When you run out
the Crystal River in northwestern Citrus County, the Progress Energy
nuclear power plant stands as the dominant landmark amid this realm
of marsh grass, shell bars and spoil banks.
Local anglers
know that the plant’s smoke stacks indicate wind speed and direction,
and that they also provide a reference point for the bounty of angling
opportunity within clear sight of these structures.
Redfish, black
drum and sheepshead roam the shorelines and tarpon roll in the river
during the cooler months. But coastal and nearshore waters offer a one-two
combination of hard-hitting angling action that seldom fails to produce.
UPS AND
DOWNS
About three miles
outside the river, in 6 to 10 feet, the bottom rises and drops in sandy
ripples known as "The Humps." Ripe with rod-bending potential, this
area covers about half a square mile and attracts Spanish mackerel,
bluefish, speckled trout, cobia and sharks.
"This is a nice
area where people can come out, throw bait or artificials and catch
a variety of fish," said Dan Clymer, a lifetime resident of Crystal
River.
A regular on The
Humps, Clymer drops off plane just outside of where the bottom begins
to undulate, idles into the hot zone, and looks for the one factor that
consistently holds predators in any given area.
"Look at all
that bait," Clymer said on a recent outing.
Like so many days
he’s seen, wave after wave of forage fish, mostly glass minnows, ambled
past the boat. The Humps attract bait schools and the bait attracts
lots of predators. It’s that simple.
Macks and bluefish
feed with reckless abandon, and when they set their sights on a meal
that dashes topside, their momentum carries them several feet into the
air before a noisy splashdown. On an active day, the feeding frenzy
looks like dozens of miniature missiles shot from salty silos.
Favoring the simplicity
of artificials, Clymer tosses 1/4-ounce jigs with shad tails and jerkbaits
or Gotcha plugs. "You hear a lot about how mackerel only like silver
lures, but I’ve had my (best results) on the gold Gotcha," Clymer
noted.
During a recent
trip, fellow Crystal River pro Joe Berthein drifted nearby. Slinging
a chrome Rat-L-Trap, he spanked the speckled trout—several of which
put the chomp on his plug less than 20 feet from the boat.
Slow-trolling
live threadfin herring or finger mullet on stinger rigs will appeal
to the mackerel and bluefish, as will floating baitfish or live shrimp
under popping corks for trout. Working jigs under corks or rattling
floats will attract the trout, as the surface chugging imitates feeding
activity and stimulates other predators.
Whatever you fish,
sticking close to the bait schools—often identified by leaping predators
and diving birds—anglers can typically count on steady action and
a mixed bag of fish.
On windy days,
a drift sock, or sea anchor, will slow your boat so you can more thoroughly
work the area. If the bite is slow to start or tapers off, towing a
frozen chumblock creates a scent line that stimulates nearby predators
and gives distant fish a trail to follow.
MAJOR IMPACT
After an hour
or two of working The Humps, anglers can transition to the area’s
rugged limestone outcroppings where aggressive gag grouper will burst
forth from their haunts and thump a trolled plug with authority.
Spring and fall
see the best grouper action on Crystal River rockpiles. Winter finds
the fish moving to deeper habitat, while summer brings water temperatures
too high for the gag’s comfort. The hot months also find stringy "gumbo"
weed matting nearshore rocks.
"When the water
temperature is in the high 60s to low 70s, and there’s no grass, that’s
the time to dust off your big plugs and go trolling," Clymer said.
His top spots
lie in 15 to 30 feet, but keeper gags are occasionally taken as shallow
as six feet. Understandably, the closer spots get hammered and the fish
get educated. Thus, your opportunity level increases correspondingly
with distance from shore.
"Basically,
we’re just looking for good structure and dragging lures over the
fish," Clymer said.
Armed with stout
boat roads carrying 3/0 class reels with 50-pound braided line and 60-pound
fluorocarbon leaders, Clymer trolls large-lipped plugs designed to reach
as deep as 25 feet. The big lip guides the lure to the desired depth
and also helps avoid snags by bumping across the structure if you get
too close to a rock.
Braided line helps
get the plugs down deep by slicing through the water with less resistance
than monofilament. Dropping lures back farther and increasing your trolling
speed will pull them even deeper.
Clymer varies
his lure colors based on water clarity. Bright patterns such as firetiger,
clown (red/orange/yellow) and dorado (yellow/green/blue) work best for
murky conditions, while dark-back models that imitate mullet or lizardfish
produce well in clear water. The classic red/white pattern is always
a good option.
Sometimes one
color will outperform others, but the fundamental attraction comes from
a lure’s vibration—the side-to-side wiggle that mimics a trembling
baitfish and makes a grouper hit a piece of plastic. Watching his depth
recorder, Clymer runs at 4 or 5 knots and adjusts his speed accordingly
to tow his offerings right across the grouper’s dinner table.
"You don’t
want to run under the fish, because they’ll be looking up readyto
whack a baitfish," Clymer said. "They’ll feel that vibration and
bring you to your knees."
You’ll want
enough drag to move a grouper away from his fortress, but leave enough
give so the combination of a moving boat and non-stretching braid doesn’t
rip the lure from the fish’s mouth. Usually, your forward motion will
muscle the grouper out of his hole, but the coastal rocks hold plenty
of drag-stripping trucks in the 15- to 20-pound range.
Fishing a 22-foot
bay boat, Clymer bucks traditional rodholder tactics and instructs his
anglers to manually tend to their rods while trolling.
"So many times
you have rods in the rod holder, you hook a fish and as you reel up
the other rod you get slammed. So, I put two and two together and said
‘There must be something to this.’
"So when I go
over the structure, I start jerking that plug just like you would when
fishing for trout. The grouper feel that (extra) vibration and it seems
to trigger the strikes. They see (a lot of straight trolling), but if
you jerk that rod and you really get that plug moving hard, they can’t
stand it."
If one angler
hooks up, the other one should rip their plugs erratically to entice
the handful of grouper that almost always follow a struggling fish to
the boat.
Capt. Bill Miller
of Tampa recently joined Clymer for a day of rock trolling and found
that this style of fishing guarantees an angler won’t fall asleep
on duty.
"You really
feel that lure vibrating and it’s a challenge to hold onto the rod,"
Miller said. "But you feel everything that happens with your lure."
Sometimes what
you feel is the slashing attack of overzealous lizardfish, but sometimes
a grouper’s ill-aimed attack ends in a miss. Responding with a couple
of rapid twitches often brings the fish back for a second shot.
"When you have
the rod in the rod holder, there are several times that the fish will
hit at the plug before getting hooked," Clymer said. "When you’re
holding the rod, you feel that and you know what you’ve been missing."
Now, don’t despair
if you lack numbers for specific rocks. First of all, there’s plenty
of structure out there, and these formations are usually visible below
the surface. (Polarized sunglasses are essential.) Also, watch for sea
turtles, which live around the same hard bottom structure that attracts
grouper.
Crabbers set their
traps over hard bottom, so a line of marker buoys provides another visual
cue of possible grouper habitat. Consider your line length when trolling
and steer clear of buoys to avoid snagging their ropes.
Even with no target,
trolling plugs is a great way to locate new spots. Just pick a heading
and troll until you get a strike. Note the area and circle back to mark
the structure. Repeat this pattern until you establish an active depth
zone and then go looking for new rocks to troll.
On your way in,
you might venture a few casts across The Humps.
Plug Protection
When you locate a hot trolling
bite, consider that the tool of your success can quickly become your
enemy. Treble hooks are effective at grabbing fish and fishermen, so
exercise high caution.
Capt. Bill Miller explains: "When
you’re removing the plug from a hooked grouper, no matter what that
fish does, don’t let go. If you drop a hooked fish the plug can snag
you in your hand or arm and then you’ll be in trouble."
Minimize this hazard by gripping
your fish under the soft gill covers. Pinch firmly with your thumb on
the outside and fingers between the inside of the gill flap and the
first set of gills. Avoid reaching between the gills where rows of sharp
gill rakers keep debris from flowing through as the fish breathes. Fingers
go in easily, but coming out is painful.
Altering your grouper plugs by
replacing standard treble hooks with singles will significantly reduce
the danger to anglers and facilitates safe, quick release for undersized
fish. You may miss a few hookups, but some consider this a fair tradeoff.
Plugs of any configuration can
wreak havoc if allowed to dangle. That’s rarely an intentional miscue,
as most anglers know to secure the plug’s back hook in the frame of
a rod guide and reel out the slack. But when rods stand in leaning post
or T-top holders, you may not notice if a plug bounces loose during
your run.
Wrapping a plastic hair clip around
your plug keeps it under control, even if the hook slips free from its
station. Velcro strips also achieve the plug-taming objective. —D.B.