Hurricane Irene - 2011 Expedition Report

 The word "hurricane" strikes fear instantly into most normal peoples hearts, but for other groups of thrill seekers (such as ourselves) bad weather or hurricanes provide endless opportunity's for miscellaneous and rather careless endeavors. And with the monstrosity of a storm which had been dubbed "Irene" passing just offshore of the South Florida coastline, there was no question that we were going to promptly mobilize the Team Rebel unit, and see what trouble we could get into, while most normal people were perched comfortably inside thier homes.

    The trip began as a solo mission after i had woke up to find that all our favorite Bass and Snook holes for bad weather were lacking the current that would normally be sending the freshwater bite into overdrive. So the corporate command decision was made to head toward the Deerfield Fishing pier to see if there was any signs of the impending mutton snapper bite that usually follows these large weather systems. But shortly after I had arrived at the end of the pier, a leviathan of a wave in excess of 20ft came crashing over the Eastern railing, which was enough of a scare for the city to immediately evacuate, and close the pier down. As I was loading the truck up and draw up a new battle plan, Tyler pulled into the lot, fresh off his long road trip back down from Connecticut. We shot the breeze and came up with a new plan, while we marveled at the humongous surf that the outer bands of Irene were creating along the coastline.

   We decided we were going to head over the the Inlet in Boca to see if anything was moving around in the mouth of the turbulant inlet, but were met with many similar sites from our previous location. But that didn't deter crazy Captain Al from doing what he does best.

 Random surfers and old salts watched as others brave the surf, and to wait for their own opportunity to move into the rather thin line-ups just off the beach.

 After we have had our fill of watching mother natures fury batter our coastline, we began to head West in search of a potential late afternoon Freshwater snook bite, but were met with heavy resistance from sporadic but violent rain bands from Irene's outer edge.

 We arrived at the spot late in the afternoon, and the driving rain had stopped just as quickly as it began. But we lacked a crucial piece of the puzzle required for snook fishing, the bait. So we quickly started moving up and down the canal, blanketing the canal with cast nets in search of what proved to be a very scarce bait source. Time was running out on our adventure, with no fish to show for our effort still, but with one throw of the net, two baits emerged from the depths. The first bait was a perfectly sized Mayan ciclid, and the other, well we weren't too sure what it was.

  One thing that has been constant over the years here in South Florida, is that when you fish in freshwater, you never know what you will catch, due to our tropical climate. Also, it always seems that some of the strangest creatures we encounter are during large storms, and one is always more interesting than the rest, thus making this little guy was the mystery creature of Hurricane Irene.

 Upon close inspection, we determined it was a mullet for sure, as it had the rounded head and mouth to compliment the distinct mullet dorsal fin, but the difference was that this mullet was gold and brown in color, with various faded broad, black stripes. After doing a little bit of research, it turns out that this is a species called a "Mountain Mullet". Its primary range is in the Caribbean, mainly Puerto Rico, but has been documented here in the United States before, but in 24 years of fishing here along with many of our friends, nobody has ever saw one. So we decided after a few quick pictures, to release it back into the freshwater canal we found it in.

  After our quick photo session with the "unknown mullet", I took our lone ciclid, and dropped it just a few feet from where I stood and into the flowing water. Within seconds of the bait making its descent, I felt the unmistakable "thump" of a snook at the other end of the line. I came tight with the fish laying just a couple of arms legnths under my feet, and the battle was on. And after a drawn out battle that took me in and out of trees and through a couple of rocks, I was able to put this beautiful freshwater snook on the bank for a couple of quick shots and a safe release.

 This was one of the more disappointing storms for us (fishing wise) but in the end it turned out to be a hell of an adventure anyways. That's the one of the perks about living in Florida, you never know what will you are going to see.

 Until next time.....Team Rebel out!

- Also, to anybody who is expecting a landfall from this monstrosity of a storm, be safe, be prepared, and we here at Team Rebel wish you the best! Goodluck, and see you all on the otherside.

Monster Snook, Team Rebel Style 9/11 Report

With the change of seasons looming in the air, the time is upon us that the mullet make their suicidal migration southward in massive schools down the beach and the intra-costal waterways. Thus meaning it is now the time for football, the time for tarpon, and most of all, a time for snook ravaging baits in every body of water that mullet schools have access too. So naturally, we loaded up the truck and headed north to intercept the largest schools of mullet on the beaches, and see if we couldn't try our luck with some of the beach bound tarpon and sharks. I will spare you the details of this trip, for the fact that we didn't catch a thing. We did encounter some massive mullet schools with dozens of tarpon losing their minds on the outer edges gorging themselves with huge black mullet, never less, they were too far out for us to take a legitimate shot at one from shore. So after cleaning off the stench of failure, we packed the trucks and headed home, but not before the trip got even better, with a massive tire blow out at high speeds on the highway.

Our "Fun Meter" was having an overload after all this wonderful excitement throughout the day and early night, with a big hole left that had not yet been filled with out dreams of tarpon and snook. While barely able to function from over tiredness, Chris convinced me to take a ride over to a couple of bridges with a hot bite during the mullet run. So Tyler, myself, and Chris headed out around 2 a.m. just to take a "Peek" and see what was lurking in the shadows of the concrete links to land.

 We arrived at the first location with no intention of fishing, but shortly after we ventured up onto the bridge span we witnessed a line of black shadows, darker than the shadow line being cast off the bridge from the street lights, with all these shapes prepared to pounce on any foolish little creature that wandered into the dark zone. Tyler couldn't help himself, so he ran back down to the car and grabbed a rod with a Storm lure, and within a matter of seconds he was hooked up on a nice little tarpon (his first if I may add) and pulled her up in the net to remove the hook, so she didn't have any jewlery hanging in her mouth when we lowered her back down in the net for a safe and smooth release.

After Tyler landed that tarpon, all the other ones got spooked and went down low and proceeded to get a case of "the lock jaw". So we pressed on to take a look at the mullet situation at one more bridge before heading home to central air conditioning and comfortable beds after a long day of heat and misery. But when we arrived at the bridge, something seemed oddly awry for this spot, which was very unusual to say the least. We stood around and watched the water closely for a few minutes, until a small school of finger mullet ran into the shadow line and half a dozen explosions lit the poor mullet school up, leaving them with half their family missing. So we went down to the truck and grabbed a couple of rods and the small cast net to see what damage we could do in a few minutes of fishing. I cast netted a few small mullet, one of which Chris took and dropped down into the shadow and immediately hooked into, and landed a 20-30 pound class tarpon, which was safely released without being taken out of the net.

I then was blessed by the bridge gods with a tasty, twelve inch, ladyfish morsel, and quickly tossed the "guarantee" bait into the shadow. Instantly a MASSIVE shape rose up to suck down my ladyfish off the surface, and in a mere split second, the whole ladyfish disappeared into a gigantic boil in the dark underbelly of the bridge and I was now pinned to the railing with the drag set to lockdown on the fifty-pound test line, trying to keep this beast away from the pilings. After a brutal minute or two, I got the fished head out of the water, and as Chris was getting the net the hook came flying back at the bridge after one of the most brutal head shakes I have ever seen come from any fish. As fast as it happened, the giant crept back into its barnacle ridden wood home to vast in the glory of its win. "Oh, Well" I said, "It happens" and proceeded to get another bait and drop it back into the shadow of hell. Before long, My line came tight again and pulled up this nice little guy without meeting any resistance. After a quick snap shot, we lowered it back into the water inside the net, and it was off.

 Around 4:30 a.m., my morale was low along with my eyelids as I was ready to go home before any hint of light broke the horizon offshore, but Chris on the other hand was persistent and wanted to get a snook for the night. After a little teasing, Chris shouts at me from up the bridge "GET THE NET!!" so without hesitation, I bolt down the bridge to assist him in the landing of whatever is on the other end of his line, and to grab a quick snap-shot of whatever the mystery fish may be. After a VERY dicey two-three minute battle, the denizen rears it head on the surface, I was absolutely STUNNED with how big it was, especially for this particular spot. I didn't waste any time throwing the net up current and pulling tight and forcing the fish into the net which it BARELY fit inside of. As I hoisted the beast over the railing, Chris and I were both stunned on how huge this snook really was!

After a couple quick photo op's we lowered the monster back into the water inside of the net, as always, and watched her lumpy and rugged figure slowly but surely make its way back to the bottom to full-fill her destiny as a breeder and mullet destroyer. All in all it was a great way to salvage a bad day and night, not only did we not even intend on fishing these bridges, but we have a great story to tell at the end of the night. We will be back after some more lunkers this week hopefully, so until next time....

Team Rebel Out!!!!

Team Rebel Takes the Block! (NorthEast Shark Report) 7-17/7-18-10

Well it has been a short while since Tyler went back to Yankee land to chase after the cold water fish with the new southern mentality of fishing and metal riding shotgun. But nonetheless, he has had a strong showing up North and will continue to do so until his return to the great South East. Not to be left out of all the fun we are having down south here, teammate Tyler O’Toole embarks on the journey to Block Island for some Shark Slaying action.

This is what Tyler Reported in to Coroprate Command :

“ Our trip started at 4am Friday, July 16, 2010. Destination: Block Island. Loaded up the Regulator with our gear and we were off the dock by 6:30am. Joining me was Eric Christie (a long time friend and fishing partner), and his father. We had an 80mile run North, out to the fishing grounds ahead of us and we couldn’t be more excited being that it was our first shark trip of the season. We couldn’t be blessed with a more beautiful morning. 

 

Water calm as glass made it an easy 2 hour run where we made our first stop in Montauk to pick up some essentials: Chum, Bait, Tackle, Food etc. From there we were off, in route, 30miles off of Block Island where we would set up and begin our drift for the big boys! On our way out we made a quick stop to catch a few fresh Bluefish before we continued on, to the fishing grounds. We reached the fishing grounds around 11:30 in around 190ft of water, water temp 71.4 .We set up our gear and began the long tedious process of chumming, chumming, and more chumming. We set 4 lines out on balloons, 2 surface baits on the outriggers, 1 mid water, and 1 deep water. 2 hours pass and no takers, 1 by one we checked our baits but the weren’t even touched, hm.. well I guess… BANG!! The line pops from the rigger (surface bait) and the fish starts peeling drag, I pick up the rod and slam the lever in gear, bow up, FISH ON!!!! Buddy Eric throws the fighting belt on me and I begin to work the fish in.

20 minutes later we see the first sight of color. Blue Shark, studd in fact around 8ft. Eric takes hold of the leader, slowly leadering the fish in close to the boat as his father takes a few quick shot before its time to cut the wire.

 

Snap leader is cut, safe release, no harm done! High fives all around, Woo Hoos, we are pumped up now! 30minutes later when hear, tick, tick, tick, zzzzzhhhhhhh line peels off the reel once again. Buddy Eric picks up the reel and Fish On!! Blue Shark!! About 6ft, beautiful looking shark!

Later on that day we hooked into 4 more sharks in the 4-7ft range. Finally ending the day with a double header! Both Eric and myself doubled up on 2 Blue Sharks, and boy was that a fun way to end the day!

We ended the day with a nice batch of Blue sharks, unfortunately no other species were caught that day but a fun day none the less. We then headed back to Block Island where we would spend the night and rest up for the next days stripped bass adventure.

  Saturday was a short day for us, waking up around 10am and heading out for a few hours to do some stripped bass fishing, inshore near the Island before heading home. Fished with live eels, both Eric and I caught numerous Bluefish to 14lbs and a bunch of bass to 32lbs.

 

After a great morning of fishing we called it a day. Packed our gear and began the long journey home. Looking back, a few days now writing up this report is was a trip that will never be forgotten and another mark in the books for Team Rebel; tackling the species from the Northeast!”

Until next time.. Team Rebel Out!

Everbody want's in on some of Florida's action!

 A new aspect we will be adding to our site starting today, are specific stories detailing bizzarre and interesting occurances as we travel around the state during our endless pursuit of big-game and our will to spread the word of conservation to all sportsman across the world. And, for our first "happening", do we have a barn-burner for you!

 The right hand man for Team Rebel's operation (Chris Nicklin) decided to take a stroll down the beach a few days ago during the afternoon to try to get on some beach Snook feeding action, but what Chris found last week was not the traget species, in-fact it wasn't a species at all, but a refugee raft that had washed ashore behind what locals reffer to as "Millionaire Mile" on the South Eastern Coast of Florida. The story directly given to me from Chris wasn't the most exciting, he didn't watch the raft come ashore and see a hoard of reugees making a mad dash for the highway, but rather a quiet and somewhat somber discovery. Chris approached the raft to take a couple of pictures and make a few first hand observations before pressing on in his pursuit of the linesider, but from what Chris had said, the materials that made up this craft were somewhat simple and basic, these being styrofoam, Thing galvonized sheet metal, and wood splints of some sort. Chris also noted that the sheet metal had holes poked in it all throughout the craft wherever the metal was present, possibly from being part of an old roof on Haiti or Cuba.

  But the most interesting part of this story is the lack of the Coast-Guard markings on the craft. Usually, when a craft is reported or found, the Coast-Guard will go out to the location of the craft and spray paint it with some sort of neon color, to signifiy that the craft had been found adrift, with or with-out humans inside of it.

  What happened to the builders and occupants of this raft? The truth is we may never know. They may have met a watery fate at sea, or perhaps saw the lights from shore close enough and tried to swim to the U.S.A , maybe they reached land alive, maybe they didn't. But one thing is certain, in the end, you just never know what will happen during your travels in the state of Florida, and thats why we always go back for more.

4th of July report "A Fresh Experience"

On the day of our great nations independance, I decided to go celebrate my freedom in an un-traditional way before the skys began to echo with the concussions from packed gun powder and the streets became obsolete due to clouds of lingering smoke. After sitting around inside all day watching the rest of the "Nation" get drunk to the point they were incoherent by 5 p.m. I tried to rally some of the party folks for the task ahead, and of course nobody was down for the struggle with the 12 hour rainstorms that sat on-top of South Florida all day. So before joining the festivities of the 4th I mobolized to find some bait in search of the ever elusive trophy large mouth bass in the torrential downpour.

I arrived at my bait spot only to find it vacant of the target species after a few throws with the net, but was able to obtain a few large, non- native Mayan Ciclids and decided to head to a little over flow where snook are known to congregate in fresh water during rainstorms.

I arrived about an hour before dark with the rain still flooding the streets and the current was moving strong, this all mixed with the fact that nobody was in sight, all the makings for a good afternoon bite here. I hooked the first bait and threw it up current, on the retrieve I felt that un-mistakeable snook "thump" and came tight to the culprit. After a pretty brutal fight involving a few wrap ups on rocks and tree I was able to pull this freshwater stud out of the honey hole. This is the largest one I have ever pulled out of this particular spot, a little over 40 inches, judging by the size of my size 13 boot.

Fished two more baits to get a little 3lber and then nothing after that, not a bad way to lay into one before the celebration began, all in all, happy I made the decision to go out and brave the storm for a few hours and was able to reap the reward from Floridas legendary canal system.

Until next time...Team Rebel Out!