On the ride out, sail rock protruded out of the water, catching all the wind but going nowhere.  Our first location was beyond though, and we continued on Free Diver until finding a good weed-line.  After a first day of being spoiled with butterfish I overlooked several on the second day, and targeted more difficult species.  Difficultly is relative for spearfishing as some fish that are easily caught on a rod and reel are much more difficult to spear underwater.  Snapper are like this; wary, careful, and likely to hang out in places that you can’t easily see them.  An extra-long burning breath gave me enough time to get down to my first and a steady arm stayed the shot.  The snapper flitted through paddleweed at the seafloor and briefly passed a bare spot of sand where my eyes could track it.  When it came back around, I was already in place to take a shot.   With several other species crossed off the list, like larger blue maomao and koreru and a decent sized porae, we were off to find more sporting fish.  For us, this meant pelagic visitors to the famed blue water that came in near Hen and Chicks.

My first Snapper (p. Karl Bottema)

Fresh Snapper (p. Karl Bottema)

A rise-up of fish working the surface was dotted by sea-gulls who claimed their own bits of food.  With no reef and a twenty five meter depth, we dropped in on the massive school of trevally.  Amongst the dominating trevally, koreru and kahawai cruised through, with several large enough for a spear on a regular day.  But today was not regular.

Soon after our drop-in, I tried to gauge the new tactics in the deeper water.  Sam put on an ideal demo.  Down he dove, calmly towards the bottom of the school.  The fish swept around him, not as individuals but as living pieces of a greater whole, perfectly encircling him with a predetermined buffer-zone.  He sat just on the edge of visibility and all we could see from the surface or just below was the extension of his arm into the blurry blue and the jolting reverberation of muscle up his arm.  He turned his head upwards and pulled the line with him, making for the surface.  The trevally bolted momentarily, but by the time we had come to see what was on his line, they resumed their casual cruising.  The only interruption was now the massive kingfish that Sam hauled up from the depths, mirroring off sunlight and swimming in an awkward sideways circle.   Hard it fought, but Sam was close enough after a few minutes of tug-of-war to use his knife.  It was our best catch of the trip.  Karl followed suit a bit later, baiting in some kingies with berley.

Sam Bottema’s kingie, the fish of the day (p. Karl Bottema)

My thoughts of taking an over-sized schooling fish were now gone.  I wanted a kingie.  It was my turn to dive down and see what was below the school.  I spat my snorkel, moved slowly, and waited in the water column.  Nothing.  Just to make sure, I gave an extra few seconds as trevally began to move off kilter, something was coming my way.  Only half excited to see what it was considering the amount of struggling fish and blood in the water, my heart beat for excitement rather than fear when a small school of kingfish rolled by.  My arm was ready, I held it steady and struck.  Fish scattered.  I needed air.  I knew I had it on my line and so I made for the surface, taking care to keep clear of the swinging spear line.

First Kingfish (p. Karl Bottema)

The shot was from a distance just on the edge of the gun’s capabilities so one of the Bottemas gave my kingie one more shot to make sure we wouldn’t lose it.  After ending the fight twice in the water, then again on the boat, the fish measured up just beyond the limit.  I was thrilled to have a keeper on my second day, and our kingfish steaks that night made it all the better.  To say it fed eight is guessing on the low side, although, I won’t complain about my extras at the dinner table.

An amazing trip, and a new sport which I never had imagined trying out made for another experience that won’t be forgotten.  To enjoy a new part of New Zealand is always something special, would that I could see every beach, mountain, and stream.

Whatever it is you’re after, hold that breath just a little longer.

-Kendrick

Jake Smith fly fishing for juvenile tarpon in the canals in Satellite Beach, Florida.

Thanks for watching Please like our FB page at http://www.facebook.com/pureoceantv please subscribe to our YouTube- http://www.youtube.com/user/PureOceanTV.  Thanks for your support

Filmed, edited and music by Pure Ocean Productions

Sullivan’s Beach

At one end…

The nearby beaches, separated by a spear-headed peninsula were open to the other parts of the bay and were a popular spot for sailboats and fishing kayaks to spend the day.  On one side, pudding rock poked out of the water at high tide and when the water receded stood as some squat pinnacle at the end of a dried reef.  Stone grey, twisted tree trunks adorned one end, holding up large elongated epiphytes that sat in constant view of the sea. When the tide was out, rock formations that resembled a close-up of elephant hide held on to the sand.  The other beach fled in and out of a small estuary.  A grassy campsite nearby made for a great weekend location and the flat beach provided room for Frisbee and soccer.

Pudding Rock

Free Driver gouged through the calm morning swell the following day, bee-lining out to Little Barrier Island.  Blurry at first, then in focus, it sat raised out of the water like a flatly scalped mountain, trees clinging to the steep cliffs and rough coastline growing from the sea.  Greasing up an open-cell wetsuit was an unexpected way to start the morning, but with scupper tucked neatly away and weight belt secure, I was ready to drop in.  Despite my previous attempts at diving down South, today was different, today I could see.  Small jellies floated in different arrays and shapes and rubbery paddleweed swayed with the swell.  Bright blue mao mao flitted amongst the reef and marblefish cruised in and out of the plant life, disappearing upon pausing.

As a novice, choosing a target can be a bit disconcerting, wondering one minute if something is rare and endangered and then thinking the next that you just let your dinner swim right past your face.  Fortunately, my great hosts were even better divers.  Karl Bottema and his brother, Sam, were top-ten finishers in the New Zealand Nationals and have almost a decade of experience free diving and spearfishing.  I made sure to consult with them about targets.  First up, as is the case with most beginners, was the accurately named butterfish.  A shallow water reef fish, its fins reverberated with the same speed as the edges of the weed-life and its color varied from a deep gold to larger fish that bore dark brown shades.  Learning quickly the advantages to a quiet and effective dive, I took my first fish with a shot that required no need for a knife.  A clean kill, it was amazing what an extended arm and patience can do for a hunter with little experience. Check out the video below-

First butterfish (p. Karl Bottema)

Epiphytes

Our day continued on and butterfish remained my main target, along with a few other species that I couldn’t quite get to.  To my guide’s dismay I let pass a boarfish that almost certainly would have made the dinner plate.  Next time I would know what was out there.  Luckily for me, next time was the next day, and new fish and locations were on the itinerary.

-Kendrick

Part 2 coming soon!

Buy the Fish Florida sailfish license plate and win a chance to fish one-on-one with one of Florida’s elite fishing captains: Mike Holliday, Mark Nichlos and Blair Wiggins,

Anglers for Conservation (AFC), the organization that has conducted dozens of Hook Kids on Fishing programs around Florida for thousands of children and their parents, has teamed up with Fish Florida, the foundation responsible for placing rods and reels in the hands of thousands of kids. Together they’ll be bringing us a once-in-a-life-time opportunity to fish side-by-side with three of Florida’s most elite fishing captains, Mike Holiday, Mark Nichols and Blair Wiggins. For more details go to anglersforconservation.org

A Veteran’s Free Fishing Day is coming to Grills Riverside on March 27th. Located on the west of the Indian River Lagoon, north of Pineda Causeway, Grills in Melbourne, Florida is a perfect site for this event. For more details go to anglersforconservation.org

We will also be conducting Surf Fishing Work Shops in Titusville, Orlando, Palm Coast, Vero Beach and Orlando during March.  We’ll finish up this year’s Surf Fishing Work Shop tour by celebrating with a Florida fish fry at Orlando’s Fish on Fire restaurant. A portion of the proceeds will benefit the Hooks Kids on Fishing programs. For more details go to anglersforconservation.org 

Indian River Lagoon Fishing Forecast

Look for cobia swimming in the vicinity of manta rays, turtles, bait pods, weed lines and flotsam. These delicious pelagic gamesters prefer water temperatures between 68-72 degrees. Sunny days provide best for visibility for sight fishing, and remember, don’t overlook those pesky tripletails; this is a great time of year for both.

If ocean temperatures fall into the high to mid-sixties, expect whiting, pompano, sheepshead and drum activity. The best surf catches generally come during periods of clean water and small swells.

Every day’s a good day to go fishing; here are the best days to fish in March:

1, 2, 5-12, 16-17, 20-30

Captain Rodney Smith

irlcoast@gmail.com

Check out Rodney’s books and products at:

rodneysmithmedia.com                                                                           

rodneysmithmedia.bigcartel.com

Here’s a relaxing video we put together of all our sunrises and sunsets photos from 2012. The music is Blackmill Feat. Veela – Let It Be! Hope you enjoy:) Thanks for watching! For the latest PureOceanTV videos please subscribe to our YouTube channel- http://www.youtube.com/user/PureOceanTV

There will be few giant Indian River Lagoon spotted Gator” seatrout in the future without healthy sea grass.

A couple of weeks ago two anglers wandered into the Lagoon House. Their first words to me were, “What happened to all the sea grass that used to be in the Lagoon? We fished all along these shores from south of Sebastian to north of Melbourne, and the bottom is almost bare. What’s up with that?”

I shook my head, and said, “Let me tell you an ugly little story about beautiful green grass lawns.”

Now, before we go any farther I must confess, I once had a serious infatuation with green grass. No, I’m not referring to the stuff some smoke, but to the kind that people plant in their yards. See, when we first moved from north of Tampa to Florida’s east coast I owned and operated Clean Cut Landscaping and Lawn Maintenance, a business that a partner and I started in Tampa back in 1977. Much of the service we provided to many of our customers living in the Indian River Lagoon’s watershed was geared toward keeping their lawns lush, green and well-manicured. It was this business that gave us the financial ability to start the fishing guide business we began 1990.

What I learned about people and their St. Augustine grass, the primary turf grass of Florida is down right scary:

 · Many people judge themselves and their neighbors by the appearance of their lawn.

 · The vast majority of these people will do anything possible to have flawless green grass lawns.

 · Hardly anyone has the slightest clue how much they are damaging our environment and quality of     life, killing the Indian River Lagoon and impacting other significant estuaries and wildlife by coddling their lawns.

Dead Seagrass on the Lagoon Shore

When I found out, I felt an urgent need to change my ways, and rid our yard of green grass.

See it is the fertilizers, insecticides and herbicides contributing heavily to the demise of our nation’s greatest lagoon system by destroying the prodigious sea grass beds that have made them world famous for good fishing, water fowl and beauty. Sea grass is the foundation and cornerstone of the Indian River, Banana River and Mosquito Lagoons. Without healthy sea grass, the lagoons will not be able to support the plethora of marine mammals, fish, crabs, shrimp, and other critters depending on it for survival.

There was been a disastrous algae bloom in the Indian River Lagoon. I have seen many my lifetime, but nothing like this. There has been an odd pattern of alternating dry and wet spells, and unseasonably warm weather. Heavy rains reduced the salinity of the brackish water and washed an intense concoction of fertilizer, herbicides, and other contaminants (untreated) into the system. An overabundance of nutrients helped algae to thrive to the point of blocking out the sun light and killing the six types of sea grass in the Lagoon.

UF’s Institute of Food and Agriculture Sciences (IFAS) program, with financial backing from the major fertilizer and lawn chemical manufactures, has presented much damaging and misguided information to government agencies in opposition to demands for sensible fertilizing ordinances by knowledgeable concerned citizens. However, this link leads to a decent IFAS article, Sea grass Beds of the Indian River Lagoon.

It is time to “tap out” of this strangle hold. To fix this problem we need to stop coddling this finicky St. Augustine grass. Let’s start changing the way we design our landscapes and treat the environment by making wiser choices about fertilizer use, insecticides and herbicides.

Putting it as simple as possible, the more healthy sea grass beds we have the more fish, crabs, shrimp and other marine species we’ll see coming from our waterways.

Captain Rodney Smith

Check Out Rodney’s Book and Products

Check Out Upcoming Surf Fishing Workshops

View from the Holiday House

Fortunately, my family made the trip down for a tour of the South Island and to share in the new holiday experience.  With no snow or stout frazier fir to fell, we had to find the holiday spirit elsewhere… like the beach!  As different as it was, it was still no surprise that there were no complaints.  We managed to find a great rental house at Tahunanui Beach, just around the corner from a larger town called Nelson.  Set high up on the foothills above the bay, our vantage point gave us views of the beach, the harbor and an airport that kept us level with planes throughout the day.  To the west, across the water, the mountains peeked in and out of the haze and clouds.

Our Christmas tree was traded for a small branch from a pine tree on the hillside that didn’t exactly require a saw, complete with a few ornaments and one round of presents beneath it.  The only snow was flirting with the mountain-tops and the heat grew throughout the long day until sunset around 9:00pm.  Our normal Christmas day meals were switched for a kiwi-style ‘barbie’ (nothing to do with the fruit or girl’s doll) with some lamb, veggies and local beer and wine.  For a Christmas first, Dad and I headed to the river to go after some famous New Zealand Browns but couldn’t manage to get one, at least that day.  To be fair to the spirit of Christmas and my Dad, I have to say that he did make a comeback the day after and reeled in a big beautiful brown well worthy of the trip down!

The South Island is known best for its landscapes, fiords and fishing, but it is no slouch on beaches.  One of the finest bits of sand and salt sits at the top of the south in the Abel Tasman National Park.  Aside from the lucky few who had their houses grandfathered in when the park became official, there is little habitation there and it is only accessible via boat or a coastal hiking track.  With a schedule to stick to, we chose to take a water taxi into a beach named Anchorage.  I will assure you though, it has nothing in common with the city in Alaska, except that the water provides a place for boats to, well, anchor.

Beaches have a tendency to disappear into the heat of the day or continue on further than most of us can walk, but the beaches at Abel Tasman are all self-contained units of an ever-greater whole.  Anchorage is one of the larger beaches, and a walk from end to end can be done in well under an hour.  The young, grainy sand is the color of rich, ripe wheat and large sandstone boulders rest on either end, constantly weathered away by the lapping waves and wind until more crop is cleaved from their shoulders.  A few small caves with initials carved in them leave a record of those who have walked just a little further down the shore.  Just on the edges of the water are ancient giant ferns, spread throughout the park and along the trail amongst other shades of green and chestnut brown.  The park is not old when it comes to political boundaries and official status, but encountering a dinosaur running across the path would not surprise me.  The park has an alien, ancient feel.  The water is on the greener side of turquoise and makes the transition from salt to sand a stark, but effective one.

Another hidden gem

We chose to take our afternoon at a smaller beach about twenty minutes away where no boats or taxis could impose on our seclusion.   A European traveler clad in a much too small bathing suit, however, did not get the memo.  He could only swim near to us for so long, though, and we had a small corner of the park to ourselves.  On the return trip to the boat launch, we noticed the tide had gone out the length of several football fields, but instead of beaching the boat and walking back, the locals had devised a very kiwi-style way of transporting us back to the visitor center: by tractor.

Although big farm tractors are not at all odd down here, seeing six or seven lined up on the beach with a boat trailer was certainly something new.  But, for getting a boat across a bunch of sand, there was no better way!  A good thrust on to the trailer behind the half-submerged tractor and a quick engagement of the clutch pulled us out and across the sandy flats back to solid ground.  Kiwi ingenuity!

I’ll look forward to my wintery holidays next year near the hearth and amongst the pines, but I’ll look back just as fondly on my first Christmas in New Zealand, on the beach.  A smaller tree, a different temperature, but the same family blessed to be together again for the holidays has made it all even better.

However it is you celebrate the holidays, be sure to talk your family into joining!

-Kendrick

 (Taken from Captain Rodney Smith’s newest book Enjoying Life on the Indian River Lagoon Coast)

My oldest son, James, has been getting on me to write a blog entitled “Enjoying Life on the Indian River Lagoon (IRL) Coast.” As much as I write, you’d think it would be an easy task, but at the end of the day, I felt like the task of writing a blog was about as exciting as being flogged with a soft-shell blue crab. Useless!

But then again, James reminded me why I should be communicating more frequently with other folks who also love and cherish the Indian River Lagoon coast. So, to restart my blog I have a question for you. Why do you love the IRL coast in winter? If I get feedback on this question I’ll know some of you out there are reading this blog, and this will help me judge my course, blog-wise, moving into a new year!

Funny what a difference a month can make. It’s been the opposite of what you would typically consider standard conditions; in mid-November water temperatures along the entire Indian River Lagoon coast were in the mid-sixties in the north-central inshore ocean waters, well below normal. It looked like we were in for a long winter, but the weather flipped between Thanksgiving and Christmas and ocean temperatures rose nearly ten degrees.

The mild late fall weather guided thick schools of Atlantic menhaden toward the beaches along the north-central IRL coast. This, along with a steady stream of late season mullet still lingering near ocean inlets, attracted a smorgasbord of gamefish.

Because of the mild weather, tripletail, cobia, king mackerel and shark could be caught not far from where the Atlantic Ocean met the beaches. Tarpon by the hundreds flocked to Sebastian Inlet, snook packed the Ft. Pierce area and flounder and red and black drum roamed the beaches and inlets. Large schools of pompano, pushed south by the early cold and dirty water surged north, creating plenty of happy anglers from Sebastian to Hobe Sound.

(This cobia was caught from under large manta within sight of the beaches outside Sebastian Inlet New Year’s Day)

Yes, December can be a freckled weather month along the Indian River Lagoon coast; tropical one day, winter-like the next. But as I found from going back to my twenty years of journals (link to CME: writing a fishing journal) on the outdoor history of the IRL coast, much of the time the fishing and catching are above par this time of year.

If you’re interested in learning more about what to expect each month of the year along Florida’s IRL coast, check out my book Enjoying Life on the Indian River Lagoon Coast. It touches on a wide range of topics, from shrimping and crabbing, to fishing for snook, tarpon, pompano, spotted seatrout and a large number of ocean pelagics. This book is jam-packed with useful information concerning the IRL coast for every month of the year.

(These stone crab claws were taken from Banana River Lagoon stone crabs by Captain James Smith.)

By the way, James is out stone crabbing right now! See the article he did with Miami Herald’s Outdoor Editor, Sue Cocking.

http://www.miamiherald.com/2012/12/13/3139201/tasty-challenge-catching-stone.html

You can read more about stone crabs and cobia in both Captain Rodney Smith’s books

Visit rodneysmithmedia.bigcartel.com

Visit http://www.anglersforconservation.org/

Nice! December warmth with fun waves . . . slow down, you’re here . . . sweet little princess gets a lobster dinner!

On this day, the boys drove south to a secret reef, offshore from the beach. They will often make the half mile passage in a kayak or simply pull a dive buoy from the beach. This area is not the best place to dive. The current and visibility can be a nuisance and it is hard to shake the feeling that a shark is lurking nearby. It really is a possibility.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BW7UsMVSzlE

Many people who grew up in Satellite Beach don’t care much for beach front condos. At least, not the people who remember what it was like before they appeared to block the warm winter sun in the afternoon. There really was a beach, dunes, mid-level dunes, scrub and the whole hurricane cushion habitat. That’s almost gone. Some of the condo owners get bent out of shape when life-long residents walk over their boardwalk or secure their bikes to one. What does it hurt ? They aren’t in anyone’s way, or causing any real problems. They are just continuing their tradition of walking across the dunes to enjoy their beach. It is your beach, too. The beach and the ocean are shared by everyone. I get a warm, fuzzy feeling at seeing the  bikes chained up in various positions of hasty abandon. I know the waves are good, and the kids are shredding.

If you grow up in Satellite beach, you will be shredding on your new skimboard when the waves are good !

I am proud of Pure Ocean TV.com., their affiliates, and friends. They know their local environment like a part of their body. They are working hard to conserve, preserve and restore habitat. They aspire to live righteously. They want to maintain their lifestyle, and welcome others to share. Also, they know a good logo when they see one (I designed it).  It makes an old crusty surfer happy to be working in any capacity with the vanguard of the future. I enjoyed doing this three shot montage of some nice stills they shot.

Photos by James Smith

Travis Brown of Brown’s Taxidermy in Port Canaveral is a second generation Florida craftsman in the art of modern taxidermy. You can release your fish unharmed and get an exact replica at any size. It is an amazing process that has been taking place over years of mold making, cataloging and storage. Travis is already recognized as a young master of his craft. Visit the Brown’s at the Port . . . here’s a link!

http://www.browntaxidermy.com/

One more thing before I go. Have a safe and happy holiday all year long, and come to visit when you can!