Bucket List Trip: Gulf Red Snapper

Deep sea fishing is vastly different from your average freshwater fishing excursion. Ask any angler and they will attest to the fact that everyone who loves to fish needs to go deep sea fishing at least once in their lives.

There are many reasons to love offshore fishing on the open ocean. The fish are bigger, they fight much harder and you never know what might be on the end of your line when you begin to reel. The vastness of the ocean can be intimidating and there is also the dreaded possibility of getting seasick, but serious anglers brave the elements because deep sea fishing is the ultimate outdoor adventure.

Offshore fishing is a totally different experience altogether from anything you’ll ever find on a river or lake, and some might prefer to stick to freshwater angling. Regardless of where your favorite fishing location is, one thing is certain: deep sea fishing absolutely must be on each angler’s bucket list.

I recently went on a trip that was one of the best fishing adventures I’ve ever experienced. My close friend and fishing buddy, Frank Tomberlin, and I have organized an annual deep sea fishing trip for the past five years and it’s our goal to continue this yearly tradition as long as we can. We refer to it simply as “the fishing trip.”

This year, we had a group of six guys who were each as excited as the other to be heading out on an offshore adventure. We all hoped that this year would be remembered as one of those great fishing stories we will be proud to tell our grandchildren about many years from now.

We were joined by my brother, Josh, who went on his first deep sea fishing trip a couple years ago. Josh loves fishing more than any other person I know. I joked with him before our trip that year that deep sea fishing would essentially “ruin” him from wanting to do any kind of freshwater trips later on. As luck would have it, he turned out to be the first one to reel in a fish on that trip and, after landing a decent-sized amberjack, he immediately turned to me, smiled and said, “I’m ruined.”

Cole was another member of our party and had been fishing on the ocean several years ago. Opey and Nick were the only two members of the trip who had never experienced offshore fishing. Both were absolutely stoked to be going on their first ever deep sea fishing trip and I was all the more excited just to accompany them on their maiden voyage.

We arrived just before 5:30 a.m. at the harbor in Destin, Florida. It was June 2—the coveted opening day of “Snapper Season” in the Gulf of Mexico.

The boats around the docks were buzzing with anticipation as deckhands rushed back and forth to prepare their vessels and men gathered around, smoked cigarettes and sipped coffee while sharing a few fishing stories before we boarded the boats.

There was a bit of tension amid all the laughs and chatter near the boat. The tickets to the 10-hour trip were sold with no guarantee as to where each angler would be fishing on the boat. Everyone stood on the dock next and patiently waited for permission to board the vessel. Each spot was offered on a “first-come, first-served” basis and some of the fishermen were already eyeing the few highly sought-after spaces near the stern.

One determined angler decided to seize the opportunity to claim his spot before everyone else. He carefully walked around the roped barrier onto the boat as those nearby looked on with disdain at someone willing to blatantly break the rules. The man made his way over to the corner of the boat where the starboard side meets the stern. He began to tie a rag onto the rail in an effort to reserve the space before a calm, but firm voice broke the silence.

“That’s my spot,” said an older, rather rotund gentlemen who was sitting on a cooler adjacent to the boat’s entrance. He sat facing the marina with the boat’s stern directly behind him, patiently waiting for the captain’s signal to come aboard.

“First-come, first-serve, ain’t it,” said the man still attempting to mark the spot with the tattered rag.

The older man’s demeanor indicated that he did not intend to relinquish the space to a newcomer who insisted on unfairly marking the spot, or anyone else within earshot. He stayed seated and turned his head only slightly, his eyes barely looking over his shoulder toward the man.

“That’s my spot. That’s where I fish every day,” he replied more loudly, with his gaze fixed on the hands holding the half-tied rag.

The fellow who had encroached upon the boat and tried to steal the spot slowly untied the rag and sheepishly looked around at other men in the crowd snickering at the short altercation.

 

We soon boarded our boat, the Gulf Breeze, which is owned by Olin Marler Fishing Charters. This would turn out to be one of the most professional fishing charters I’ve ever used and one that I highly recommend to anyone.

The waters off the coast of Destin are teeming with aquatic wildlife and many other species of animals that thrive in one of the most picturesque beaches in the Gulf of Mexico.

We were on what is known as a “party boat” or a “head boat” that is larger than most other sportfishing vessels and can hold dozens of fishermen for one single trip. For anyone looking to try their hand at deep sea fishing, I would recommend seeking out a party boat as it is much cheaper than a private charter and you can choose the length of time you’re out at sea, ranging from a quick five-hour trip to a two-day adventure at sea.

We claimed our seats along the port side and the boat crept away from the dock as the sun began to peek over the horizon. We left the “no-wake zone” and throttled into high-gear out of Destin’s harbor in a long convoy of fishing boats speeding to their chosen destinations in the muggy morning hours.

The salty air was mingled with exhaust fumes from the boat and the occasional cigarette, but the scent of fish soon became more apparent as the deckhands busied themselves at the stern, cutting bait for the day’s trip.

Our group was busy sharing laughs and pointing out the occasional dolphin, sea turtle, or other sight we passed on our way. We were sprayed with a few drops of water as our boat plowed through the swells and charged onward into the morning. Everyone soaked in the beauty of the sunrise shimmering through the clouds and eagerly awaited our arrival at the fishing spots our captain steered toward.

Nervous excitement grew each minute along the two-hour ride as we motored more than 30 miles offshore into the Gulf of Mexico. The high-rise condominiums and other structures that dotted the shoreline soon faded into the glowing horizon and we were completely surrounded by an endless emerald-green and blue desert that stretched as far as the eye could see.

As we drew near to our destination, the deckhands began to rush around the boats, preparing everyone’s’ rods. Bait buckets filled with sliced mackerel hung from every space along the railing, swinging back and forth with the gentle rolling of the sea.

Once the captain slowed down near our fishing spot, the lead deckhand called everyone to the boat’s stern. We all gathered around the two large coolers where the crew had been cutting bait and tying hooks all morning.

The lead deckhand gave a short speech on proper use of the bait and tackle, which would prove to be exceptionally helpful to anyone on their first deep sea fishing trip. He also announced some of the strange customs to which sailors strictly adhere to while at sea.

“If you have any bananas on this boat, throw them overboard right now,” the deckhand sharply insisted a no-nonsense expression. “You may laugh, but bananas are associated with death at sea, and we will not allow anyone to have them on this boat.”

“One other rule we observe is no whistling,” he stated. “You’re liable to whistle up a storm and if the captain hears anyone whistling, he’s likely to come down from his cabin and throw you overboard.”

Before we were dismissed to return to our designated spots, we were given some words of motivation.

“Guys, we are coming a little farther out than we usually do so we can fish some really good, deep water,” he said. “We’re going to be fishing in some water that is much deeper than we usually go to, but we need everyone to keep their lines tight so we don’t get tangled. If we get tangled up too much, we’re going to have to take it back closer to shore, but we want to stay out here as long as we can and fish this deep water.”

We made our way back to our spaces, stumbling to and fro and gripping the railing for balance as the sea effortlessly tossed the massive boat over the small waves.

Everyone baited their hooks with slices of freshly-cut mackerel and prepared to drop their lines into the water. The captain’s solemn voice came over the boat’s loudspeaker with an air of bridled anticipation to be starting another opening day of Snapper Season.

He reiterated what the deckhand had said earlier and his speech was what one might expect from a man who had spent the majority of his life on the open ocean. His last words before we started fishing certainly caught the attention of my brother and I, and was something that we quietly considered to be a good omen.

“Y’all be particular and keep your lines tight,” he stated.

My brother and I looked at one another as we both recalled the old familiar saying that was commonly used by our great-grandfather.

“Be particular” was an old-fashioned way of saying “pay attention and don’t screw up.”

The boat’s motor soon grew quiet as she came to a stop. A short “beep” sounded on the loudspeaker, indicating that it was time for everyone to drop their lines and begin fishing. Splashes could be heard in quick succession around the boat as our heavy sinkers plunged the baited hooks into the water and down below the surface.

Not long after our bait had hit bottom, someone nearby yelled “fish on!”

Fishing in such depths is somewhat grueling compared to freshwater excursions due to the amount one must reel to reign in their catch, and also the fact that many fish can weigh much more than what most anglers are used to catching in lakes and rivers.

I took my Penn Senator reel and soon began to find a “sweet spot” in which I would get more bites than others near me on the boat. Our rods were rigged with two circle hooks and a 22-ounce sinker in what is considered to be a “drop-shot” rig in the bass fishing world.

After dropping my bait in and waiting for what seemed like and eternity for it to reach the bottom, I would wind the slack up just enough to keep the bait off the bottom. I found that more fish would bite my hooks if they were close to the bottom rather than a dozen feet from the ocean floor.

The deckhands instructed those aboard the Gulf Breeze to reel in several feet of line once we reached the bottom to ensure that our lure was suspended above the bottom and visible to any fish swimming down below.

Beginner’s luck was alive and well on our boat that day as both Opey and Nick landed one beautiful grouper each that we were able to keep. We were all continually reeling in fish and relishing the small competition between one another to catch more and bigger fish than our companions.

We soon filled our stringers with plenty of different snapper species. Everyone in our group quickly caught their limit of two red snapper (which is highly sought-after and widely considered to be one of the tastiest fish in the ocean). We also caught more than enough vermilion snapper, also known as beeliners or mingos, as well as white snapper.

Everyone aboard the Gulf Breeze caught a variety of different fish species that day. One of my favorite things about deep sea fishing is the mystery of what you might catch. One minute you could be reeling in a two-pound vermilion snapper and the next minute you might hook into a huge grouper or mackerel.

Fighting saltwater fish is also one of the things considered by anglers to be the most exciting part of deep sea fishing. Many of the fish you’ll catch in the ocean will fight much, much harder than almost anything you will find in freshwater. Lots of anglers aboard our boat that day could be seen wincing in pain and rubbing their arms during the latter half of the trip as their arms had been tested to the limits by dozens of feisty fish.

Our captain would stay in one spot until the deckhands determined that the fish were either not biting well enough, or had mostly ended up in our coolers aboard the Gulf Breeze. A short “beep” would again sound, indicating that it was time to reel in and head to another spot. We all relished the time spent riding to a new fishing spot as there was virtually no gulf breeze—ironically—to be found that day.

Later in the afternoon, we heard the final “beep” sound and the captain announced that we were headed back to shore. However, we were not leaving because our allotted 10 hours was coming to a close, but because every person aboard the boat had caught a limit on red snapper and also a number of other species.

The trip had been a resounding success.

After riding back for a couple of hours to return to Destin’s harbor, we returned to find the docks bustling with jet-skis, yachts, and pontoon boats packed with happy beach-goers. Everyone aboard the board took turns swapping stories about the day’s many catches and talked about how we all planned to return again, very soon.

We reached the marina and were relieved to plant our feet on solid ground once again. A crowd began to assemble around the dock where our deckhands were unloading the huge stringers of fish and hanging them on the pegs at the marina to show off our hard-earned payload.

Children squealed and pointed to the large grouper and mackerel hanging atop the boards while men stood in front of the Gulf Breeze’s stern holding a heavy stringer and sporting smiles as wide as the ocean horizon.

Our group watched as the crew quickly cleaned and bagged our fish in neat filets for us to take home. The trip was a resounding success and was more than enough fun for us to begin discussing when we would return for another round of deep sea fishing next year.

We all agreed that there was no good reason to wait an entire year before our next trip. A consensus was soon reached that we would have to return for another trip before the end of summer.

Take trip yourself and you’ll undoubtedly agree that deep sea fishing is a must-add item on every outdoorsman’s bucket list.

The Golden Rule of Fishing

“When, I wonder, are folks going to learn that it is a dangerous thing to attempt to lay down hard and fast rules about fishing?”

—John Alden Knight

 

I was recently reading through many quotes from very influential and powerful men about the subject of fishing. I read about how some of the most well-known ancient philosophers, rulers, and inventors approached the pastime of fishing.

Here are just a few that I came across:

“If you wish to be happy for eight days, kill your pig and eat it. If you wish to be happy for a lifetime, learn to fish.” —Chinese Proverb

“After all these years, I still feel like I’m a boy when I’m on a stream or lake.” —Jimmy Carter

“Fishing seems to be the favorite form of loafing.” —Ed Howe

“‘Tis not all of fishing to fish.” —Izaak Walton

“If a man fishes hard, what is he going to do easy?” —Roy Blount, Jr.

“Adapt the pace of nature; her secret is patience.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

There is a big difference in fishing as a pastime and fishing as a sport. Fishing as a means of providing food for one’s family or for fun is vastly different than a highly competitive fishing tournament.

I’ve always loved fishing and have been wetting a line from the time I was old enough to hold a rod by myself. I grew up wondering why my grandfather, who was an avid angler, never joined in on the many fishing tournaments that took place on our favorite lakes. In my eyes, he was one of the best anglers in the world and knew where all the great spots were, but I never knew him to participate in a fishing tournament.

One day, I asked him why he didn’t. We were in his boat on Wedowee, a lake that we often ventured to.

“I don’t like for anyone to tell me when I can start, or stop fishing,” he replied, as he continued to cast toward the bank.

I thought his answer was a bit silly, but as I grow older, I feel the exact same way about competitive fishing. It just isn’t something I’m interested in and probably will never be. I enjoy reading and watching other anglers compete in tournaments, but I simply don’t feel inclined to join in on the action.

For me, fishing is rewarding to those who embrace an adventurous spirit. Fishing draws me to feel closer to nature in a spiritual sense and each trip I take, however short or long, is a winning experience. I don’t want to relate my own sense of happiness or accomplishment to another angler’s day on the water.

I think John Alden Knight was on to something when he made the statement at the beginning of this blog post. Competitive fishing creates an undesirable sense of urgency and pressure that many anglers, like myself, are seeking to escape from when we are on the water.

“Jack” Knight (1890-1966) was a banker, but was famous for being an avid angler who helped develop the solunar tables and many fly-fishing lures that are still popular to this day. He was an early proponent of catch and release fishing.

“One nice thing about fishing—you can always put ‘em back,” he said.

Call me old-fashioned, but speeding around the lake in a high-powered bass boat and casting like my life depended on it during the allotted time period to fish simply doesn’t appeal to me. Not to discourage those who wish to compete in fishing tournaments and competitions, of course.

Maybe one day I’ll get into the craze of fishing tournaments, but I’m having plenty of fun playing by my own rules (within the legal parameters), which is the really great thing about fishing.

Maybe the Golden Rule of fishing is that there doesn’t have to be any rules at all.

 

Day 1 in Sailfishing Paradise

The next chapter of my Costa Rica adventure is one of my favorites. After a fun day of inshore fishing and a good night’s rest, we went back to the Marina Pez Vela for more fishing action. The game plan for the day was offshore targeting Mahi Mahi and Pacific Sailfish.

We met our guide at the docks. His name was Junior, and his mate was Pepe. Junior said, “We won’t have to go far. They are only 7 miles out.”

I nodded with anticipation and followed the captain to his boat. Abby and I loaded up and the boat cruised out of the marina. The water was calm and flat for our easy ride out. The air was salty and warm as Pepe rigged the lines for trolling. He did several setups and rigged a couple of outriggers to spread the strike zone out. The bait was dead Ballyhoo hooked to a colorful skirted rig. It looked like sailfish candy to me.

As he dropped the lines out, the boat kept its course through the calm. I took my seat beside Abby and began to watch the lines. After a few minutes, we started a conversation about our trip so far. It wasn’t shortly after we started conversing that one of the trolling poles bent down with a hit.

“Fish on!” Pepe exclaimed. My heart pounded as I saw the fish break surface and danced in a frenzy on its tail. The nose was long and pointed on the fish. Its back had a huge dorsal fin and the color of it was vibrant. I had hooked my first sailfish.

I made my way to the fighting chair and engaged in a battle of wills with the fish. It took more line than I was gaining. Thinking to myself, “I need him to stop running so I can gain more line.” It eventually took a breather and it was my turn to gain on the fishing.

I worked the fish by lifting up on the rod smoothly and quickly reeling down. After gaining 20 yards on the fish, the sail decided to give me another run for my money. The line peeled and squealed from the reel and against the drag. The fish was taking the line but at a cost.

 

I imagine big game fishing as a game of tug of war with your dog. The energy and ferocity of their fight needed to be matched with cunning and timing. The fish stopped and I began my gain of line again.

My hands ached as did my shoulders and arms. The fish finally made it to the boat. And the fight was over. Pepe told me to sit on the corner and get ready. He grabbed the fish and placed him on my lap. Abby, eager to capture the moment, took several photos quickly. Pepe swiftly revived the fish and we released it. 

I went back to my seat and as soon as I got comfortable. The lines hit again. This time it was Abby’s turn. She fought a solid 7 minutes with a Mahi Mahi. She gleamed with joy as the fish was gaffed. It would be dinner for the tonight.

The day continued with a few more Mahi Mahi but no more sailfish. Luckily, we had one more day of fishing to go. For more on my Costa Rican sailfishing, check out here.

Roosterfishing Not Catching

Continuing the next part of my recent adventure to Costa Rica with Abby was my favorite part of it—fishing. Driving four hours from La Fortuna, we reached our next area of the country, the Pacific coast. Specifically, the drive took us to Quepos and the Manuel Antonio region. As we drove in, the climate changed dramatically from the milder and wet rainforest to the hotter and drier coast. The ocean had a breeze but I didn’t see a single drop of rain my six-day stretch there. Luckily, I fished three of those days.

Our first morning, the sun peeked behind the horizon to greet us at 6 in the morning. With a cup of Costa Rican coffee and a protein bar in hand, Abby and I headed down from the Manuel Antonio mountain area to the Marina Pez Vela. The marina looked newer than the other structures around the Quepos area. With a variety shops and restaurants, it looked like a shopping mall. As we made our way down to the dock, we were greeted by our charter’s contact that took us to get our one week $15 dollar fishing license and then to the boat. Captain Burly and Mate Johnny greet us from their slip, and we then hastily took off in their 28 foot center console to catch the bait.

The water was flat as we headed upshore from the marina. Spinning rods were being rigged with Sabiki rigs on our ride out.

Johnny asked, “Want to try?”

I nodded in enthusiasm. We stopped the boat and dropped our rigs down with a slight jig. I landed a couple of sardines on my first drop. Eager to try again, I hooked something bigger. My light spinning rod bowed like a flimsy hickory. “Barra,” mumbled Johnny. I had a barracuda hooked and the next thing all three rods in the water had one hooked. Eventually, the toothy fish cut our lines and we decided to head south.

Passing epic rock cliffs and islands like imagery from a national geographic, we made our way closer to the Manuel Antonio area. We stopped and dropped our sabiki lines in the water. All of us had synchronized bites, and we reeled in 3 to 5 sardines a piece in this new area. After a few drops, we had enough bait to go after our goal of the day and my bucket list fish, the Roosterfish. We positioned ourselves 100 yards from shore and began to troll.

As we trolled, I thought to myself that this was heaven. Fishing, beautiful weather and amazing scenery of dark sand beach. My thoughts were interrupted as the black dorsal fin of a rooster broke the surface of the surf and began to chase our sardines. The fish danced in the water swaying back and forth waiting to strike. And it did.

Abby’s pole began to bend and line was going out. After a countdown of 10 seconds, she closed her bell and began to reel. The fish was hooked. “Way to go Abby,” I shouted. She reeled with all her might but did not see the line losing tension, and the circle hook was thrown. “Circle hooks have a learning curve to newer anglers”, I thought. After the first hook up, we trolled again. And we had another hookup in no time. This time, Abby’s line stayed tight, and she reeled in short time a large needle fish.

After trolling, we tried bottom fishing next near the rocky isles with hopes of landing a larger Roosterfish or even a snook. The catch was a mix bag of snapper, needlefish and spanish mackerel. The elusive Roosterfish had not been seen. We stopped for lunch and chatted about our experience in Costa Rica with the guides. Burly disclosed his trip to the states and Atlanta. He remembered the bad traffic of the city. I laughed.

After lunch, we moved to the other side of the islands. The waves swayed the boat more as we dropped down to 30 feet. After a few drops and moves, my rod began to bend. The captain exclaimed, “You got your big rooster!” As I reeled, the fight felt very familiar to me. The fish dug deeper into sea. My hands began to ache as I saw color. The pattern of skin did not look striped. I knew the pull of the fish after I saw color. It was a reef donkey or AJ. I felt deflated. The fight was fun but my goal of a Roosterfish was not happening.

We dropped one more time, and the bite was on once again. I fought hard this time and after battle of wills, the Jack Carvelle was caught and our time on the water was up. Frustration went through my mind as we headed back. I flew all the way down here and did not meet my goal of catching a Roosterfish. But, I paused and looked around. The waves crashing in the rocks, the exotic flora, and the smell of salt in the air, all, refocused me. Failing here to catch one of my bucket list fish was not all bad after all. The hunt or the chase could continue in my future and it would be great excuse to come back to paradise. Because in the end, it would be called catching not fishing if it was easy. Check out the highlight video of our Quepos Inshore adventure below.

 

 

Pearls of Fishing Wisdom: When the Dogwoods Bloom

The most valuable piece of fishing tackle can’t be purchased at your local bait shop or ordered from an online retailer. It’s something that is freely given to those who seek it and it won’t ever rust or need to be replaced.

I’m talking about the wisdom passed down by old timers to young anglers who share the same enduring passion for fishing. There are plenty of sayings and bits of knowledge that seasoned anglers have accumulated over time and are eager to share it with those willing to listen.

My grandfather always had a saying that he liked to use when winter was tapering off in February and there was a hint of springtime in the air.

“When the dogwoods bloom, the crappie are biting.”

There are some variations of this old saying, but it certainly holds true for fishermen in the South who take to the water every March in search of slabs.

I grew up fishing in R.L. Harris Reservoir, fondly known by the locals as “Wedowee.” My grandfather and my dad had me out on the boat drowning worms as soon as I was old enough to even hold a fishing rod. Each year, I looked forward to spring break at school because I knew that I would spend the majority of that week on Wedowee reeling in crappie.

I remember one spring break when I was about 10 years old and my dad and grandfather took me and my two brothers fishing every single day that week, Monday through Saturday. We never got tired of it.

For anyone wondering when the best time to catch crappie is, they can always refer to the old saying about dogwoods blooming. I’m a
firm believer that the crappie bite is best when the pink dogwoods are in full bloom. This usually happens in mid-March and you can bank on there being an abundance of crappie that start their spawning rituals.

When the daylight hours start to lengthen and the temperatures begin to rise, crappie begin the earliest stages of spawning. Typically, water temperatures of at least 57 degrees will kick off the annual crappie spawn. You can usually find crappie in shallow water less than 10 feet deep, and where you find one, you can always find more—lots more.

For anyone who has experienced a crappie fishing trip at the peak of the spawn, they will attest to there being nothing like it. Anglers can sometimes catch fish on every single cast when they get into a school of crappie.

The main thing to look for is cover. Crappie will hold to cover in huge schools of dozens and dozens of fish. Crappie are creatures of habit and you’ll almost always find them spawning in the same places each year.

I still remember the best spots that my grandfather and I would go to when we were on a mission to catch a mess of crappie. Every now and then, we would catch one weighing in excess of 2 pounds. Those are what crappie anglers fondly refer to as “slabs.”

The best bait to use (in my opinion) is the Road Runner by Blakemore. There are many different sizes and variations of these magical lures, which leaves it up to the fisherman to find the right size, style, and color combination.

Without a doubt, the best time to catch a limit of these tasty fish is when the dogwoods come into bloom. Keep that bit of information in your back pocket and put it to the test. Once you’ve realized that it rings true, be sure to share it with the younger generations.

We will have more articles on crappie fishing in the near future, so stay tuned. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with some of the best fishing quotes I’ve heard.

“For the true angler, fishing produces a deep unspoken joy, bron of longing for that which is quiet and peaceful, and fostered by an inbred love of communing with nature.”
—Thaddeus Norris

“One thing becomes clearer as one gets older and one’s fishing experience increases, and that is the paramount importance of one’s fishing companions.”
—John Ashley-Cooper

“The gods do not deduct from a man’s allotted span the hours spent in fishing.”
—Babylonian Proverb

“All veteran anglers have their tricks of the trade…usually you have to fish a long time to pick them up.”
—Wheeler Johnson

“Unless you have a ritual for getting your tackle box ready, no one with regard you as a serious fisherman.”
—John W. Randolph

“A fish wouldn’t get caught if it kept its mouth shut.”
—Fisherman’s Saying

“There is certainly something in angling that tends to produce a gentleness of spirit and a pure serenity of mind.”
—Washington Irving

Costa Rican Adventure Part 2: Rio Celeste Waterfall

After a long day of guided tours, 14 hours to be exact, Abby and I felt it would be nice to go at our own pace and tour Costa Rica on our own. We loaded up early on the warm Monday morning, and trekked down the rocky dirt road to our next destination, Rio Celeste.

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Driving in a foreign country can be intimidating, I have don it a few times before. The infrastructure in Costa Rica was not as well-maintained like back in the US but all were manageable if one used common sense and patience. For the most part, all the main roads up to the Tenorio Volcano National Park, where the Rio Celeste is located, were decently paved. Driving up to the park, I was bewildered by the livestock of the region. Cows for days and some free ranging without a fence were my roadside scenery. But within an instant, the farms turned to jungle like terra. Driving the curvy roads, the jungle would randomly be broken up by small communities and rivers.

Just 20 mins outside the park, we were driving down the highway. Abby said, “Look!” I slow down as I approached a bridge. My eyes have never seen water with such vibrant colors. Water flowing and babbling under a bridge but it was turquoise blue like someone melted jewelry in to a river. It was our first encounter with the Rio Celeste and it was breathtaking.

We continued our drive from the bridge down a road to the park. The first park felt to me like I was sitting in a massage chair with all the bumpiness, and the second part felt like I was climbing up to Everest in my not so sporty rental. We hit a curve and the blue natural wonder made another appearance. It seemed even more turquoise blue from the first encounter.

As we reached our final hilltop, we saw people excitedly wave us in to a parking lot. Vendors were sprinkled out all along the road. They were selling tour services, boots, ponchos and fruit. Passing the street side salesmen, we paid our way into the park at the front gate and began our journey into the park.

Inside the park, I saw similar vegetation that I saw at the hanging bridge tour. The Dragonblood tree was there with its blood-like sap and huge trunk size. Elephant ears and numerous vines decorated our walkway. Speaking of the walkway, I noticed the trail was nicely paved with no blemishes for the first part. The second part was slightly muddy, rocky and steep, but I have hiked worst in the north Georgia mountains.

The final climb up the hill was greeted with the sound of crashing water. “We were close,” I thought. We approached a stone staircase that had wooden guardrails. We made our descent and utilized those wooden rails. The steps were wet and slippery but, we made it after carefully navigated down to the first opening in the forest. The sight that awaited us was from our long trek was the turquoise waterfall. Words could not describe the beauty of the fall and flowing vibrant pool below it. We paused for a moment to take it in and capture the moment. The sounds and color of the fall were breathtaking. After our brief stop, we finished our climb down to the viewing platform.

The platform was not that crowded but a few people were enjoying the sight of the tranquil natural wonder. A mist from the fall covered us like a light morning dew. I thought to myself this is what heaven must look like, and God in his great power made this as heavenly preview on earth. The locals even say that God dipped his brush into the Rio Celeste to paint the sky. I think they were on to something.

After an hour of enjoying the view and capturing the moment, we doubled back to the front gate. We must have been more observant to nature after the past two days. Abby and I started noticing even more of nature’s beauty. From the brief rain shower that agitated the howler monkey to the slight coloration on the leaves, we gained a stronger respect and admiration of natural wonders that our all around us.

 

For more information on the Tenorio Volcano National Park and the Rio Celeste, check out https://www.costarica.com/attractions/tenorio-volcano-national-park.

Costa Rican Adventure Part 1: Intro and Ecotourism

There is a place in Central America that moves a little slower with a genuinely kind-hearted people. A place when the sun goes down has natural sounds that are unreal and when those sounds are paired with the stars in the clear cool night sky, it transports you to a tranquil state of mine. Yet, this same place has adventure and excitement all over from their lush rainforests to their sunny coast. It is filled with a cornucopia of flora and exotic wildlife that most have never seen in person. This place is Costa Rica.

This is an intro piece to a series of blog postings about my adventure into Costa Rica. Each piece will cover a part of my journey from ecotourism, inshore fishing, offshore fishing and end with tips on how to plan your own Costa Rican adventure. Originally, I wanted just a fishcation trip but as I researched more on this divine place, I found that Costa Rica offered so much more than just angling, an insight that will be shared in this first piece. So, cut up some pineapple, drink some coconut water, and apply your sunscreen as I take you on a journey to the Rich Coast.

The sun peeked over the Platanar volcano as the dew settled on the Jurassic Park-like greenery in front of the villa. Abby, my girlfriend, and I waited on the transportation to our multi-stop tour.

Our guides Minor and Yari pulled up in the passenger van wrapped in the Rainforest Explorers logo, and we eagerly hopped in to drive to our first destination of the Hanging Bridges of Mistico Park.

Driving up a steep mountain and around various sharp curves, we pulled into the park. Yari hopped out of the van and instructed us to carry our rain jackets. She then enthusiastically yelled, “vamonos!” That means “let’s go”  in Spanish. Overlooking the Arenal volcano, the humid park has a 250 hectares with a 2 mile trail with 16 bridges, specifically five hanging bridges. As we hiked through the misty trail, we saw bats, eyelash pit vipers, spider monkeys jumping from tree to tree and lizards. All pointed out and described in detail by our guide, Yari.

Equipped with our rain jackets, the wet climate of the rainforest was no issue to us, but in the background, the howling monkey sounded his agitation whenever a rain shower would pop up. His howls could be heard for miles according to Yari. As we exited the trail and crossed the longest bridge over the green vegetation. We began our next journey to the La Fortuna waterfall.

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The waterfall entrance follows 500 stairs to a viewing and swimming area. The path and steps were numerous but clearly defined. The green vegetation covered the forrest surrounding the staircase. The sounds of zipliners above us as they zoomed over the scenery. As we reached the bottom, the grandeur of the waterfall could be observed from a platform and from the small river below. If you go around the bend of the river, there is a small swimming area with clear water and exotic fish swimming. It is also a more relaxed area than by the pool near the fall. The best way to describe that water is brisk and refreshing. It was like a cold mountain spring in March. The climb up is not as easy as the climb down, but there were multiple stops with benches to rest if needed. When you reach the top, there are dressing rooms, snack stands, and gift shops to visit.

 

 

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Our next stop in our action packed day was lunch. In true Costa Rican or Tico form, we stopped at a family restaurant and enjoyed a traditional Costa Rican castada that was cooked over a wood stove. My plate was filled will salad, black beans, rice and steak.

Accompanied with a local mixed fruit juice and Lizano sauce for flavoring. After the bountiful plate, the meal was concluded with coffee and ice cream. We enjoyed dessert by watching the local birds eat from the feeder just outside the pavilion-style restaurant.

We digested our food as we drove to our a long strenuous hike through a forest trail and up a lava field trail to a lookout platform of Arenal Volcano. The hike required the assistance of wooden sticks and a watchful eye as we bypassed steep hills and irritable ants. Wild birds cawed in the warm humid air as we reached the base of the volcano hike. Yari briefed the group on the history of the volcano with a warning of difficulty of the next hike. Some settled to stay at the base but the majority of us venture on. The trail was riddled with loose lava rock and steep steps. After a short 20-minute hike up a strenuous trail, we reached our lookout spot to view the volcano and lake Arenal. It was truly a humbling moment that we soaked in before the  treacherous descent back to the base of the mountain.

After all our adventures in the day, we had one more stop to complete, the Tabacon hot springs.The hot springs created by the nearby volcanic conditions were amazing. The springs were well deserved, and were a relaxing 102 degree temperature as we enjoyed refreshing beverages. Each pool had a unique design. My favorite was the waterfall pool that rushed hot water over you. It was a soothing experience to end our adventurous day. For more information on Rainforest explorers and the tours they offer check out https://www.rainforestexplorers.com/.

True Wilderness Freedom: Sleeping Under the Stars

“A great many people, and more all the time, live their entire lives without ever once sleeping out under the stars.” —Alan S. Kesselheim

The narrow, winding roads leading into Johns Mountain WMA near Rome, Georgia take you into a little-known trout fishing haven nestled among the rolling, wooded hills. This small northwest Georgia stream is regularly stocked with plenty of rainbow trout that school up in pools, making Johns Creek one of the most sought after fishing spots for trout anglers.

I joined my brother, Josh, and our friend, Heath, for a camping trip to Johns Mountain where we hoped to kick back and relax at camp, then rise early to see how many rainbow trout we could catch the next morning. It was June and the Georgia heat was stifling.

As we neared the creek, we noticed a small campsite that was absolutely perfect. We pulled in and began unloading our gear to set up camp. The smooth, flat ground was situated just a few yards from a steep hill that overlooked Johns Creek. Only a handful of other trucks passed by our secluded campsite that night. We were all excited to finally be on a camping trip—myself included as this was the first time I had gone camping in years.

Camping was a way of life for me and my two brothers growing up in rural Georgia. During the summer months when we were free of having to attend school, we camped literally every night that it wasn’t raining from May until September. Our mother would make us come in early Sunday morning and shower to wash off the smokey smell before we went to church.

My two brothers and I absolutely loved camping. We practically grew up outside and we were blessed to have a father and grandfather that encouraged us to enjoy our time in the great outdoors. We shared everything with each other sitting by the campfire year after year. If I know my brothers well enough, I know they, too, feel right at home sitting next to a campfire listening to the sounds of the night.

Fast forward 20 years later and my brother and I are as excited as we were during our childhood to be setting up camp, building a fire, and getting ready to cook dinner over the open flame.

As our camp began to take shape, Josh and I both noticed that we had left out a key item from our camping gear….the tent poles.

“Oh well, we’ll just sleep under the stars,” said Josh. “It’ll probably be better since it’s going to be 90 degrees tonight anyway.”

We turned our focus to the night’s meal that Heath was busy preparing. I’m quite sure that Heath missed his calling as one of the world’s true culinary geniuses. We enjoyed what I can honestly say was the best meal I’ve ever eaten next to a fire that night. To find out more about that recipe and how to prepare the legendary Heathro’s Hobo Dinners, click here.

We finished our meal and sat around the fire for a bit, trading stories about our own outdoor adventures and trying to quell our excitement for fishing the following morning. When we finally did retire for the night to the spot where our tent would have been placed, we quickly realized that there was just as much heat in the midnight air as there was sitting next to the fire.

At this point, I realized how thankful I was to have forgotten the tent poles. As I lay there on the ground, I heard the creek gently rippling over the rocks nearby. There was a slight breeze blowing and I gazed up through the limbs overhead into the stars above. So many people forget how beautiful and relaxing it is to look up at the night sky before falling asleep.

As a child, my father always mentioned how he and his two brothers “slept under the stars” anytime they went camping. I always wondered why he insisted on letting us know that he often neglected the use of a tent when he camped. I felt like he was simply bragging about being a little tougher than we were (I’ll admit that I always felt more secure within the confines of a thin layer of nylon).

As I grew older, I realized that he was merely encouraging us to take a slightly more rugged route. Not because it was harder, but because it was a great way to truly connect to nature.

Many people wouldn’t dare to camp without the comfort of a tent. After all, there are plenty of critters, bugs, rain, and even the possibility of being a little too close to unwanted guests like bears or coyotes.

After our camping trip to Johns Mountain, I think I’ll be sleeping under the stars much more often when I go camping. Breathing in the fresh mountain air was soothing for me and I became lost staring into the sea of diamond-like stars strewn across the expanse of outer space.

Sleeping under the stars gives one a sense of peaceful connectivity with the natural world. Instead of shutting the out the wilderness by zipping a flap shut, you can really come to appreciate being a part of the wide-open beauty of nature. There is a peculiar sense of belonging to the outdoors that you won’t experience inside a tent.

So, the next time you plan to go camping, check the weather and see if it’s going to be a clear night. Leave the tent at home and sleep under the stars and you’ll realize that there is more freedom out there than you think.

“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity.” —John Muir

Miami Peacock Bass!

It was a warm and humid December morning in Miami. I drove down to the park in my Tacoma, and waited on Captain Hall to pull in. To my surprise, the slim, enthusiastic captain was waiting for me at the boat ramp. He asked, “Are you Heath?” I nodded. “Well, I got some shiners and the Peacocks love them,” he shot back.  I boarded his smaller boat, and the hunt was on for Miami Peacock Bass. 

As we glided through the urban jungle of Miami’s canal system. The green vegetation of a jungle engulfed me as we reached our first stop. The captain smirked and said drop it here. The baitfish on a circle hook swam at its will. The air cooler than the sweltering forecast was damp with the morning dew. The rod began to twitch with a slight bump. Then, the rod bent over with a slam. I closed my bail and the fish was hooked. The line screamed like a torture creature. I reeled with a passion of excited child. The fish was close to the boat, when I laid my eyes on its exotic colors of green, reddish orange and yellow. I landed my first Butterfly Peacock bass of Miami. It wasn’t my last.

We moved constantly through the urban jungle. Stopping at holes, we would cast and hook a peacock. The banks would alternate of vines, backyards and iguanas as swiftly moved through the canals of the metropolis. I hooked at least 10 but none of size as we reached an open lake like area of the canals. The shiner thrown out on a hook bounced in a fury. The rod bent slightly and I reeled to hook up. The Peacock bass fought with a fury of a football safety. It had shoulders in its fight. After a five minute fight, the brightly colored fish was defeated. Watch my adventure in this short video below. For more information on Peacock Bass Fishing, check out http://www.captmarkhall.com/

Peacock Bass Fishing in the Miami Canals from David Heath Yates on Vimeo.

Man Can Holiday Gift Guide for 2018

The holiday season is upon us and that means you’re either looking for the perfect gift for your outdoorsman, or you’re a hunter and angler hoping to provide a subtle hint to friends and family members by sharing this list of the the best outdoor gifts for the 2018 season.

We’ve compiled this list and categorized items by cost, selecting the absolute best gift ideas available this season. Tracking down the ideal gift for your outdoor adventurer can often be tough as most they are highly selective when it comes to their gear.

Don’t worry. We’ll make sure your outdoorsman is just as excited to find their gift under a tree as they will be to carry it with them into a tree, or on the water.

1. Magazine Subscription – This gift idea is often overlooked, but is guaranteed to be something that continues to put a smile on your outdoorsman’s face each month for a year or even two if you want. Most outdoor magazines are surprisingly affordable and make great stocking stuffer ideas. One of our favorites is Game & Fish magazine, which produces state-specific editions for anywhere in the country. The best news? A one-year subscription costs less than $10.

2. Wild Game Cookbook – We at Man Can Outdoors are just as enthusiastic about preparing our catches and kills in a tasty cuisine as we are for the preparation, thrill of the chase and the harvest. Get that special someone on your list a wild game cookbook and they might just invite you over for dinner later on.

Check out some of our Man Can Cook articles and videos and you’ll see that the best way to cap off a successful hunt is to prepare a delicious meal. Hunt, Gather, Cook: Finding the Forgotten Feast by Hank Shaw is a must-have for any outdoorsman’s bookshelf.

3. LifeStraw Personal Water Filter – Having fresh water is essential and can come through as a lifesaver in some situations in the great outdoors. The LifeStraw Personal Water Filter is a sleek, easy-to-use water filtration system that is easily one of the most important items on our list. The LifeStraw removes 99.9999% of waterborne bacteria and even exceeds EPA water filter standards. This item is perfect for the hardcore adventurer or the casual outdoorsman.

4. Goal Zero Solar Charger – Getting to some of the best hunting or fishing spots sometimes requires us to go off the grid. A solar charger is a great way to keep your gadgets charged. From keeping a daily log on your laptop to making sure your phone is charged so you can capture that perfect photo right when you need it, a solar charger is a handy tool for any modern outdoorsman. Goal Zero makes some of the most reliable chargers on the market.

 

5. Gerber Controller Filet Knife – No angler’s arsenal is complete without a proper filet knife. The Gerber Controller is an 8-inch workhorse a workhorse among filet knives. The HydroTread Grip™ helps you keep a hold on things despite slime and wetness while cleaning your catch. The knife’s custom-fit sheath comes with a built-in sharpener that makes it ready to cut at a moment’s notice.

6. Bubba Blade Fishing Pliers – A high-quality set of fishing pliers is invaluable for serious anglers. The Bubba Blade Fishing Pliers features everything you need for safety and control and is able to cut, crimp and pull any and everything. These pliers come with a lanyard and sheath for quick and easy access.

7. The Browning Jackson Carry-On Travel Pack – To the average person, the many nooks and crannies in a quality outdoor backpack might never be utilized, but serious hunters and anglers can visualize just how they will fit every piece of gear inside those compartments. Having a good backpack is essential to moving with speed and efficiency.

Packing everything into a compact, waterproof backpack will keep your gear dry and allow for quick, easy access. The Browning Jackson Carry-On Travel Pack is an ideal choice for any adventurer.

8. Wild River Tackle Tek Frontier Tackle Bag – This compact tackle bag is easy to take anywhere and serves as an angler’s one-stop fishing shop. With a bright, LED light system mounted on the handle, you’ll never have to fumble around with a flashlight in hand while you tie on baits or unhook your catch. With waterproof pockets and plenty of compartment space, this tackle bag is our top choice for the 2018 season.

9. SHIMANO Curado DC – Our list of the best gear items of 2018 would not be complete without the year’s hottest fishing reel, the SHIMANO Curado DC. This reel features the best in anti-backlash technology, Shimano’s new Digital Control braking system which utilizes a microcomputer to monitor spool speed 1,000 times every second. This reel is ideal for anglers of all experience levels and is available at many fishing retail stores and websites.

10. GoPro Hero7 – Capture your catch and harvest with the latest in compact camera technology with professional 4K HD video quality. The GoPro Hero7 is waterproof and voice-controlled, making it easy to use in a variety of outdoor situations. With live-streaming capabilities, this compact camera is perfect for capturing all of your outdoor adventure footage and photos.