apexpredator
07-18-2004, 06:51 PM
"Why don't we camp in the Keys this weekend?" A voice called from our kitchen on Thursday last week. Was my mind playing tricks on me? No, it was the voice of that wonderful lady who I chose to spend the rest of my life with.
My wife is truly a very rare breed. After growing up in Miami among the concrete and shopping malls I was under the impression that all of my outdoor quests were destined to remain "boy" hobbies. Maybe it was the city or the repeated looks of disgust I got from ladies who wondered out loud "why would you want to hunt/kill/eat those pretty little animals?"
At the age of 28 my career and an opportunity to see the wild-west took me to the unspoiled state of Idaho. That is where I met my wife and best friend Mandy. I clearly remember our first few months as a couple when on one cold dreary day her voice rang out "Why don't we go to my dad's place and shoot some quail for dinner?” From that day I was sure this relationship had the potential to last a lifetime.
Friday found me trying to tie up the week’s business as early as possible so we could get rolling to our destination, the Lower Keys of Florida. I was ready by 4:30p and as I pulled up to the house Mandy had all of our gear staged for loading. Our preparation was thorough and with the packing complete we were on our way by 6pm.
The plan this weekend was to spend 2 days in a tent and enjoy all the scenery and wildlife the Keys has to offer. We went boat-less deciding to limit our spending and enjoy whatever "fun" our fins could power us to from the waters edge.
I spent many weekends as a kid poking around the rocks and bridge pilings in the Keys. Those experiences gave me the confidence that after a brief explanation of the conditions unique to the bridge spans my wife and I would be ready to enjoy some good spearing. We got there around 7:30pm and the tide was dead calm. There were thousands of silversides in undulating bait balls right underneath us. The current was non existent and visibility was perfect.
I just had to get in for a quick peek at what the morning would hold for us. That quick dive proved to be all I thought it would be. Less that a minute after getting wet I was surrounded by a school of snook. Most of these fish were truly gigantic, not a slot fish in the bunch. I was content to swim among them as I checked for any fish that weren't off limits to our intended method of harvest. I plodded forward completely submerged towards a large boulder with a cavernous opening at the bottom. As I rounded the corner I was eye to eye with a large black grouper. At that brief moment we were both frozen in a staring match. Finally I remembered what I was there for and I attempted to position my gun. The fat black decided that whatever my intentions were he didn't want to be around to figure them out. Three successive grunts and a tail whip took the startled fish to warp speed. As I cursed my bumbling unprepared-ness his even bigger buddy, who I’d failed to see, got the hint and followed in tow. The string of obscenities that bellowed under water was a true literary masterpiece. I could have sworn that the bright pink hue of my audience, a school of parrotfish, was somehow attributed to my aquatic antics. With that episode under my belt and light and visibility quickly fading I decided to get out help set up camp before I succeeded in scaring every fish out of the general vicinity.
Morning came soon and I gathered myself out of our tent. As I incorporated my body and sat in a chair I made a mental note "Next time we do this DO NOT FORGET THE AIR MATRESS!!" I can tell you where every sharp rock is under that 6x6 piece of realty under the bridge. Five minutes later a pair of young guys walked over. They were dressed in jeans and t-shirts. "Been here all night?" they asked. Yeah. Any fish? “Just two mangroves my wife caught line fishing last night.” It was game and fish. They looked through our coolers as we chatted about fish and the yahoos that they come in contact with. They had just nabbed a couple of lobster poachers under the seven-mile and where hunting for any others who needed reminding of the game laws. I wished them luck on their hunt and they in mine and they made tracks.
Mandy and I then gathered our gear, shook off our groggy slumber and got in the water. I calmed my breathing, adjusted my mask and we were hunting. We saw uncountable numbers of fish in the water. School master snapper popped in and out of the rocks as I spied the boulder from the previous afternoon. I readied myself and dove down this time giving myself some room to position my spear. Rounded the corner and there he was, bigger than shit! Giving the fish some room made him comfortable and he seemed more concerned with letting me know this hole was taken than with vacating the premises. Picked my spot and let her fly. Grouper number one was in the bag. I swam 20-30ft in the direction from where we came, sorted out my shooting line, and strung my fish up to the boogie board float I tow with my rig. I readied my gun and continued on the same path. Same as before I rounded the corner and wouldn't you know it his big buddy from yesterday was looking for his playmate. He did seem more concerned than the first one and was starting his retreat. Before he made it 15ft he was on his way to keeping the first one company on the stringer.
I was stoked 10 minutes into a shore-dive in 10-12ft of water and I had my limit of blacks.
The rest of the morning went well and we added some "crack" fish to our bag. I call the smaller ones crack fish since they fill the gaps the big ones leave in the cooler. On the way back to our entry point I also shot a big cuda which bent my shaft with his initial headshake and sizzling run.
The rest of the trip was full of laughs and beautiful scenery. My wife and I dove several more times and spent nearly all of Saturday with our heads under water. We saw an octopus, sea cucumbers, spiny urchins and countless other sea creatures that were new to her. Funny thing is how you start to take these beautiful creatures for granted when they are common to you. I'd have to say that showing them to her was as great, if not better, than seeing them for the first time myself.
As the shadows grew longer and the sunlight faded we packed the car. We will be back!!....Soon!!...we both exclaimed as we headed for home. Happy Hunting!!
My wife is truly a very rare breed. After growing up in Miami among the concrete and shopping malls I was under the impression that all of my outdoor quests were destined to remain "boy" hobbies. Maybe it was the city or the repeated looks of disgust I got from ladies who wondered out loud "why would you want to hunt/kill/eat those pretty little animals?"
At the age of 28 my career and an opportunity to see the wild-west took me to the unspoiled state of Idaho. That is where I met my wife and best friend Mandy. I clearly remember our first few months as a couple when on one cold dreary day her voice rang out "Why don't we go to my dad's place and shoot some quail for dinner?” From that day I was sure this relationship had the potential to last a lifetime.
Friday found me trying to tie up the week’s business as early as possible so we could get rolling to our destination, the Lower Keys of Florida. I was ready by 4:30p and as I pulled up to the house Mandy had all of our gear staged for loading. Our preparation was thorough and with the packing complete we were on our way by 6pm.
The plan this weekend was to spend 2 days in a tent and enjoy all the scenery and wildlife the Keys has to offer. We went boat-less deciding to limit our spending and enjoy whatever "fun" our fins could power us to from the waters edge.
I spent many weekends as a kid poking around the rocks and bridge pilings in the Keys. Those experiences gave me the confidence that after a brief explanation of the conditions unique to the bridge spans my wife and I would be ready to enjoy some good spearing. We got there around 7:30pm and the tide was dead calm. There were thousands of silversides in undulating bait balls right underneath us. The current was non existent and visibility was perfect.
I just had to get in for a quick peek at what the morning would hold for us. That quick dive proved to be all I thought it would be. Less that a minute after getting wet I was surrounded by a school of snook. Most of these fish were truly gigantic, not a slot fish in the bunch. I was content to swim among them as I checked for any fish that weren't off limits to our intended method of harvest. I plodded forward completely submerged towards a large boulder with a cavernous opening at the bottom. As I rounded the corner I was eye to eye with a large black grouper. At that brief moment we were both frozen in a staring match. Finally I remembered what I was there for and I attempted to position my gun. The fat black decided that whatever my intentions were he didn't want to be around to figure them out. Three successive grunts and a tail whip took the startled fish to warp speed. As I cursed my bumbling unprepared-ness his even bigger buddy, who I’d failed to see, got the hint and followed in tow. The string of obscenities that bellowed under water was a true literary masterpiece. I could have sworn that the bright pink hue of my audience, a school of parrotfish, was somehow attributed to my aquatic antics. With that episode under my belt and light and visibility quickly fading I decided to get out help set up camp before I succeeded in scaring every fish out of the general vicinity.
Morning came soon and I gathered myself out of our tent. As I incorporated my body and sat in a chair I made a mental note "Next time we do this DO NOT FORGET THE AIR MATRESS!!" I can tell you where every sharp rock is under that 6x6 piece of realty under the bridge. Five minutes later a pair of young guys walked over. They were dressed in jeans and t-shirts. "Been here all night?" they asked. Yeah. Any fish? “Just two mangroves my wife caught line fishing last night.” It was game and fish. They looked through our coolers as we chatted about fish and the yahoos that they come in contact with. They had just nabbed a couple of lobster poachers under the seven-mile and where hunting for any others who needed reminding of the game laws. I wished them luck on their hunt and they in mine and they made tracks.
Mandy and I then gathered our gear, shook off our groggy slumber and got in the water. I calmed my breathing, adjusted my mask and we were hunting. We saw uncountable numbers of fish in the water. School master snapper popped in and out of the rocks as I spied the boulder from the previous afternoon. I readied myself and dove down this time giving myself some room to position my spear. Rounded the corner and there he was, bigger than shit! Giving the fish some room made him comfortable and he seemed more concerned with letting me know this hole was taken than with vacating the premises. Picked my spot and let her fly. Grouper number one was in the bag. I swam 20-30ft in the direction from where we came, sorted out my shooting line, and strung my fish up to the boogie board float I tow with my rig. I readied my gun and continued on the same path. Same as before I rounded the corner and wouldn't you know it his big buddy from yesterday was looking for his playmate. He did seem more concerned than the first one and was starting his retreat. Before he made it 15ft he was on his way to keeping the first one company on the stringer.
I was stoked 10 minutes into a shore-dive in 10-12ft of water and I had my limit of blacks.
The rest of the morning went well and we added some "crack" fish to our bag. I call the smaller ones crack fish since they fill the gaps the big ones leave in the cooler. On the way back to our entry point I also shot a big cuda which bent my shaft with his initial headshake and sizzling run.
The rest of the trip was full of laughs and beautiful scenery. My wife and I dove several more times and spent nearly all of Saturday with our heads under water. We saw an octopus, sea cucumbers, spiny urchins and countless other sea creatures that were new to her. Funny thing is how you start to take these beautiful creatures for granted when they are common to you. I'd have to say that showing them to her was as great, if not better, than seeing them for the first time myself.
As the shadows grew longer and the sunlight faded we packed the car. We will be back!!....Soon!!...we both exclaimed as we headed for home. Happy Hunting!!