida, for silver king tarpon has to be paramount, whether a beginner or one who has not big game fished. Overcome is a good word to define the use of a long rod; to defeat the difficult purpose and successfully gain control and be affected very strongly. You need to become a sponge for knowledge, apply it and practice daily for 20 minutes each day. You have to have a double-haul to propel the fly to the target to longer distances than most types of fly fishing before you step on a guide skiff. Have confidence. It is ok to begin at the top of the field to pursue big fish.

Fly rods have evolved since I started using Fiberglass some 30 years ago. I've owned the best fly rods on the market from over a half dozen top companies. I still have and use fly rods that are over 20 years old. That's one reason Orvis has so much faith in their fly rods and warranty.

The industry continues to manufacture the strongest and sleekest with the lightest materials available. The Orvis Helios 2 rod family is one of the top fly rods in the country and built in the USA. Their 25-year warranty proves their confidence of the product. 

Do you want to catch a tarpon on the fly? Get the passion and tell me you want to get started by looking me up at the fly shop in Dade City.

Capt. Mike Locklear

Mr. MacRae Saved Woman in Gulf

After reading yesterday about the ongoing hunt for a Maryland man.  The Coast Guard did find 2 of the 3 men from waters near Cedar Key that were in the water because the boat capsized.  He was reported to be wearing a life jacket.  

I thought similar occurrences and one will always pull on my heart stings. The most successful end to a rescue that I personally know of was when Duncan MacRae of Homosassa found a woman who had been treading water for an estimated 18 hours.

A couple and their dog set out from MacRae’s Bait House in a rental boat and went several  miles offshore and went swimming.  The dog jumped overboard and as the wife swam after dog and the man swam after the boat, the two got separated. 

The wind and tide pushed the boat out of reach to the woman, but the man was able to catch the boat after a long swim. Once in the boat, began searching for his wife to no avail.  He drove back to MacRae’s as fast as he could  A search was launched that afternoon.  Through the night with search lights of shrimp boats and others she was not found.

Mr. Duncan(my employers years after this), laid in his bed and thought of the tides and wind direction to where she might be come daylight.  It is surmised as he dozed off that part of the whereabouts were presented in a dream.  

Before daylight Duncan, recruited the help of Johnny Huggins to ride along. The boat they used was identical and part of Duncan’s  fleet of a dozen or so Courtney Boats made of wood from Longwood, FL.  

As God himself was co-piloting Duncan’s boat, he drove straight to where she was.  Duncan told Johnny to grab her arm soon as the boat arrived because sometimes a person will give up and sink at the sight of being rescued.  As the boat came by fast, Johnny grabbed her arm and in one swoop pulled her inside the boat.

The rescue made the reader’s digest and I met her 20 years later at the Baithouse.  She sat there in awe of the man who saved her life.  She said the spot lights all night long kept her faith.  One boat came close she said.

Mr. MacRae was not only a pillar of the community and helped all those who came to him he served humbly as a Deacon, Usher and Greeter at the First Baptist Church of Homosassa for many years.  He passed away on September 29, 2006.  http://www.sptimes.com/2006/09/30/Citrus/Homosassa_loses_its_s.shtml

Walt and Me - Fishing the Nature Coast

Well, Walt and I had redfishing withdrawal this past week.  So, after bad weather conditions and working in Walt’s yard with his tractor, we were overdue to head out.  As we prepared the boat and once at the ramp, the launch went without a hitch.  I was feeling relief as pressure of hustle and bustle rolled off my shoulders by the river’s beauty and salt air.  My plan was to find some new spots, that I had not fished before and some that I had not been at for a long time.

With an incoming tide in the morning, we left a little earlier to take advantage of the best conditions. Coupled with a south wind, it could not be better.  Winds were brisk and a moderate chop on the water worked well for us, too.  

Our 7' medium heavy action spinning rods spooled with 10-pound Power Pro and a 20-pound was attached to our artificial lures.  We never changed, just used the same lure all day, as this is our favorite way to fish and they work well for us.  We can cover a lot of ground with these.

This morning the reds were aggressive following our lures, swiping it, thumping it until we were solid with several double-hook ups.  As the tide neared high, winds picked up to 15 mph.  So I drove us inshore to get out of the wind a little, to one of our snook spots but no one was home.  

All but two reds were all slot size up to 26”.  We caught and released pushing 20 for the day.  Early on, I could not come tight on the first 5.  Meanwhile, Walt’s catching them.  I checked my hook and sharpened it.  Could not be my fault:-) 

One of the minor drawbacks fishing with lures are hanging up on the rocks.  These lures will sink to the bottom and hang up if you are not reeling fast.  Sometimes we had stick the rod tip into the water and reel the spoon to the rod tip to set it free.  This happened way too many times, so I switch to a lighter lure.  But keeping our rod tips up and reeling a little faster was effective.  All of this helped.

After a great tasting meatloaf sandwich that Suzie made(Walt’s wife) the wind velocity increased to near 20.  I fired up the skiff and drove 5 miles to a creek that was an area that I cut my teeth on.  It is one of the rockiest creeks I know and just getting into it requires an idle speed approach.

We caught the majority of our reds in a stretch of 150 yards and one hour of fishing.   We had some protection from the mangroves but not a whole lot.  Without the iPilot trolling motor, it would have been impossible to fish without anchoring.

On our way back in, we felt good because of all the reds we caught and being one with nature.

Bass on Steriods

While I have caught grouper up to 42-pounds in the Bahamas, a very respectable gag these days is anywhere from 10-pounds and up. Some landed in 3-4 feet of water depth.  Who would ever think that a grouper that size would live in such shallow water.  Gags(mistakenly called black grouper)commonly spend most of their adult lives in deeper water.  While incidental I have caught them in the lower river. In the late 80's, Gag and red grouper size limits when I started were 12" with no bag. 24" is the new size limit today.

Since the regulations of size and bag limits were implemented, a steady rise of fish populations have increased despite chaos between fishermen.  Tightening the regulations is a good thing except for the mighty Jew Fish aka Goliath grouper.(Goliath was a Philistine. The change from an easily pronounced 1 syllable name to 3 syllables irks me.  Therefore, it is still a jew fish in my book.  Simply put, why is a 700 pound fish allowed to eat a 10 to 30 pound grouper and continue to be protected from harvest. From a reliable source an estimate of over a million pounds a year are eaten by Jew Fish. Since they are protected, the decline of gags around wrecks continue to diminish.

Over the years fishermen and ladies have located spots that have tunnels to the aquifer.   Sometimes the opening can be less than the size of the fish in some cases. This indicates that the tunnel is connected to another opening or openings.  A 10-pound fish in a 5-pound hole!

One such crack, crevice or old Spring I am describing was such a place that was clearly connected to tunnels below and side to side corridor miles long(divers have lost their lives in there), located in 3 feet of water on low tide.  My anglers JM and I had been out fishing for other species, mainly trout.  Of course, you can catch a dozen or more different species while trout fishing.

My ole friend and the best there ever was in my book showed me this spot 40 years ago(God!).  He used the point of one island and a landmark on the mainland.  This is called dead reckoning and I reckon most young whippersnappers don’t know what that is with GPS and all.

I had been after this beast of a grouper using light tackle with heavy test braid at least for two trips. The first man was elderly and just not strong enough to keep the fish out of the hole.  Once it goes down, the rocks are sharp and the line gets cut.

The picture of me and the grouper that did not get away was from a trip with Pat Burchard and daughter, probably, Sue. They loved fishing and being outdoors as good as anyone I have met. We fished many times. This picture was taken by them. I love the lighthouse on Monkey Island in the background.

You have to realize that most grouper have spent their entire lives living around structure.  They live inside it and only come out to browse and forage for food.  If they feel something is wrong like resistance, they head towards the rocks to hole up thus breaking the line and leader.

But, because of braid fishing line making a tremendous comeback in sales and usage by grouper diggers, many more grouper are being landed compared to the use of monofilament of past.  

The dawn of bait or spin casting large lures with lighter stiff rods came into play using 50-pound braid.   I for one became a shallow water guide catching limits almost every day and many more… to be continued... there are so many more exciting trips that a lot of you have great memories of.

Keep your rod tip up...