Guy Harvey Magazine

SUM 2017

Guy Harvey Magazine is focused on fishing, boating, scuba diving, and marine conservation. Portfolios from the world's best fishing photographers, articles on gear, travel, tournaments, apparel, lifestyle, seafood recipes, sustainable fisheries.

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www.GuyHarveyMagazine.com | 71 long until we were in a school of redfish, a species I know like a brother. They were skittish but we managed to do battle with a few and scare away even more. A kayak is only stealthy if the pilot is quiet. Too much banging around and you might as well drop a cinder block into the water. We did more touring than catching that day, but the Outback 13 proved to be plenty stable for me to stand, even when I donned my fly rod. I decided I'd keep it for day two and let the rest haggle over the PAs. As I pedaled back to the Tarpon Lodge dock around cocktail hour, I was tired, sunburned, hungry and in need of cool liquid. I slipped to the bar hoping no one noticed me. I'd already been frustrated by a slow afternoon of fishing; the last thing I needed was another cornhole whipping. Episode Three - Matlacha Pass Aquatic Preserve: Snookalicious From Tarpon Lodge, if you're after the coveted Silver Kings, you just boogie north about six miles to world-famous Boca Grande pass. Tarpon catching at BGP has been the rage for more than 100 years. Yep, all the way back to the late 1800s when men wore coats and ties to fish. Our plan did not include tracking the ubiquitous silver fish, nor wearing anything but cool high-tech fabrics. Our hunt was for snook in a mangrove-infested and quite gorgeous place called Matlacha. The bone Spook that JD had suggested was still hanging from my rod tip from the previous day so I pedaled deep into the mangroves, trying to lose my fellow "Hobits." I found a dark trough running parallel to the mangroves and tossed the Spook, hoping for a big strike. Cast after cast. Nothing. An hour passed. Not even a surface slap. I even tried to get a mosquito to bite me. Nada. I decided to take drastic measures. I reached into my tackle box and grabbed a Super Spook. As the name clearly explains to even the most muddy- brained fisherman, this is not just a Spook but a far better lure by the exact measurement of "Super." It's also a bit larger, heavier and has an extra treble hook. Its flingability is also super. On my very first cast, the Super Spook landed with a loud, almost frightening splash. I popped it twice. As I was initiating my third twitch, a beast of a snookie broke the surface and inhaled the SS. I played the fish cautiously and soon landed it. After a quick selfie, I let her go to live long and prosper. Next cast. Another crash. A smaller but nonetheless plenty pissed off snook fought me valiantly: I brought him gently to daddy and then sent him on his way. Two casts later. Splash, crash. Another fish and then another and then still another. I had indeed stumbled into a sweet combination of the right lure, phase of the moon, tidal flow and mystic voodoo chants to produce a prodigious amount of snookmania. The universe smiled. I smiled, too. The kayak experience was once again proving fruitful. The mid-morning wind began to howl and the launch site was, of course, directly upwind. I exited the calm of the mangrove jungle and pointed the bow into onslaught of one-to-two-foot waves. My legs burned but I pressed on until I Left: The author with one of many snook he landed from the comfort of his kayak. Below: Rigged and ready. Self contained kayak fishing at its best.

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