Bank on Snapper

This grouper beat the snapper to the bait.

You don't catch bait for the challenge. You climb mountains for that. Yet bait catching had become more challenging than it needed to be. Finding pinfish wasn't our problem. They were simply being outhustled to our shrimp-sweetened hair hooks by ravenous, 6- to 9-inch mangrove snappers that bore those bold, black feeding bars over their eyes. Those eyebrows would've made Groucho Marx proud.

 

Between the snapperettes, we finally managed to stash three dozen pinnies in the cooler. While Paul Soul‚ and Richard Kernish rigged rods for snapper, I launched a pinfish steak from the stern to see if any decent mangos were at home.

 

Immediately, my rodtip bounced, telegraphing a steady tap-tap-tap. But I fought the urge to strike back. This is one case where you don't set the hook right away. Between taps--nibbles when I was a kid--my bait and sinker rode right through the grassy carpet as we drifted. Right where they needed to be.

 

Then the nibbles ceased.

 

Chances were the runts made off with the goods.

 

Hopefully, they were run off by that notorious neighborhood bully, Mango Substantio. So I waited. Watched my rodtip intently. And nearly had my rod wrenched from my grasp. I shoved the rod skyward and reeled.

 

Ya gotta get the upper hand from the get-go before a snapper finds the forest.

 

I finally muscled the fish out of the grass and judging from the arc in my stiff 10-pound spinning rod, it was destined for the ice. I swung the 15-incher into the cooler. "Hope they're all like this or better, guys," I said. Most likely, they wouldn't all be. For every chunker in the 16- to 20-inch-plus range you land, you'll catch a dozen 12- to 15-inchers, a bunch just over the legal mark (10 inches), and as many that don't measure up.

 

But by inshore standards, that's far from shabby.

 

We each fished a bait briefly, but were overrun by shorties, so we motored south to where Capt. David Lee, Homestead resident and veteran guide out of Flamingo, had shut down to fish. Florida Bay was so flat that his Carolina Skiff, Fish Buster floated in midair, as did Long Key and Marathon a few miles to the south. They were lone references to an otherwise imperceptible horizon. Lee, anchored up and chumming, motioned to us to idle over.

 

"Havin' a devil of a time catching pinfish--too many little snappers," he shouted. "Water's awfully clear too, so I figured we'd chum 'em from the start rather than drift fish. Nailed a few keepers already, but we're about out of baits."

 

We had enough baits to go around, so Lee invited us to raft up and fish his chumline. As we did, his anglers, Dave Raska and Gordon Stoffer, advised us to wing our baits at least 50 feet behind the stern where the biggest snappers had gathered. Kernish broke out one of his home-brewed, high-octane, rolled oats-and-menhaden oil chum blocks left over from mackerel season. Within minutes, our two-barrel chumline was crankin'. And things got real busy.

 

Beneath the throng of little mangos at the stern, we spotted a few keepers shouldering their way in but it was tough to get baits to them through the gauntlet. Then Raska's rod lurched and he reared back.

 

"Here we go!" he said. "Me too!" Stoffer echoed as he buried his hook. "But this feels heavy for a mango," he added. Paul Soul‚ raised his plug rod sharply, but missed the hookset.

 

"Give 'em time, Paul," Lee advised. "Let the little ones peck it to death till a good one bulldogs 'em away."

 

"Ignore the taps," said Kernish, "and wait for the thunk."

 

That's the technique in a nutshell. You couldn't sum it up any better.

 

Raska's snapper was a 17-incher, a nice fat Florida Bay snapper, but Stoffer's fish turned out to be a legal gag grouper just over 23 inches. Not that anyone was complaining.

 

"Got a mixed crowd, boys!" Lee announced. "Looks like I better get busy and do the Captain thing," he laughed, and began cranking out pinfish steaks at sushi chef pace. A couple of Spanish mackerel streaked through, making off with both steaks and steel, and small sharks arrived and parked.

 

We were all catching snapper, but Raska and Stoffer were on an absolute roll, outfishing us three to one. And catching the biggest ones to boot, fishing the same chumline, just an elbow rub away.

 

This didn't sit well with Kernish. "How heavy a mono leader you guys using?" he asked, sounding just a little bugged.

 

"Thirty- and 40-pound, but it's fluorocarbon," said Lee. "Just might be makin' a difference fishing in this gin."

Just might? Looked like it just plain was.

 

"Got a couple spools in my bag, Richard. Didn't dawn on me that it would be necessary fishing with bait," I said. He quickly swapped his 20-pound mono leader for a piece of fluorocarbon and caught a good one right away. Then another keeper. Pretty convincing stuff. I was retied and back fishing in record time.

 

By the time the bite slowed as the tide bottomed out, Raska and Stoffer limited on snapper, had three or four nice grouper between them, and we were finally bringing up the rear. Lee and his party took off to fish Shark River and we ran north and chummed in slightly deeper water as the tide started in. We filled our snapper limit, caught three more red grouper, a couple trout, a small cobia and a few too many sharks. A pretty productive morning. All within sight of the Overseas Highway.

 

Mangrove snapper aren't choosy about accommodations. As long as they can find something to eat, they'll make camp. Patch reefs, wrecks, docks, bridges, rivers, creeks, and marina basins are all mangrove snapper haunts at one time or another. Of course, you'll find 'em around mangroves. Hence the critter's name. Seems the only place you won't find 'em is where you don't look.

 

Still, you wouldn't expect to find many over the monotonous, nearly featureless manatee grass bottom of Florida Bay stretching from the Everglades National Park boundary at Sprigger Bank to Marathon and beyond. One glance at the bottom and you'd think trout, sure. Pinfish? No doubt. But snapper big enough for the cooler? No way.

 

But out here, what you see

is not necessarily what you get.

 

The only significant features over this vast manatee grass meadow--possibly the most extensive in Florida--are a few shallow banks and numerous white holes, some of which are littered with rocks, sea fans and hopefully, snapper and an occasional grouper. Some days, white holes are gold mines. Some days, they're not. Unless the water is churned from unsettled weather, they're easy to spot, as are fish over the light bottom. You can fish the holes exclusively--moving from one to the next, or cast to the ones you come across while drift fishing. You may have to anchor uptide of a hole and chum, especially if the water is ultra-clear and the snapper are slow to bite.

 

But don't hammer the holes if things aren't panning out. Frequently, the grassy expanses have produced better for me. And don't dismiss stretches where you don't see snapper, or other signs of life. Chances are the fish are hiding in the lush manatee grass carpet.

 

This dense manatee grass meadow provides both cover and a wealth of groceries. On a sunny day when the water's clear, you'll likely spot mangrove snapper moving about under the canopy. When you do, set up a chumline and they'll come out in droves.

 

When things are right, you don't have to chum to catch fish, although it's the best way to tempt the bigger snapper, red and gag grouper and the occasional mutton. During late summer and early fall, however, definitely fish at first light. Under a midday sun, snapper are almost as photosensitive as seatrout.

 

"By late morning," explained Lee, "the fish will hunker down in the grass, particularly when there's little tide or wind."

 

And speaking of wind, although slick calm mornings are great for running, a little chop on the water is best for fishing. "Without a doubt," said Lee, "a chop on the water takes the edge off the biggest, wariest snapper--they become bolder and come in closer to grab the bait."

 

As is the general rule, the peak flow period of a tide is best when chumming. But it's paramount when you drift fish. When there's little breeze, you need the current to set up a decent drift. Besides, that's when fish come out of hiding to feed on whatever flows their way.

 

Lee first drifts to find snapper and once he catches a good one, out comes the anchor, chumbag and a block of blood chum. Glass minnows spice up the menu, but aren't a must. Although a fresh pinfish strip (called a shiner tail, with the tail intact) is effective, he prefers a pinfish steak, simply a headless bait with the dorsal fin cut off and the backbone intact. Lee feels it's more appealing to the bigger snapper and stands up to the constant pecking of small fish. He inserts the hook through the bait laterally just beneath the backbone at the top and claims a higher hookup than with a strip.

 

When chumming, the strength of the current will determine where the biggest fish--and the mother lode in general--will park in your food line. If it's ripping, expect the fish to be farther back near the bottom where the scraps settle. If it's weak, they'll be right at the stern. Normally, I catch my best snapper out beyond the crowds of little ones. Same goes for red grouper and the occasional gag. And let the current dictate the amount of weight necessary to keep your bait near bottom.

 

A wide range of hooks can be used, although a long-shank model will allow you to unhook a small fish more easily for release. Lee likes a No. 3/0 or 4/0 hook, especially when using pinfish steaks. If you're being hounded by small fish, squeeze your barb down just enough to leave a hump. You won't lose many and you won't have to perform surgery on the undersize fish you release.

 

To keep your bait down, splitshots will suffice although Lee prefers a 1/8-ounce free-sliding egg sinker. "Quite possibly," said Lee, "the sinker clicking against the hookeye helps the fish locate the bait."

 

Either spin or plug tackle is suitable, but it needs to be stout enough to get the fish out of the grass. That 7 1/2 or 8-foot 6- or 8-pound spinning outfit you like for bones and reds? Leave it at home. A 6- or 6 1/2-foot 10-pound spin or plug rod is more like it. You'll be amazed how quickly even a modest snapper can get you hung in manatee grass. And with a whippy rod, when that nice grouper comes calling, you'll end up feeling a little foolish.

 

Since many of the white holes contain debris and the bases of the grasses can be encrusted and abrasive, you'd be wise to spool up with 12- or 15-pound mono, and tie on a 2- or 3-foot 20- to 30-pound shock. Is a fluorocarbon leader necessary? After much trial and error, Lee swears by the stuff, particularly when the water's clear. Its low visibility and abrasion resistance lend well to this kind of fishing.

 

"Sometimes the biggest snapper are wary of heavy mono--even with a nice fresh bait. With fluorocarbon, I seem to fool 'em more often," Lee claims.

 

Rig a couple light spinners with either standard hair hooks or a long-shank No. 8 to 12 hook for catching pinfish. Attach a splitshot or two just above your bait--a pinch of fresh shrimp is best--and fish it right over the grass as you drift. Whether you launch from the Keys or at Flamingo, you can catch pinfish on any channel-edge grassflat on the way out or, as I normally do, catch 'em right where you set up to fish.

 

The best snapper grounds begin at the Everglades National Park boundary line just north of Sprigger Bank and encompass Tripod and Bamboo Banks and the manatee grassbeds as far south as the Intracoastal Waterway west to Marathon and beyond. With NOAA chart No. 11452 or Florida Sportsman Fishing Chart No. 702, draw a rectangle by tracing a line from a point just north of Sprigger Bank west-southwest to a point approximately 2 or 3 miles northwest of Bullard Bank, south to the Intracoastal at Bethel Bank, east-northeast to Channel Key Banks, and finally north to your starting point.

 

That's a lot of ground to cover, and yes, it all looks pretty much alike. As a general rule, the shallower waters on and around Tripod Bank are your best bet for a mixed bag of snapper and trout. At times, however, the snapper are small there. Concentrations of bigger snapper and a few grouper tend to gather in the white holes on and around the banks, even those in water as shallow as four to six feet. As you head west, turtlegrass gives way to manatee grass and the bottom drops away to 7 to 12 feet where you'll likely come across bigger snapper and more red and gag grouper.

 

Muddy conditions normally don't occur until winter fronts blow through, but occasional algae blooms can occur. Avoid those areas and fish in off-clear water whenever possible. Keep in mind that crystal-clear water, although fishable, tends to make the snapper a little more wary.

 

The fish have been plentiful all summer, and should stay put until November cold fronts arrive, although some snapper can be caught in these waters through winter, even after Spanish mackerel take center stage.

 

So if you're game for some low-key, relaxing fishing that doesn't require elaborate prepara

tions and tackle, or you simply have a hankering for snapper on the grill, head for Florida Bay. When the bite's hot, there's no better place to take the family and make kids anglers for life. Just remind them to ignore the nibbles and wait for the thunk.

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