Day 1: Worcester to Punta Gorda, part deux
Just like last year, we flew out of Worcester Regional Airport on DirectAir right into Punta Gorda, which is incredible convenient because the airport in Worcester is 20 minutes from home, and the airport in Punta Gorda is maybe 10 minutes from Phil's condo. We landed, gathered our belongings, and hit the closest Publix to stock up on food and beer. We topped the night off with a waterside meal at Harpoon Harry's at the end of Fisherman's Wharf and had a few adult bevvies on the lanai before retiring to bed.
Day 2: Snubbed by Snook
We woke up Friday morning and hit the road, but not after multiple cups of coffee and a light breakfast. We made our way to the beach in Boca Grande and parked in the public lot on 19th Street. We met our guide Dave, of No Motor Fly Fishing, at 9:30 and after a quick debriefing of the daily activities headed to the beach. Dave gave us a run down of how to properly cast from the beach (sidearm), where to place the fly (%!$#@%& impossible), and how to strip the fly in if and when we saw a school of snook as we made our way walking along the surf.
It wasn't long before we saw several schools of snook swimming parallel to the sand, and despite our gifted fly fishing skills and expert instruction we failed to get any action whatsoever. The trick, supposedly, with catching snook from the beach is to stand around 8'-10' back away from the water and cast the fly in a sidearm fashion in front of the school, and then strip the fly in so that the snook are attracted enough to chase the fly. Well, easier said than done. I struggle mightily with casting flies properly, never mind trying to land them in an area the size of a welcome mat. It's safe to assume that I would have caught more fish had I been able to do everything Dave asked of me. Then again, it's safe to assume I could do that if I fly fished more often. Nevertheless, the day was a huge success and I'll tell you why: Here we were, four guys from the Northeast, fly fishing turquoise blue waters from white sand in 90* heat in a tropical location. Fifty fish or zero fish, it was awesome to be fishing in such a beautiful, relaxing locale. That stupid old cliche about a bad day of fishing being better than a good day of work really does ring true.
We called it quits around 3:30 that afternoon and headed back to the condo. A few cold beers down by the pool and we were ready to hit the town. We dined at the Riviera Oyster Bar & Restaurant in Punta Gorda and thoroughly enjoyed it. It's an old school joint featuring an old school Florida menu. What more do you want? Cold drinks and fresh seafood while boats slide by on the canal outside. I loved our selection of restaurants this vacation because when I'm in Florida the only thing I'm interested in eating is local seafood. I can get a hamburger or pork chop or pasta anywhere, but I can't get fresh grouper or mahi mahi in New England. After dinner we continued our wild ways at another waterfront restaurant, Portofino. Finally, after accruing a handsome bar tab (you're welcome, gents), we made our way back the condo to catch some shut eye before we ambushed the snook again the next day.
Day 3: Snubbed by more Snook
After another morning of coffee and breakfast, we headed back to the beach on Boca Grande. We were without our guide Dave this time, as we were fairly certain we knew what we were doing. I must say, we became quite adept at sidearm casting this trip. We saw a fraction of the fish we saw the day before, but just like the day before it was quite enjoyable. We had packed lunches, beautiful weather, and a gorgeous backdrop to our "casting practice," so what was there to complain about? Would we have liked to catch some snook on our fly gear? Sure. I mean, we didn't get totally skunked; I caught a ladyfish, Marc caught a flounder, Ben caught a ladyfish, and Phil caught a skipjack that proceeded to sting him on his big toe. We fished for a few more hours after lunch before calling it a day and heading home. We hit the pool again, and while walking there couldn't help but notice not one, but two large baby tarpon (yes, I'm aware of the oxymoron) swimming and rolling in the saltwater pond on the condo property. Phil and Marc naturally grabbed their gear in an effort to catch one of these behemoths, but in true skunky fashion struck out after 20 or so minutes.
Our last meal of the trip was at Laishley Crab House right on Charlotte Harbor so I could order even more mahi mahi for dinner. We headed back to the condo after dinner to catch game 2 of the Stanley Cup FInals (Bruins vs. Canucks) before hittin' the sack.
Day 4: Punta Gorda back to Worcester
We had an early flight out of Punta Gorda back to Worcester (with a stop in Sanford, FL) and decided to make it interesting after such a lackluster fishing performance. If the plane takes off at 9am, why get there before 8:30am? Useless. Well we got through security with minutes to spare and had an uneventful flight home before going our separate ways. It was a great trip despite not catching a prized snook, but we're already excited about what next year will bring.
Just like last year, we flew out of Worcester Regional Airport on DirectAir right into Punta Gorda, which is incredible convenient because the airport in Worcester is 20 minutes from home, and the airport in Punta Gorda is maybe 10 minutes from Phil's condo. We landed, gathered our belongings, and hit the closest Publix to stock up on food and beer. We topped the night off with a waterside meal at Harpoon Harry's at the end of Fisherman's Wharf and had a few adult bevvies on the lanai before retiring to bed.
Day 2: Snubbed by Snook
We woke up Friday morning and hit the road, but not after multiple cups of coffee and a light breakfast. We made our way to the beach in Boca Grande and parked in the public lot on 19th Street. We met our guide Dave, of No Motor Fly Fishing, at 9:30 and after a quick debriefing of the daily activities headed to the beach. Dave gave us a run down of how to properly cast from the beach (sidearm), where to place the fly (%!$#@%& impossible), and how to strip the fly in if and when we saw a school of snook as we made our way walking along the surf.
It wasn't long before we saw several schools of snook swimming parallel to the sand, and despite our gifted fly fishing skills and expert instruction we failed to get any action whatsoever. The trick, supposedly, with catching snook from the beach is to stand around 8'-10' back away from the water and cast the fly in a sidearm fashion in front of the school, and then strip the fly in so that the snook are attracted enough to chase the fly. Well, easier said than done. I struggle mightily with casting flies properly, never mind trying to land them in an area the size of a welcome mat. It's safe to assume that I would have caught more fish had I been able to do everything Dave asked of me. Then again, it's safe to assume I could do that if I fly fished more often. Nevertheless, the day was a huge success and I'll tell you why: Here we were, four guys from the Northeast, fly fishing turquoise blue waters from white sand in 90* heat in a tropical location. Fifty fish or zero fish, it was awesome to be fishing in such a beautiful, relaxing locale. That stupid old cliche about a bad day of fishing being better than a good day of work really does ring true.
We called it quits around 3:30 that afternoon and headed back to the condo. A few cold beers down by the pool and we were ready to hit the town. We dined at the Riviera Oyster Bar & Restaurant in Punta Gorda and thoroughly enjoyed it. It's an old school joint featuring an old school Florida menu. What more do you want? Cold drinks and fresh seafood while boats slide by on the canal outside. I loved our selection of restaurants this vacation because when I'm in Florida the only thing I'm interested in eating is local seafood. I can get a hamburger or pork chop or pasta anywhere, but I can't get fresh grouper or mahi mahi in New England. After dinner we continued our wild ways at another waterfront restaurant, Portofino. Finally, after accruing a handsome bar tab (you're welcome, gents), we made our way back the condo to catch some shut eye before we ambushed the snook again the next day.
Day 3: Snubbed by more Snook
After another morning of coffee and breakfast, we headed back to the beach on Boca Grande. We were without our guide Dave this time, as we were fairly certain we knew what we were doing. I must say, we became quite adept at sidearm casting this trip. We saw a fraction of the fish we saw the day before, but just like the day before it was quite enjoyable. We had packed lunches, beautiful weather, and a gorgeous backdrop to our "casting practice," so what was there to complain about? Would we have liked to catch some snook on our fly gear? Sure. I mean, we didn't get totally skunked; I caught a ladyfish, Marc caught a flounder, Ben caught a ladyfish, and Phil caught a skipjack that proceeded to sting him on his big toe. We fished for a few more hours after lunch before calling it a day and heading home. We hit the pool again, and while walking there couldn't help but notice not one, but two large baby tarpon (yes, I'm aware of the oxymoron) swimming and rolling in the saltwater pond on the condo property. Phil and Marc naturally grabbed their gear in an effort to catch one of these behemoths, but in true skunky fashion struck out after 20 or so minutes.
Our last meal of the trip was at Laishley Crab House right on Charlotte Harbor so I could order even more mahi mahi for dinner. We headed back to the condo after dinner to catch game 2 of the Stanley Cup FInals (Bruins vs. Canucks) before hittin' the sack.
Day 4: Punta Gorda back to Worcester
We had an early flight out of Punta Gorda back to Worcester (with a stop in Sanford, FL) and decided to make it interesting after such a lackluster fishing performance. If the plane takes off at 9am, why get there before 8:30am? Useless. Well we got through security with minutes to spare and had an uneventful flight home before going our separate ways. It was a great trip despite not catching a prized snook, but we're already excited about what next year will bring.