The Best Time To Go Fishing

The Best Time

To Go Fishing  

Is, of course, every day! 

Unfortunately, not even a fishing guide can do that. But that age-old-question crops up constantly, and now it’s more prevalent than ever because of the increasingly limited time men and women can get away from work without getting fired. 

In more than twenty years of taking people fishing and hunting for pay, I guess the question I get first and most is: “When should I be there?”  

The obvious answer is, “Whenever you can get away from work and the family.” But we all know it’s much more than that.  

Sure, the very idea of flying off somewhere cool (or, in the case of Florida during the next several months—HOT!) is appealing. No, the underlying factor revolves not around the Act Of Fishing, but rather the Fact Of Catching Fish.

I mean, why bother to come all this way if you can save the money and just stay home imagining that you caught fish? Virtual Reality, right? 

Well.  

First, let me point out that if I had a mortal lock on the question “When?” I probably wouldn’t be guiding. I’d be so darn rich from picking hot stock tips or horses that Kate and I would be languishing poolside sipping something trendy while casually flipping tennis balls for Heart and Tug to retrieve. 

Second, those darn weather-guessers have an uncanny way of being wrong ninety percent of the time. Maybe I should just bet against whatever they claim is going to happen. Couldn’t do any worse than they do! 

Third, The Guide is supposed to have the answers about gear. Rod weight. Floating or sink-tip line. Fly selection. And goodness yes—location, location, location of the fish. The Guide (note the Upper Cast T & G) already has it all doped out down to the nanosecond, right? 

Okay, now let’s settle back into reality and consider the educated guesses (like weather forecasts) that might steer us in the right direction. 

No matter what species of fish an angler decides to target, there always is a “window” that ranges from “locked tight” to “wide open,” with varying degrees of latitude tossed into the mix. 

Tarpon, for instance, migrate to the southwest coast of Florida sometime in April, and spawn on the full moons in May and June. That’s when the “window” is wide open. April and July will offer a lot of pretty good shots.

Right now? Sure, let’s run up some creeks and canals and find some babies that are ten to twenty pounds, or juvies in the forty or fifty-pound class. 

If you’re interested in casting to stacked-up snook around lighted docks at night, right now the window is wide open! Water temps are dropping and the fish are moving way up into warmer, muddy-bottom creeks and the Intracoastal Waterway.

BUT, there has to be a strong flow of moving water in order to wash baitfish and shrimp into feeding areas. Otherwise, going out when the tide isn’t moving is nothing more than a boat ride in the moonlight. Which might be romantic, but not necessarily productive in fish hookups.

That means specific nights can be far better than others just a few days either side of the “open window,”   

You want tailing redfish? Winter tides in southwest Florida are the lowest of the year. So, finding fish means getting up early, early, early and driving the boat to some spots in Charlotte Harbor or Lemon Bay.

Then it’s time to shut down the motor and pole to within fifty yards of the potholes, oyster bars, or mangrove shorelines where the reds are feeding.  

Did I say fifty yards? Yep. Then pull on your neoprene or breathable waders and hoof into casting position. 

If you’ve got the patience that’s required to investigate literally a hundred or more trap lines, this also is prime time for tripletail in the Gulf of Mexico.

They look absolutely prehistoric, but put up one heckuva fight and taste fabulous if you’re inclined to “release to grease.”  

The window is marginally open for King and Spanish mackerel, and there still are a few false albacore around. Very large spotted sea trout are abundant right now, and pompano, bluefish, sheepshead and flounder all are moving into the backcountry. 

So, take a careful look at your work load. Just remember that when the window closes, it stays shut for a long, long time.

And don’t ever forget what Alfred W. Miller (a.k.a. Sparse Grey Hackle) wrote nearly a century ago: “The fish do not rise in Greenlawn Cemetery.”