How to Smoke Fish: Two Methods.

How to Smoke Fish at Home!© 2011 Albert A Rasch and
The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles™
and Seafood NIC
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Smoking Fish 

Smoked fish are fish that have been cured by smoking. As part of our Self Sufficiency series, we have researched the process for smoking fish for our faithful and errudite readers. The preservation of fish has been an integral part of every culture that subsisted on fish. Over thousands of years, man has perfected the art of drying, salting and smoking fish. The fisherman's catch, if properly preserved, can be an exciting addition to family meals over an extended period of time; when properly done smoking will preserve fish for several weeks or even months. Smoking is not only one of the oldest methods of preserving fish, but an excellent way to preserve fish that you don't plan to or cannot eat immediately. The fish dries an it hangs over a smoldering fire while the smoke infuses it with its distinct aroma and flavor. Not only does the wood smoke add flavor, it also adds color. The brining process that precedes smoking, helps to preserve the fish.

Gone Fishin'! : Releasing Fish Unharmed

© 2010 Albert A Rasch and
The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles™
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Here are some important tips on releasing fish unharmed, so they will live to be caught another day.

Fishing isn't what it used to be, there was a time when you just went out and fished with little regard for the fish. Regulations were far and few in between, and social customs different.

But now we have slot limits, catch limits, open and closed seasons, catch and no-catch zones; it's a wonder we can still fish! The fish though keep on biting, and we must do everything we can to make sure the resource isn't harmed by our actions. How you release a fish, determines if it will survive to fight another day, or if it becomes food for crabs and seagulls.

I read a long treatise (available here) on Striper mortality with respect to fish hooks. The long and the short of it is that the major cause of mortality in released fish comes from where a fish is hooked, and how the hook is removed. To make it short, circle hooks don't kill stripers as readily as J hooks. Circle hooks tend to only hook the fish in the jaw, whereas there is a high percentage chance of a J hook hooking a fish past the gills. The odds of a Striped Bass dying were 17-times higher if the bass was deeply hooked. The J-shaped hooks had 3.7-times greater chance of gut hooking a fish than circle hooks did. By switching to circle hooks, you can reduce fish mortality by a factor of four!

Wild Ed wrote a very good piece on the circle hook, Texas Fishermen Love the Circle Hook. He says: "All you had to do was start reeling and the fish would hook themselves. The best part was ninety-nine percent of them were hooked right in the corner of the mouth. No more gut hooked fish and no more undersized fished hooked so deep they would die upon release!"

There are other steps we can take to help nurture and protect our fish resource. The way you handle your catch makes a difference in how well they survive the encounter.

As you may know, handling a fish can remove much of the protective slime coat off of the fish's body leaving it vulnerable to parasites and infections. The best technique for releasing a fish would be one where you don't touch it. There are de-hookers available that allow you to remove the hook with out touching the fish. If you have to handle the fish, wet your hands, or use soft gloves that are wet to gently hold the fish and not rub the slime off. If you frequent any of the flyfishing blogs, you'll notice that they always take great pains to carefully unhook the fish, many times barely holding the fish where it breaks the surface. They tend to use barbless hooks, and soft rubber coated nets.

Give a thought as to how you handle you fish. It is a resource that is renewable, and we need to treat it with care!

Best Regards,
Albert A Rasch
Member: Shindand Tent Club
Member: Hunting Sportsmen of the United States HSUS (Let 'em sue me.)
The Hunt Continues...

Though he spends most of his time writing and keeping the world safe for democracy, Albert was actually a student of biology. Really. But after a stint as a lab tech performing repetitious and mind-numbing processes that a trained capuchin monkey could do better, he never returned to the field. Rather he became a bartender. As he once said, "Hell, I was feeding mice all sorts of concoctions. At the club I did the same thing; except I got paid a lot better, and the rats where bigger." He has followed the science of QDM for many years, and fancies himself an aficionado. If you have any questions, or just want to get more information, reach him via TheRaschOutdoorChronicles(at)MSN(dot)com.

Spoons: They're Not Just for Cereal!

© 2010 Albert A Rasch™ and
The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles
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"But do tell: A spoon in a bird's chest?

That is too damn weird - whatup with that?"

NorCal Cazadora

Couldn't resist it, honest!

After Holly's comment on the spoon in the pelican's chest, I promised to have a short discussion on the lures used for fishing that are called spoons.

My near-shore spoon selection:

Dressed nickel spoon, dressed nickel Krocodile, brass Krocodile, dressed nickle KastMaster, smaller dressed nickle KastMaster, hammer finished Hopkins spoon, brass Clark spoon w/swivel, and nickel Clark spoon.

To those folks that don't fish, it might seem a little strange when fishermen talk in their peculiar jargon. Plugs, streamers, midges, spinners, jigs, flies and spoons are all artificial lures used in the attempt to fool a fish into striking and getting itself impaled on a hook.

Who invented the spoon,
or the history of fishing spoons according to Albert.

My guess is that this all started sometime in the past when a Viking lopped the arm off of some other guy who was having breakfast on the deck off of his lodge. The spoon flew out of the now detached hand and fell into the water, whereupon the two were amazed when a fish sped by, and struck at the twisting, flashing spoon as it dropped into the depths.

That's why I think fishing spoons are probably among the oldest manufactured lure. When they saw that, they probably figured out that a shiny piece of metal might just get a hungry fish to strike. So they headed over to the smithy, fight and arm forgotten, and told the smith to hammer out a thin, oval shaped, concave dish of metal and attach a forged hook to it. Eureka, the spoon was born!

Spoons are generally either silver or brass in color, and normally come in either a polished, or hammered finish. Spoons wobble or dart depending on the retrieve, and the flashing and sparkling play of light off the body attract fish. There are painted and partially decorated spoons too, but I don't use them much, the nickel and brass ones pretty much working out well enough for me, thank you very much.

How do you rig a spoon?

Spoons do tend to twist and turn, usually in one direction. It's one of the things that makes spoons so attractive to fish. If you don't take the spinning or twisting action into account, you will end up with a spool of badly twisted line that will not retrieve properly, jump off the spool, and become weaker very quickly. Some spoons have a swivel built in to allow them to rotate without affecting the line. If your spoon is without a swivel, you will have to put one on the spoon, or better yet, rig one on the running line.

As I said, there are two ways to accomplish the task. The easiest way is to add a swivel right to the nose of the spoon. If the spoon does not have a split ring attached, you will have to add one. Go with a size larger than you think you need, it won't affect the action; quite the contrary, the larger size allows the spoon to flutter and drop much more convincingly without the drag of the line right at its nose. Next add the swivel to the split ring and call it done.

The way I prefer to do it is the following. I add a split ring to the nose of the spoon just as we did above. But this time add anywhere from twelve to twenty-four inches of leader to the split ring, and then tie the swivel to the leader. If you use Spiderwire, any of the braided lines, or one of those wacky colored lines, this is the only way to go. Fish can see those lines, especially in clear water and will veer off your lure when they catch sight of the line leading away from it! By the way, I only use the Uniknot for all my knots. That will be another post in the near future.

If you are using a light spoon, like the Clark spoons, you have to add a little weight to the rig in order to cast it, or get some depth to in the retrieve. Just add a torpedo sinker, or even an egg sinker above the swivel. Just a reminder, you do this with the second rigging method. I always add a small bead between the swivel and the sinker to protect the knot from any unnecessary abuse from the sinker.

If you are running into some Bluefish, Spanish Mackerels, or gator Seatrout, you may need to use a wire leader. The same rules apply.  With spoons costing anywhere from $2.99 to $6.99 for the small to medium sizes, it doesn't take many cut offs to make you use a wire leader! Length can be as short as 2" to as long as 12". Try to use the finest wire you can find, and hope for the best! If the bite is hot, it probably won't matter what length the leader is. If the fish are running shy, you may only be able to use a short leader.

Maintaining your fishing spoons.

Like everything else, your fishing gear needs a little maintenance in order to last a good long time. The first thing I do at the end of the fishing day is rinse everything off with fresh water. Rods, reels, and lures get a good washdown and dry before being put up.

Spoons though, get pretty beat up with time. They get dragged across the bottom, banged against rocks, swung into pilings; after a while, they lose their shine. The first thing to try is a good old Brillo pad. That will usually get your nickel colored spoons shiny again, or at least less dull than they were.  Brass lures get the same treatment, but then I finish them with Brasso for that extra shine. Wash them well with dish detergent when you're done, you don't want to leave any soap or polish residue on the lure.

If your lures are pretty bad off, or maybe you found one that is beat up bad, you can refurbish it with some elbow grease. Some fine wet/dry sandpaper and a buffing wheel on your grinder will bring a junker back to like new condition. And as I mentioned before, with the prices as high as they are getting, it doesn't take too many yard sale finds to make it worth your while.

I have a couple of old spoons that I need to refurbish and when I do, we will cover it here.


Best Regards,
Albert A Rasch™
Member:Kandahar Tent Club
Member: Hunting Sportsmen of the United States HSUS (Let 'em sue me.)
The Hunt Continues...

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Scott Croner Albert A Rasch Albert “Afghanus” Rasch Albert A Rasch Scott Croner Nebraska Hunting Scott Croner, Merriam's Turkey Hunting Albert A Rasch Scott Croner Albert A Rasch Albert “Afghanus” Rasch Albert A Rasch Scott Croner Nebraska Hunting Scott Croner Merriam's Turkey Hunting Albert A RaschAlbert A Rasch So, you want to be a contractor. Handfeeding a Baby Mockingbird Clean and Repair your Ruger 10 22 Magazine

Jiggin' for Panfish

© 2010 Albert A Rasch and
The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles
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Greetings from Kandahar!

I was sitting in the command tent, battle rattle on, M4 balanced on my lap, enjoying the 102-degree-in-the-shade-breeze, sucking up the fine Kandaharian dust, all the while thinking about the thousands of things that I would rather be doing than what I was actually doing. Which pretty much amounted to much of nothing. How I wish I was posting something new, I thought to myself, rather than recycling old posts.

As the late-morning heat induced stupor finally took hold of my fevered mind, I somehow got to thinking about fishing, and jigging for bluegills specifically. I think it might have had something to do with the spool of twine, multifiliment, MIL T713E, I was holding in my hand... There you go! I thought, something to write about!

If you stop and think about it, almost everyone got their start fishing for bluegills in some pond, impoundment, or county park lake. I know I spent many an afternoon trying to catch the local sunfish in the lake in Hudson County park.

I especially remember my first trip to Florida as a youngster. My dad bought me a crooked calcutta cane pole, a spool of budget brand monofiliment line (No tournament grade, IFGA sanctioned 10 lb test for Albert!), and some cheap #10 hooks. After rigging the cane pole, I purloined a half loaf of bread, and went to the closest drainage canal. There I proceeded to catch dozens and dozens of bluegill, shellcrackers and pumpkinseeds. I spent four glorious days just catching and releasing bream of all different shapes, colors and sizes. To this day, and it has been at least 35 years, I remember that week as my fishing fantasy come true!

Bread and all sorts of insects like mealworms, beetles, and crickets will just about always catch panfish, but small lures and jigs will also do a heck of a job on them. Any small jigs that imitates insects are a great choice when targeting sunnies; and the smaller the jig is, the better.

Little bitty jigs can be carefully fished at incredibly slow retrieves, retrieves that are not possible with anything larger. You will be using very light lines, so water resistance will be negligible. Not only that, but a tiny jig can get some of those big bream to bite, while the larger offerings are ignored.

Depending on the weight, you can almost make a jig dance in place, or retrieve it in short erratic pulses that will trigger a bite from a hungry sunfish. Jigs tied with maribou seem to breath with the slightest movement of the water; that alone will frequently entice a strike from a bluegill. On those days when they seem extra picky, you may have to add a small piece of worm or grub to the hook. If they're smelling/tasting on the approach to the jig, that will help get you a bite.

(Quick aside: You can buy a container of mealworms, dump them in a large tupperware with some bran cereal, and keep them alive for a long time. They will ultimately pupate, turn into beetles, and breed more mealworms. I ought to write a post on that...)

If you can identify the local bug pickings, try to match the hatch, as they say in the flyfishing circle. Kick a couple of rotten logs over, or scape back a pile of leaves and see whats on the menu. Then pick your jig to match. Then again, if you don't know and can't find out, start with the lightest colors you have, and work your way to the darker spectrum.

Bream sure do like to munch on bugs, and using jigs to coax them to strike is another way to fill a creel, start a child fishing, or just while away a pleasant afternoon by a favorite pond or lake. All you need is some light line, a canepole, and a few small jigs.

(Again, I want to apologise for the dearth of pictures. I have no way to down load them at this time, and flying to Kuwait in order to do it, is out of the question! Thanks!)

Best Regards,
Albert A Rasch
Member Kandahar Tent Club
Member: Hunting Sportsmen of the United States HSUS (Let 'em sue me.)
The Hunt Continues...

Though he spends most of his time writing and keeping the world safe for democracy, Albert was actually a student of biologist. Really. But after a stint as a lab tech performing repetitious and mind-numbing processes that a trained capuchin monkey could do better, he never returned to the field. Rather he became a bartender. As he once said, "Hell, I was feeding mice all sorts of concoctions. At the club I did the same thing; except I got paid a lot better, and the rats where bigger." He has followed the science of QDM for many years, and fancies himself an aficionado. If you have any questions, or just want to get more information reach him via TheRaschOutdoorChronicles(at)MSN(dot)com

Scott Croner Albert A Rasch Albert “Afghanus” Rasch Albert A Rasch Scott Croner Nebraska Hunting Scott Croner, Merriam's Turkey Hunting Albert A Rasch Scott Croner Albert A Rasch Albert “Afghanus” Rasch Albert A Rasch Scott Croner Nebraska Hunting Scott Croner Merriam's Turkey Hunting Albert A RaschAlbert A Rasch So, you want to be a contractor. Handfeeding a Baby Mockingbird Clean and Repair your Ruger 10 22 Magazine

Florida Sportsman Fishing and Boat Show

© By Albert A Rasch

I woke up late.

It’s the daylight savings thing, I hurt my back moving the chicken coop, and overall I felt like crud. (Still do.) So somehow I overslept this Sunday morning, and it was the Florida Sportsman Fishing and Boat Show and now we were all late.

I hurriedly woke the dead up. Blake sleeps in a sepulcher like stupor, which not even a fire alarm pierces. As a matter of fact, the emergency action plan calls for me to get Blake, while Mom gets The Bear. Since this was definitely an emergency, I got a wet paper towel and slapped it on Bubby’s face, while pulling his blankets off. To make a long story short, I managed to get him in the bathroom with only one herniated disc.

About an hour later we were on the road heading for the expo!

I haven’t been to a good expo in quite a while, so when we pulled up I was happy to see the parking lot was full of cars and a bunch of nice boats were lined up at the entry. Inside we found several hundred tables filled with all sorts of inshore and offshore fishing gear, electronics, boating accessories, and apparel. There where many seminars on different facets of fishing, many taught by local guides. We learned how to rig for groupers and Capt. Larry Finch taught us where and how to fish the surf for pompanos. There was a fish filleting display and a knot tying class where we bought a rigging book. Florida fishing is very tide dependant so we attended that class too.

We checked out all the boats, from the Glades Runners which were long narrow beamed runabouts, to large multi-engine offshore kingfish hunters with conning towers and radar. There were even a couple of fiberglass pangas in the mix.

Blake really liked a beautiful 24 foot flats boat by NauticStar Boats, the 2400 NauticBay. Not only is it a flats type boat, but it is designed to run blue water too. I wouldn’t try rough seas with it mind you, but it looks very capable for the occasional offshore foray on calm days. Capt. Al Lewis, (The Boat House at Boater’s World, 4809 Tamiami Trail, Port Charlotte Florida, Tel: 941*235*2628), was willing to throw in a T-Top and the trailer if I would take it home with me. It was all I could do to drag the Mrs. and the two lug nuts away before I was parted from my hard earned money! If you are in the market for a great quality American Made fishing machine that is reasonably priced, see or call Capt. Al. No hard sell, no pressure, just the facts and the guidance of an experience fisherman. If it makes any difference, Cristal and I have decided to purchase one as soon as finances allow. As Cristal said, “It’s an investment in Blake’s education.”

One manufacturer in particular deserves accolades for the way they handle their business: Calusa Trading Company (PO Box 61902 Ft. Myers Florida, 33906 Tel: 1*888*5 CALUSA.) Their table had several examples of their cast nets, from small mesh baitfish nets, to large nets designed to catch eating size fish. Here is another quality Handmade American product. For those of you unfamiliar with a cast net, it is a large circular affair that is thrown by hand. It is non-destructive to underwater habitats, and at one time was what fishermen used to supply mullet for the market. That of course was before commercial fishermen started using seine nets and gill nets to catch everything in the water.

Trevor and Jeff were the two young men teaching the “Zen and the Art of Cast Netting” class. After a quick explanation on centripetal force and the theory of cast nets, they invited us to learn “The Art of the Net.” Blake and Trevor had no trouble. A couple of tries, and Blake’s net spread the full 16 feet and landed, nice and round, on the carpeted throwing area.

Jeff really tried hard to get me to coordinate all the actions properly, but I just had a bit of trouble remembering which sequence of events I was to follow. A couple of Mae Wests, figure eights, and an indecipherable net hieroglyph later, Jeff patiently explained, “You must become one with the net.” To which Trevor added “Feel the force.” I’m no Obi Wan, but after a half dozen more throws I was getting the hang of it and remembering to release the lead line I was holding in my teeth. Good thing I don’t wear dentures. Those two guys were the paragons of patience, and before long I was throwing almost as well as Blake. I was feeling pretty sore in the shoulders by then and was more than happy to hand the nets over when I was done.

Both Jeff and Trevor were fantastic, well mannered, and good natured young men. I am certain that their parents are very proud of them. My family and I certainly enjoyed their company and tutelage, and look forward to meeting them again at the next show.

Overall I was very pleased by the Florida Sportsman Fishing and Boat Show. The show itself was reasonably priced at $8.00 per person, the venue was great, and even the snack bar was well supplied and fairly reasonable. All of the vendors but one, (I don’t want to discuss that one yet until I have done more research.) were very nice, very helpful, and lots of fun. All of the patrons seemed to be having a great time, with all of the seminars and classes filled to capacity. I’ll be looking for the next one in Tampa, when it comes around!

Regards,
Albert A Rasch
The Hunt Continues…

Spanish Mack Attack! Fishing Fort Desoto

© 2008-2011 Albert A Rasch and
The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles™
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Just a little “touch base” with y’all!

As usual we hit the beaches this weekend. Actually we went to the Desoto State Park, right at the mouth of Tampa Bay. Bubby got it going on with the Spanish mackerel and just about slew them. He must have landed a couple dozen! The bite was on and he caught them with white bait (sardines) and on a Sabiki rig that he happened to have in his tackle box.

I took pictures of the first one, but we noticed that their scales and skin are very delicate. Blake actually decided that we wouldn’t handle them anymore and would just grab the hooks with his Gerber pliers and release them that way. (I think I’m doing a good job with him.) We also crushed all the barbs to facilitate the de-hooking operation. They Macks ranged in size from about what you see in the picture to a couple that where twice the size.

The late afternoon was very windy with the wind coming from the north and the current flowing south. Bubby rigged his whitebait with two split shot of about a quarter ounce total. Again he decided the hook size and the weight to use. It was right on the money and put the bait on the Mack’s dinner plate.

He got cut off at least ten times. It was a surprise to both he and I that the mackerel were toothy enough to slice the twenty pound leader we put on after the first few cut offs. We didn’t bring any light weight wire with us, so Bubby put that on his list of things to add to his tackle box.

Everyone needs to take the time to go fishing with their kids. Find out what’s biting, get what you need and get out there with them!

Regards,
Albert A Rasch
The Hunt Continues…

Foray for Flounders

© by Albert A Rasch

“I swear that dolphin winked at me as it flipped that fish around and swallowed it!”

Well, “The Boo” and company went fishing again.

Quite frankly, I was cranky and in a bad mood. I could teach a cape buffalo a thing or two about foul temper. My hip felt like someone had driven a 24 penny spike through it, my ankle was stiff as sun dried raw hide, and carrying the cooler didn’t lighten my spirits much. It was late and I’m not a big fan of doing much of anything once I get home from work, unless it’s my idea, and even then it’s a toss up if I’m going to do it or not. But I had promised to take everyone out, and for better or worse here I was.

The Boo had brought his friend Ethan with him. We are very lucky that Bubby has great taste in friends. Ethan is a model child, well bred, good manners, well spoken, just a pleasure to have around. Even sweeps and cleans around our house while he’s waiting for whatever activity is scheduled next! He loves coming to our home; as y’all know we live on ten acres with horses, ducks, cats and dogs. There’s enough mud and dirt to keep an army of kids occupied. Paintball guns, (Which, believe it or not, I don’t really approve of.) bows and arrows, knives, sharpened sticks, rusty pieces of metal, ropes and all sorts of dangerous stuff, make it a kid’s paradise. At least the majority of the neighborhood kids think so.

Ethan lives in a spacious home in a lovely subdivision, with manicured lawns, a beautiful swimming pool with a Jacuzzi hot tub, and asphalt roads to ride his bicycle on. Even though the homes are twelve feet apart, the neighbors barely know each others; unless it’s to gossip about someone else. Oh, and I almost forgot, there was this really adorable kidnapping last year that put everyone’s nerves so on edge, that you could have snapped them with an overly loud sneeze. (Fortunately it all worked out; the kid managed to escape, and the Mexican Federales decided it was in their best interest to turn the kidnapper over to American authorities.) Its one of those neighborhoods were guns are evil – that is until you need one. Anyway, not to belabor the point, we love Ethan and he loves us.

So here we are, Mom, Dad, The Bear, Blake, and Ethan. The Bear sets up a couple of folding chairs for Mom and I, and I set the cooler between the two. Blake and Ethan start to set up the rods, while I get the bucket ready for them. After the preliminaries I sat my self down, and cracked the cooler open. Things were beginning to look up.

I am very fortunate that Cristal decided to marry me. Inside the cooler were sandwiches made with potato buns, gourmet mustard, real mayonnaise, Muenster cheese, Virginia ham, and prosciutto. A covered bowl had fresh lettuce, spinach, tomato, and avocado slices with a little bit of olive oil sprinkled on it; perfect fixings for a sandwich. Sitting in the ice was my favorite soda pop, Ironbeer, the national soda pop of pre-revolutionary Cuba. I guess things weren’t as bad as I first thought. I took a couple Tylenols and started to relax.

As I have told you before, Bubby throws a real good cast net. I can toss it a half dozen times before my shoulder starts to scream at the abuse. Blake will toss it for hours on end and complain only when I tell him to put it up. After a couple of throws, he had a couple dozen greenies in the bucket. He threw the net one more time and when he brought it up he excitedly called me over. There in his hand was a tiny little flounder! His colors were gemlike; speckles of turquoise and emerald. After a couple of pictures we ran down to the water’s edge and gently released him.

We rigged the ten pound test rigs with a half ounce egg sinker, a small bead, swivel, and a 1/0 hook. On the incoming tide this seems like the proper balance between ease of casting and holding capability. We try different methods of hooking the shiners, through the lips, dorsal front or rear, or ventral rear. Whatever seems to work best with the bite.

Ethan had the first and most exciting bite. He had tossed his greenback out and set the rod down while he ate one of the delicious sandwiches. Moments later his rod had a pretty serious bend in it. Cristal excitedly motioned to Ethan and finally blurted out, “Ethan you have a fish on!” Ethan picked up his rod and started reeling against the drag. Blake coached him immediately. “Hold your rod up! Don’t reel in against the drag! Let the rod do the work!” Who says kids don’t listen to their parents!

Blake was on the rails looking into the dark waters and excitedly called out. “He’s got a shark!” Well I figured I should mosey on down and take a look, so putting my sandwich down, I got up and made my way to the boys. A few steps later I was by their side and looking over the edge but the shark had sounded. At that moment Ethan’s line parted and he stood there, rod in hand and the line twisting in the breeze. Blake let out an, “AAaarghh...”

I thought that Ethan would be disappointed; if he was, he didn’t show it. He and Blake opened the tackle box and were re-rigging the rod.

Bubby had a rod out with a ventrally hooked greenie. After Ethan’s shark though, we had kind of lost track of it. It was the squealing drag that pulled all of our eyes to it. Ethan hollered, “Blake! Your rod!” Bubby was on it quick.

He practiced what he preached. The rod was high and he let the drag do its work. The monofilament was stretched taut and cut through the surface of the water. Before long he brought in a small flounder. Another beautiful specimen with brilliant hues of greens, browns, and blues

After that we caught a couple of lizardfish. Those are some ugly little fish. I’ll have to get you all some pics. They are all mouth, with sharp pointy teeth, and an appetite for fingers. They don’t bite hard, but they are aggressive. And they really put on a good fight for their diminutive size.

There were a few ladyfish in the mix. They’re sleek and strong, a big one will make you swear you have a jack or permit on the line. With runs like a bonefish and leaps like tarpon, they are a great sporty fish to catch. They are inedible, due to a large number of bones, but I have seen them in the market. I suppose the commercial fishermen don’t care what they pull out of the oceans as long as someone buys it. It can be pretty bad sometimes.

We had another fascinating experience at this point. Cristal had reeled in a good sized ladyfish, maybe sixteen inches long. I’m in charge of unhooking all of Mom’s fish so I grabbed it behind the pecs, and gently removed the hook. Mom gave it a good look and as we normally do, I pointed it nose down, and let it go. Mom and I were looking over the rail as the fish dropped, when out of nowhere, a large dolphin breaks the surface two or three feet from where the fish is going to hit. That ladyfish must have noticed too, because as it hit the water it thrust itself across the top of the water in a remarkable leap. It was almost too fast to follow. Somehow though, the dolphin got under it, and before we knew what happened, the ladyfish was in the dolphin’s mouth, neatly held in its toothy grin! We stared in disbelief. I turned to Cristal and said, “Did you see that!” She was as stunned as I. It was awesome. I swear that dolphin winked at me as it flipped that fish around and swallowed it!

There are usually some South East Asian families out on the pier. This evening was no exception. Invariably quiet, they mind their own business, and usually out fish everyone else. I watched them with some interest as they bucketed anything that they reeled in. From ladyfish to large grunts, they all were scaled, gutted and put in a cooler. I’m sure it all ends up in some delicious seafood dish.

As it got later the bite tapered off. We sat around and talked, or watched the skimmer birds do their thing. After a while the jaws started cracking and Mom and I decided it was time to pack up. We did everything in reverse order, and before long the three boys were sprawled over each others in the backseat, dozing off as we drove back home.

All in all it was another great evening with the family. The boys got to catch a few fish, Mom got to do what she does best, and I ended up feeling pretty good after all!

Blake's Fishin' Adventure

© 2009, 2010 Albert A Rasch and
The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles™
$g&m f9bd 45kd q!?5.


Boy did we have a ball!

Blake, Mom, and I, went to the beach yesterday. Jordan (The Bear), had to work, so he was stuck dealing with elderly customers, all of whom suffer from assorted and indescribable ailments, and who have absolutely nothing better to do than to tell him about said ailments in nauseating detail, while he tries to explain complicated electronics to them. (We get all sorts of compliments on him all the time! They just love his patience and attentiveness.) All the while we cavorted in the surf and kicked up the sand.

Casperson Beach near Venice is one of our favorite beaches in Florida. Not only does it have great picnic areas, it also has Native American burial mounds, sharks teeth galore, shells, and to top it all off, great fishing.

We went to our favorite picnic table and set out our usual array of accouterments, while Blake looked for something to start a fire with. We won't use lighter fluid. We're kinda borderline on the matches business, but I haven't made a bow and drill yet, nor do we have a flint an steel set... It didn't take him long to get a good ball of palm fuzz and a handful of twigs. Before Mom and I had the table set, he had the tinder set up and the lump charcoal ready. A quick strike of a match and presto, fire started!

While we waited for the charcoal to ash over, we wandered around the mangrove estuaries to see what was to be seen. Occasionally we find an interesting shell or even a good shark's tooth. A juvenile armadillo made his presence known by rooting around as they do looking for the odd grub or ant in the leaf litter. A few egrets were resting and a couple of squirrels jumped from tree to tree, scolding us for intruding.

We headed back to the picnic area and Blake took the cast iron pot and set it over the fire. Mom popped the cooler open and served us a couple of ice cold IBC Cream Sodas to bolster our spirits, while I opened a can of refried beans, put a half stick of butter in the pot, and took the cooked garlic out of the cooler. (Here's a neat idea: The night before, boil a head of garlic for about twenty minutes. If you make soups regularly you can boil an extra one or two while making the soup. It softens the garlic and takes the bite out of it. When it cools, take the paper off the cloves and put them in a small plastic container or some aluminum foil.) The beans went into the pot along with the garlic. I stirred them occasionally to keep them from burning. In the meantime Mom had pulled the flank steak out of the cooler. We prepared it the previous night and had left it marinating in a large ziploc bag. Olive oil, onion, garlic, salt and pepper, and of course, white wine makes up the marinade.

When the grill got good and hot, I slapped the steak on it and let it sizzle. A couple of flips and a few minutes later the steak was done. Mom produced the cutting board, a sharp knife, and I sliced that beautiful cut of meat across the grain. Tortillas were heated right where the steak was, a little bit of butter rubbed on the warmed flour circle. With refried beans spooned on, steak slivers, and shredded cheese to top it off, no king ever ate better!

With bellies full we picked up our fishing gear and headed to the surf line.

Bubby (as I call Blake) throws a pretty good cast net and managed to catch us a couple of dozen shad. We baited our hooks and cast them out. I hooked a couple of small Jack Crevalles almost immediately. After an hour or so, Blake gets a good hit. Rod bent and drag squealing, he held the rod high and let it do the work. The thrilled look on his face was unforgettable! He had to work that fish a good hundred yards down the beach, and there were a couple of times that I thought he might get spooled. But the drag and good rod handling finally wore that fish down!

When it was all said and done he beached a 21 inch bluefish. I warned Bubby not to put his fingers anywhere near that fish's chompers! Blues have been known to bite people's fingers off.

After the requisite pictures he hit the water again and before long had hooked another fish. This time after a much shorter fight, he brought in an 18 1/2 inch speckled trout!



We all had a great time. There's nothing like watching a boy enjoying the great outdoors, and all it has to offer!

Regards,
Albert A Rasch
The Hunt Continues...