Hurricane Arthur Snook Beat-down (Old School Style)

  Its been a while since we since we have done an official write-up on the page here (since it has all been on Facebook and Instagram on a daily basis) but as we roll into the fabled Atlantic hurricane season, there is no better place to start than a report from the first named storm of the season.

 As usual here at Team Rebl hq, when the bad weather starts rolling in and the normal people go inside to complain about how "crappy" the weather is , that is when we are at our best. We thrive on bad weather, mainly because it keeps everybody else in their home, the fishing is always good, and of course, no sun burn or sweat.

   With the news coming down the pipe about the surprise first named storm of the year springing up just East of our primary location, Arthur had my and my tackles full attention. It was time to head out the day before the heaviest of the wind arrived and do a little surveying to see where it was we were going to strike when the weather turned.

   After bit of driving around and trying to get back in the local loop of what has been going on (as we have been pretty lazy this year aside from some lame bass fishing and pathetic snook) we rolled up onto one of our favorite haunts, only to find some large numbers of unusually large snook lining a very small area.  Almost anybody could have missed the, as the water was brown from all the freshwater dumping, but nonetheless, they were there and it was time to act.

 Myself and Mike immediately started throwing our arsenal at these leviathan Snook,but to our dismay, no followers or takers. Ontop of that they wre acting very strange, rolling backwards and moving with each other in odd patterns, we soon realized tonight wouldnt be our night...

  The next night the heaviest winds we received from Arthur had rolled in from the North, and with 90% chance of rain forecasted, I knew I couldn't sit at home with all this amazing weather keeping idiots in their homes, and the memory of all those massive, odd Snook was still fresh in my mind. At 11 p.m. I called Mike and told him I was headed back to the spot we found the fish, which he relayed his lack of enthusiasm about this plan. But solo or not I had to go back nd at least try for these out of place giants. Upon arrival at the bridge, I noticed that there was even more freshwater than the night before, and for some reason a few football fields of summertime mullet present with flying fish mixed in. Now I was confused, but as soon as I walked up, all I heard coming from the shadow is what sounded like gunshots of Snook feeding on the unfortunate baits getting pushed into the shadow line. I knew instantly it was going to go off on this night, and we probably only had once chance. I called Mike and told him to stop eating chips, get in his truck, and get here ASAP before I even dropped a bait, but again, he was hesitant to leave the confines of his house. So I said screw it, and began fishing.

 I rigged up my trusty 4/0 senator with straight 80lb on it and netted some bait and started dodging traffic on the wet and dangerous road to make my first drift. And it didnt take long until I watched my 10" mullet disappear off the surface and I was in a serious throwdown with straight 80lb and the 4/0 on lockdown on my Barrett Rod terminator unlimited stick. I couldn't see the fish, but it had been beat, and I was the only person within miles that could net it. I tie my bridge net to the railing with one hand and threw it off into the darkness, while trying to keep the fishes head from going under water to let it regain traction. But I couldn't see what I was doing in the darkness. The first pass the net got wrapped all in my line, and I thought I was finished, but after some blind luck, and me standing 6ft off the railing just yanking the rope blindly, I all of a sudden felt some serious weight in the net. I free spooled my reel with one hand and dropped it to  the ground and pulled up, noticing that this fish was much bigger than I had expected. 

 I got the net to the top of the railing, and it took A LOT to pull it up over the high railing, revealing an absolute beast of a Snook. At over 40"long, 12" tall and over 30lbs, this was a night mare scenario. Nobody there to take a picture, and my phone was acting up. Sadly, this is the only picture I could come up with of the behemoth. Just take note of the 4/0 laying on the side of it for size reference....

  I put it back in the net and dropped it back down and watched her swim off with relative ease. So I called Mike again and told him he needed to get his ass to the bridge because it is going off. But in the time it took him to get there, I had already lost one, and hooked and landed the smallest fish of the bite, this fat 38" range girl. Which hit so hard heading up tide it almost took my rod out of my hand, an left me thinking it was a big jack, until I was able to net this one on a solo job as well. And of course, phone  started working on this one (figures)

  Now Mike had finally arrived on scene, and the fish were still chewing. He busted out the spinning rod with a jig and decided to go that route while I was hunting down more bait. And after about 10 cast he was hooked up on one that was kicking his ass up and down the shadow line. But luckily, it gave up before it got into the pilings, and I was able to get some fresh bait in the well while I was in the act netting his 40" class fish.

   Mike said he had enough of the jig thing and decided to get onboard with some 10" mullet live bait man fishing to have a batter chance at getting a few more. And it only took another 15 min or so until I was bowed up again on a big mullet. This might have been the shortest fight in the history of Snook fishing, because as soon as I set the hook, I yanked the fish right out of the water and it it could do was dance helplessly on the surface until Mike was able to fit yet another 40" Snook into the net, and raise her up to Rebel land for a quick photo shoot.

  We lowered her back in, and before the bubbles even settled in the shadow line, we pulled the hooks on two more monster fish, and not long after that Mike was hooked up to his number 2, and ANOTHER 40" Snook.

It was officially ridiculous, and this short bite window of massive fish we stumbled across is something that is pretty rare in this day and age around here. The tide was going slack, and we knew it was over for the night, but we went out with one last bang on slack tide, by me losing a 30 plus pound fish that I sight fished with a jig up on top. Mike and I watched it raise up and suck it off the surface and we almost had strokes, but as soon as I jacked it with everything I had, I pulled her head out of the water and we had a 2oz furry lead missle flying at our heads.

 The final tally for the few hours of fishing the storm surge was 5, with 4 being over 40", one clearing 30lbs, one 38" fish (the runt) and 4 more lost (which still hurts). But if thats all we have to complain about besides a shotty pic of the biggest one, I think I'll take the 5 pigs and lose 4 anytime.

 I had to go home and sleep off the ass kicking I got that night, and wash the stench of mullet and Snook off everything I owned, but Mike decided to take the party to the spillway in the morning while it was still dumping in anticipation of the rain that never came. And though the fishing was slow,  I woke up to a picture of him getting his 3rd fish as well, and what a Snook it was, a monster over 40" on a jig and probably around the 35lb mark, another absolute trophy Snook. Bringing out half night/morning tally to 6, and 5 clearing 40".

  Who knows the next time we will see a bite this good on MONSTER Snook again, in recent years the numbers of Snook on some of our trips have eclipsed 60, but never more than one or MAYBE two clearing the 40" mark, but for a few hours we were able to get a glimpse of how it "use" to be back in the day, but hopefully we can get a few more chances to get on bites like this, its all about connecting the dots, and praying for weather when nobody else wants it...In the end, we can only help whatever the next system is that will be ironically named "Bertha", comes and lays a beat down right on top of us....If we can only be so lucky....

Until next time....

-Team Rebel Out

"Return to the Flat"

  * NOTE- This report is a couple of weeks old, it just hadn't been published due to picture difficulties

 A long endless year of heat here in Florida this year has been more unbearable than ever before, mostly due to the fact that this may be the worst year of fishing I have ever witnessed with my own two eyes. But there has been a couple of bright spots during the course of the seemingly endless purgatory of fishless-ness, and this report is one of our best moments of the year.

   The heat index was hovering around 109 degrees, with the humidity in the air being so thick, it makes even the simplest of tasks a burden this time of year. But even with the scarcness of good angling, and the stiffling heat, Brendon made the phone call to me asking if I would like to join in on a trip to a legendary wade fishing spot of ours, which i graciously accepted.

   We got our gear set and hit the water at around 1 P.M. not knowing what to expect, as many of our trips to this honey hole of ours have left us heart broken, or heading home empty handed throughout the course of the year. But after leaving the spot alone for over a month, and the mullet starting to make their annual migration in the area, it renewed our hope that maybe something would be different on this trip.

   We set up our customary base camp in the normal spot, and began the task of rounding up some mullet to prepare to fish the tide change. Luckily for us, there was mullet swarming the surrounding flats, so it was a nice change of pace, as we have had to fight tooth and nail just to be able to obtain bait this year. After about twenty minutes, we had all the bait we needed for the afternoon, so we began drifting the 12inch mullet down current towards the edge of the now grassy flat.

  Just like the rest of the year, hours went by of standing in the luke warm water, without a bite, or a sign of life to be seen anywhere. Needless to say, morale was low yet again, and it wasn't looking to promising just like all the previous trips to the flat during the year. That was until Brendon began retrieving his mullet and prepare for another drift. Brendons massive mullet was about a foot and a half from where he stood in a little more than ankle deep water, when I looked over toward him to check out what he was up to, when I noticed a large black shadow raising up just a couple of feet away from him at the end of the flat. In a split second, there was a massive eruption just inches from Brendons feet, and his rod was bowed over as far is it could bend, all while he was trying to regain his footing and composure in a frenzied state of panic. Mud was being thrown all over the shallow flat everywhere the fish traveled, and amongst the massive boils I could see shades of green and yellow, indicating it was the fish we had been looking for all season long.

   The battle raged on for a few minutes, before the fish had finally wore itself out enough to be chased down on the flat so it could be landed. I grabbed the fish, while still leaving it submerged, and yelled for brendon to grab his phone to take a picture of the beast he had just beaten in the shallow water, and what a nice fish it was.

   After a couple of quick pictures, Brendon placed the big snook back into the water, and began to walk her down the flat to let her recuperate after the vicious shallow water battle, before she shook once violently and slowly cruise off the flat back to her home in the channel.

  It was nice to see not all hope has been lost for the remainder of the year, and with a little bit of luck, and a much needed boost to our morale, maybe we can end the year of 2011 strong. Great job on a trophy wade fishing Snook Brendon, and hopefully it will be the first of many more to come.

So until next time....Team Rebel Out!

"Winds of Change and A Tale of Two Cities"

 It has been a little while since we have last reported in, stuff has been getting in the way like work and life, but Team Rebel has been strong and we have been prevailing throughout it all. This report is a couple of weeks late but we promise it will be a good one. This report will be highlighting the events that took place during a period of three days, during the time in which Tropical storm Nicole blew up the coastline delivering to us much needed rain, and her winds of change...

It all began with a quick flip to the weather channel, and seeing the projected forecast for the tropical storm that was allegedly going to bring down the apocalypse upon the eastern seaboard of Florida. While most northerners and newbies in the state panic at the very thought of wind, we begin to plan an assault to seize the waters from fresh to salt with very little sleep in our limited window of opportunity when these storms grace us with their presence. Therefore, with a cooler full of energy drinks and a well full of bait, we began our assault by tapping into the always excellent bass fishing that presents itself as water management drains the canals in preparation for the "biblical" rains that are usually projected. With a bribe paid off to a security guard, we hit the super secret shiner hole to load up on some bait, and the 72 hour assault was underway.

 This was going to be much different from any other storm over the past few years though, with the hellacious and relentless rain and wind that this storm presented early throughout its course , this had all the makings of a an excellent window of hardcore angling, one that most people never stick it out in. But this time a voice from a girl from New Jersey rose above the crowd, and she claimed that she was in fact down for the struggle and the difficulty this weather would be presenting. Naturally, a claim like this from a Jersey girl, I was skeptical, but all that would change by the end of the expedition that took us far and wide.

 We began to hit the locations that are bass strongholds during the floods. Before the rain began I was able to raise this beastly little creature on a Bass Assassin.

 But as the rain began to move in, Jersey or "Jessica" took over and started doing some damage of her own on the stick.

We hit a few more spots before sundown which didn't yield the bounty that we were after , only a couple of more small specimens before we hit the showers to re-tool a plan.

I then decided it was time to move eastward in search of the linesiders that were residing beneath the tides of the wash out, and Jessica signed her name into the late night expedition to see what the bridge snook fishing was all about. We arrived on location to find a barren bridge full of mullet pushed in from the rough surf and we had a small window to capitalize. And apparently with all the freshwater being dumped into the raging ocean, mullet weren't the only bait to be found at the bridge......

I dropped the first bait in around the tide switch, to have an instant hit, but upon the hook set the hook doubled back into the 12inch mullet, leaving us with a sense of angst, but hopeful at the same time. The very next bait, another thump was felt almost instantly, only to this time have the uni-uni connection fail, the first time this had ever happened to me, the day/ night was going to well, but I was then "promised" the next bait would yield the culprit, skeptical yet again, I proceeded to drop the bait, and within a minute another thump was felt, and a hook-up finally! After a short fight we put this over slot on the bridge, a quick pic and release and she was off back to her home, after another hour of hitless fishing it was time to rest up for the true assault that was to begin at dawn.

 The next day started exactly how the first one did, a quick bribe and a trip to the shiner hole and back to the pipes in the pouring rain. But today the fish were feeding and the bites were non-stop and instant for 5 hours. Though we didn't get any of the 8lb class fish we usually get, a ton of nice healthy fish and a few 4lbers, almost all of which were tamed by Jessica in the driving rain, spirits and morale were again high and we were now in full fledged assault mode, with around thirty fish being caught during the time period.

 Shortly after the all day bass assault, the rain let up a bit and we headed back to the bridge with Team member Chris and Robert to try to get on some snook and tarpon action from the heights of the bridge span. Within 15minutes of our arrival Robert had already hooked, and landed a tarpon in the 80-90lb class range, no pictures were taken as it was too larger to bring up in the net. Within the next hour the bite began to take off, Chris landed a large over slot fish around 25lbs, which after a pic was safely released as usual.

 After Chris' lunker was released, it was my turn, within 15minutes I was able to get my bait down into the zone and land two nice overslot fish before we had to turn in for the night and prepare for work in the AM.

Running on only energy drinks, I was able to make it through the work-day and to the night, in which we then decided to head up north to the Flagler bridge and do a little bit of shark fishing from atop of the concrete structure. The whole team headed up for some low effort/ high output sharking. We arrived in hopes of putting Jessica on her first bull shark, that we knew were lurking throughout the mullet and bluefish schools that littered the lagoon at night time. After Tyler had landed two small bull sharks around 6ft, Chris' Avet 4/0 wide perched upon a 10ft unlimited Harnell rod with 130lb braid let out a cry from hell, a quick hook set and the rod was handed to Jersey to see if she was really as hardcore as she made herself out to be, she had proven herself through bad weather, and no sleep, all while having a fractured foot in a boot, but she hadn't tangled with the denizen in which we make our career off of, the shark. In the mean-time Robert was messing around with some of the local "Lumpys"

I have to take my hat off to her, she fought this shark on straight braid in the current like a champion, the rod never hit the railing once and after twenty grueling minutes in the raging current, we finally caught a glimpse of her first shark. A stout 6ft bull shark, but the most impressive thing was she handled this fish like a veteran, this was after we learned that she had drug the fish to the bridge in reverse due to the hook placement in the tail of the shark. We clipped the line and the shark swam away like nothing had happened.

All in all, it was a great way to spend three days during a storm while most northerners are hunkered down waiting for the impending doom that the weather channel usually forecasts. But the solitude and bounty was well worth the struggle, and my skepticism cowered away into the shadows like all the fish we had caught and released over the course of these three days, as Jersey held her own tougher than most of the team did. And we hope to see her again in the future in some more of our expeditions, who knows when she will pop up with something amazing. We have learned in the end, that maybe Jersey girls are a lot tougher than we expected, and maybe they are a misunderstood creature that can do more than just fist pump.....we will see

Until next time....

-Team Rebel Out



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!!!!