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A lesson to be learned; An Islamorada expert proves angling success is
achieved when careful preparation meets opportunity- regardless of the
quarry.
It was a long time since I’d traveled to the Purple Isles and there was much for me to look forward to. I was planning a first-time long weekend stay at Islamorada’s famed Cheeca Lodge that was paired with an offshore trip on Captain Greg Poland’s 27 ft. Conch. Poland is a local expert who left the FBI to pursue his passion. He is a native of South Florida and has guided many anglers to championships in some of the most prestigious flats fishing tournaments in the world. Captain Poland helped design two popular flats skiffs, including the Dolphin Superskiff and the Hell's Bay Whipray. Greg has been featured in numerous television shows and sport fishing journals and has a deep passion for the sport. Whether on a mother ship adventure out of Walker’s Cay in the Bahamas, marlin fishing in the Caribbean, or teaching at the Island Fly Fishing School in the Florida Keys, Greg is at home with beginners as well as with tournament anglers. I was thrilled to have an opportunity to spend time with him on the water.
The trip was scheduled for the most vibrant time of year- the winter season. Regardless, the lessons learned can be applied to any time of the year. For all traveling anglers who journey to Florida in Kris Kringle time, success comes in the form of timing the fishing adventure to occur between cold fronts. It did transpire that a whopper of a front that originated in Canada arrived with me at the “Sport Fishing Capital of the World.”
Since my planning gave me a four-day stay, I was secure that I’d probably get at least one good-weather day to fish with Greg. He made it clear he’d make himself available to make the trip happen. This left me free to enjoy the cold, clear blue skies above rolling mocha-colored Florida Bay as I moseyed down the Overseas Highway.
As I headed down Windley Key towards upper Matecumbe Key, a cascade of angling memories washed over me- each of them a triumphant testament to the incredibly diverse environment of Islamorada which stretches from the shallow backcountry of Florida Bay out to the deep blue of the Florida Straits. As I crossed Whale Harbor Bridge into “downtown,” I had a conclusive feeling that I was really entering the Mecca of light tackle and fly fishing for the entire Florida Keys. No other city- even Key West- could lay claim to such a concentration of expert guides equally at home stalking, and catching Florida’s most popular marine game fish.
It was late afternoon when I turned into Cheeca. In the short days of winter, the light was fading on Islamorada for another day. But before vanishing, the sun cast a silver-lemon radiance over sky and water that I would swear was the path to a Christmas pot of gold.
After situating myself in a beautiful room, I stepped out onto the balcony to enjoy the view that swept from the Atlantic shoreline out to Florida Bay. As I enjoyed the expanse, I noticed that the large American flag that graces the entrance to the Cheeca was undulating more slowly; it seemed the wind was lying down. A few minutes later, the phone rang in my suite. Captain Greg announced that the forecast for the next day featured much calmer winds. Since our trip was into the Atlantic, we’d be spared the concerns of residual muddiness that tomorrow’s backcountry anglers would face. So, after all, the trip was on!
Our plans were to meet near Greg’s beautiful home alongside his offshore vessel around 6:00 a.m. I looked forward to the group we’d have aboard. I was delighted that noted angling expert and photographer Pat Ford would be on hand to record the trip with his striking images. Since we needed another angler, I persuaded my friend Jim Porter to take the day off from his busy law practice. Rounding out our group was marine safety expert Brigitte Goll. Everyone arrived right on time and saw to their different tasks.
Preparation pays off…
Like all effective angling pursuits, the key to the success of this trip was solid and well-thought preparation. In that spirit, as Greg loaded his vessel with a full arsenal of tackle, he pointed out that he’d be taking lots of chum- this was a product that he felt was a foundation of successful reef and drop-off fishing. In short order, he loaded boxes of frozen block chum in one of the huge ice chests: its initial application would be to attract baitfish like pilchards and balao (a close cousin to the ballyhoo) to the boat for netting. In addition, the block chum would later be used for luring in game fish once we reached the offshore fishing grounds. Greg also hauled aboard two buckets of “sand-ball” chum that would be employed for yellowtail snapper on the patch reefs.
After checking his vessel and equipment, Greg launched his rig at a nearby ramp. His Verado fired up quickly but quietly. The bayside waters had settled down considerably with the wind coming out of the northwest at 15 mph as Greg’s rig surged forward and sliced through the emerald-colored wavelets crisply and quickly. In what seemed about a minute, Greg slowed down as he approached a narrow channel that cut through the island. He pointed straight off the tip of his bow and said, “About sixty feet…check it out.” It was easy for everyone onboard to see the surface-dimpling of baitfish at the juncture of the channel and some overhanging mangroves.
He slowly eased his boat close to the bait and slipped the engine into neutral. The astonishingly quiet operation of the outboard left the baitfish in an undisturbed state. Greg readied his cast net and made a perfect throw over the silvery whitebait. As he pulled in his net, the flashes made it clear he’d shortly be shaking plenty of livies into his aft livewell. A few more tosses of his net, and we had enough bait for the trip. It was time to get underway.
We made our approach from Florida Bay into Snake Creek, which provided ocean access. As we neared the Snake Creek Bridge, Greg eased his vessel towards a waterside tackle shop where he picked up a few dozen large live shrimp to supplement the whitebait we’d already caught. It certainly became clear to me that Greg’s approach of using multiple chums and baits would certainly maximize our chances for success.
After clearing the ocean side of Snake Creek channel, Greg pushed down the throttles, and we jumped on plane over a silvery-green ocean topped by tiny wavelets that were the departing front’s final signature on the sea. He pointed his bow towards Alligator Light and off we went.
As a result of his thorough planning- which always starts the night before- he knew which captains and anglers would already be in the vicinity. His concerns were two-fold. First, he wanted to know about any unfolding action over the reefs and the drop-off. Second, he wanted to ascertain where the balao were concentrated so he’d be able to possibly net and use yet another form of live bait. After perhaps four or five conversations on both his cell phone and VHF, he determined that our initial efforts should begin a few miles southwest of the light along the reef line. Greg slowly eased his vessel over and around the multi-colored patch reefs while simultaneously checking his instruments to determine his exact location.
Once we were situated to Greg’s satisfaction, he immediately deployed some block chum in a net. It was tied off to one of his stern cleats in classic fashion. The chum immediately gave off a multi-colored slick that the wind pushed offshore. At the same time, small pieces of solid chum cascaded towards the bottom. An angler’s expectant fever for action can turn mere minutes into eternities, and this case was no exception- at least for Jim and me. Ever so slowly, a big school of balao started grouping itself off our stern while below us, fishy forms materialized. Greg pointed to a bunch of brightly colored fish below us and said, “There’s our yellowtail!”
Greg shook the chum bag vigorously and tossed over a couple of dead pilchards that he said would serve as hors d’oeuvres. At first, nothing happened. Greg kept shaking the chum bag. As it released more particles, we could actually see the fish below rising up. In moments, line flew off my reel as a feisty yellowtail snatched my pilchard. There was no need to strike the fish as my rod deeply bowed over and the fish pulled line off the drag. After a two-minute battle, I had my fish close to the surface and in short order, Greg tossed the two pound yellowtail on ice.
Jim had hooked up during my battle as well. As he pumped his fish to the surface, it was clear that he was tight to a quality-size flag. As Greg netted the fish, it appeared almost twice as big as the one I’d just landed. After these two landings, Greg opened his sandball chum bucket and started easing over hand-sculpted baseballs of a muddy mysterious composition that cascaded scent and fishy bits throughout the water column. The yellowtail loved it!
The action began to unfold and accelerate. Brigitte joined us at the stern and quickly hooked up as well. After a vigorous battle with her gamester, Greg netted her small amberjack. Shaking the chum bag and tossing a few more dead pilchards and sandballs astern stoked the action. A smorgasbord of reef dwellers consisting of yellowtail, blue runners, amberjack and mutton snapper spiced up with an occasional Spanish mackerel and gag grouper lasted for the better part of the morning.
After Greg was satisfied that we’d all had our fill, he fired up his engine and weighed anchor. The sea was calming down fast and the ride back to the waters off Alligator Light seemed very short. As we slowed, we spotted a free-jumping sailfish barely a hundred feet away. Greg cut the engine and grabbed three 12 lb. spinners that Brigitte, Jim, and I would use. As the water was clear, Greg stuck with 60 lb. fluorocarbon leaders that were already on the outfits. He did change to long-shank hooks to minimize cutoffs from the kingfish that he had determined were in the area. Although we did not hook up with the sailfish, we caught enough kings to leave us thoroughly sated. By the time the trip was over, none of us were left with any doubt that Captain Greg’s dedication saw to it that we had a fantastic day of varied action! We had landed nearly a dozen different species ranging from the exotic, top the common. The trip was yet another example that proved angling success is achieved when careful preparation meets opportunity- regardless of the quarry. Live by this lesson, and you’ll be a better angler.
The Cheeca Lodge-
The Cheeca Lodge has undergone some fascinating growth and changes in recent years. It has a venerable history of top-flight lodging and service for America’s saltwater angling elite. The Cheeca- as it’s often called- has flowered into the largest and most comprehensive family-friendly resort in the Florida Keys. As I toured the facility, it was clear that this impressive expansion maintained the five-star excellence that the original operation was so well known for.
This marvelous destination is open year round. Attractions at The Cheeca include tennis, golf, water sports, boat rentals, beaches, ocean access for vessels, a 525-foot fishing pier, seaside fish lagoon, health and beauty spa, fitness center and the acclaimed Camp Cheeca for children ages 4 to 14.
When You Go-
Cheeca Lodge
Mile Marker 82 (Ocean side)
Islamorada, Florida
1-800-327-2888
www.Cheeca.com
Captain Greg Poland
Islamorada, Florida
1-305-852-9940
www.GregPoland.com
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