
It all started with a request to the publishers of Coastal Angler magazine. Instead of swinging by fishing supply retailer after fishing supply retailer to gather up enough Coastal Angler magazines to pass around to all the gals at each Nature Coast Lady Angler meeting, Jennifer Saranzak, our local Outreach & Education Specialist for the FWC, put Delores in direct contact with Capt. Mike McNamara, one of the publishers of the magazine and from there, a simple explanation about our small, up-start ladies fishing club piqued his interest.
As soon as Capt. Mike learned of the lady anglers club down here in Crystal River, he immediately e-mailed a flyer with an invitation to participate in the inaugural Big Bend Lady Anglers Inshore Championship sponsored by none other than Coastal Angler Magazine and organized by Capt. Mike himself. Perfect Timing! Not only did he throw the group an invitation to join the competition, he was also generous enough to cover the cost of their over-night stay for those two days for any of the club members who chose to make the three-hour drive to St. Marks (just south of Tallahassee, FL). The problem was, however, that the girls didn't learn about the tournament until two weeks prior to Mother's Day weekend and there wasn't much time to spread the word and get commitments from the ladies. Unfortunately, most of the gals had already made plans for that weekend so that eliminated much of the club members from taking part. The only exceptions were Delores and Fern who's children are already grown and gone and not living within visiting distance so they happened to be the only two ladies that took Capt. Mike up on his invitation. The thought that was bouncing around in the back of their minds was the possibility that because the tournament was on Mother's Day weekend, maybe most women who would have normally played along on any other given weekend would opt out of this tournament because of family obligations, thereby reducing the number of contestants which, in turn, would increase their odds of placing in a better position than they normally would have given the fact that they would be kayak fishing in unfamiliar territory. They were willing and eager to take that chance, though. It sounded like so much fun and so the RSVP was sent back to Capt. Mike that Delores and Fern would be accepting the challenge on behalf of the Nature Coast Lady Anglers. We would be Coastal Angler Magazine's Southern Big Bend Ambassadors. Preparations were made over the next couple of weeks.

Over-night bags packed: check / digital cameras: check / rods rigged & ready to fish: check / tackle boxes: check / bait buckets: check / kayaks loaded: check. By 10:00 am, Delores and Fern were on their way. A lot of small talk and a little sight-seeing was done along the back roads of Florida (Hwy 19 to Hwy 98) and a quick stop at the Subway in Perry, Fl. to grab a bite to eat. They were really in no hurry.

Fern and Delores finally pulled under the shaded canopy at The Inn at Wildwood, their designated destination, courtesy of Capt. Mike, and Coastal Angler Magazine. Their first impression was a good one. Adam, the desk clerk, welcomed them as they walked inside and answered all of their seemingly endless questions, making sure that they had a room that would allow them to have a full view of their vehicle and kayaks in the nearby parking lot. The girls completed the necessary paperwork, stretched out their hands to accept their room key cards, and were extremely anxious to check out their assigned room. Once their bags were carried up, unpacked and clothes and gear were organized in the room, they headed back downstairs to have a little chat with Adam before he clocked out of his shift. They picked up a few eye-catching brochures for St. Marks Outfitters and T-n-T Hide-A-Way and then interrogated Adam about the location of a local lighthouse said to be, by Capt. Mike, the best kayak launch site he could recommend.

On the check-in counter at the front desk was a colorful 11x20 "Points-of Interest" tear-off pad distributed by the Wakulla County Tourist Development Council. Adam gave the girls directions to the lighthouse which is when they discovered that it would be a 23 mile drive from the hotel. The travel time was a disappointment but they had to check it out before the tournament began the following morning so they got back in the truck and headed to St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge and Lighthouse. From the hotel, it was 13 miles back east on Highway 98 and then a right on Highway 267 (Lighthouse Road) for another 10 miles, in addition to a $5.00 entrance fee (which was unexpected because we didn't do enough research on the area, but well worth it.)

Delores and Fern conducted a through reconaissance mission. They considered launching their kayaks on the estuary side of the lighthouse where the water was calm and tranquil compared to the Gulf side where it was choppy due to the 5-10 mph wind but they quickly cancelled those plans when they climbed the two story look-out tower nearby and discovered that the estuary water they had targeted was merely one large circle. They couldn't identify any point at which that body of water actually led out into the Gulf, although it looked that way from land. The scouting continued.

Fern was the first to find a hidden trail leading down to the gulf shoreline. There were no markers or signs identifying it as a kayak launch site but it was clear that it was used for that purpose. So they found their launch site, gave one another a high-five, and spent the next fifteen minutes planning their attack on what they viewed as potential hot-spots; grass-lined shoreline, inshore rock piles, and in the distance, the remnants of a fishing pier that had probably been destroyed by a hurricane many years ago. The opportunities were endless.

They were relieved that the first of two obstacles had been tackled which was finding and scoping out a definitive launch site. Now the girls focused on obstacle #2 - finding a bait shop. They both had contingency plans just in case there would be none close by. A few packs of 3 inch Gulp Bait in New Penny and Pearl White with chartreuse tail would have to suffice if need be. The possibility of this plan having to go into effect weighed on their minds during the drive to the lighthouse so they made a point to keep an eye open for a bait shop along the side of the road while they traveled the 23 miles it took for them to reach their destination. The problem was, however, that neither of the ladies spotted one during that entire drive. It was quite a shock, to be honest. 23 miles of coastal highway and not one bait shop in site. They discussed the only option they had left- drive back west toward the hotel and keep on driving west in the opposite direction, past the hotel. Hopefully one would pop up somewhere along the way.

They drove west on Highway 98 approximately three miles past the hotel and Fern pointed her finger to the side of a plain brown aluminum building with LIVE BAIT SHOP written in bold red text. YES!!! AT LAST!!! Dust from the limestone parking lot billowed behind the truck tires as Delores pulled off from the highway without much warning. The women breathed a big sigh of relief.

It was a stroke of luck that Fern caught sight of the side of that building when she did because they would have driven right past it if they had to rely on the main entrance to grab their attention. It looked to be the size of a ball park concession stand; non-descript and very easy to miss for non-locals. The opposite side of the building was blocked by another business entirely so had they been traveling west to east, they would never have seen it at all.

It was about 4:30 pm by the time Delores and Fern stepped inside the 'aromatic' bait shop . They introduced themselves to the man behind the counter who, in turn, introduced himself as Capt. Frazier. The girls explained to the Capt. where they were from, why they were in town, and why they were so happy to have found a bait shop so close to their hotel. Capt. Frazier welcomed them with the typical southern style and began to point out on a wall map alternate kayak launch sites that might prove to be more productive than where we had initially agreed on. Delores quickly scratched a few street names down on a piece of paper. (Purify Creek / Skipper Bay Rd. / Levy Bay Rd. / Wakullah Beach Rd.) They had approximately two hours to check out the new sites before heading to the mandatory captain's meeting which was back in the general direction of the lighthouse road they had just came from. There was no time to waste.
Delores typed in "Purify Bay Rd" into her GPS unit and headed back east on Hwy 98. Within five minutes they were traveling down a old bumpy dirt road. Ten minutes later they were still on the same dirt road but had become concerned about their safety being so far off the beaten path. They turned around before reaching the end of the road and made their way back to the highway. Next on the list was "Skipper Bay Rd." This time it was back on Hwy 98 heading west, past the bait shop. They saw Skipper Bay Rd. on the GPS unit and spent the next half hour driving past it several times because there was no street sign identifying it. Finally Delores pulled over on the side of the road and asked a couple of local folks chatting outside a BBQ stand for directions. "Go back east about a mile and a half. You'll see a huge oak tree on the right side of the road. Right next to that big oak tree is a dirt road, that's Skipper Bay Rd., you can't miss it." Time was ticking on and they turned around yet again and after another five minues of driving, they saw the landmark oak tree and the unidentified dirt road leading into the woods. Although the ladies were a little aprehensive, they continued driving, thankful that they were riding in a truck with good traction tires. They made it to the end where there was just enough room for the truck to make a complete circle to turn around. They climbed out and took a quick look at their surroundings. They were not impressed. Again, it was a remote location and safety was their first concern. Then their eyes focused on the swarm of mosquitoes the size of spiders. They didnt bite or attack, but instead they hovered in stationary positions all around. It was quite earie. It didn't take them long to eliminate Skipper Bay Rd. as a launch site. Time had passed too quickly. Delores tapped on the dashboard clock and suggested to Fern that they head back to the hotel. They had to be at the captain's meeting at 7:00 p.m. and weren't even sure how far away it was or how long it would take them to get there. Unfortunately there would be no time to explore Levy Bay Rd. or Wakulla Beach Rd. They went back to the hotel command center to regroup.

Fern and Delores made it back to the hotel by 6:00 p.m. That gave them enough time to freshen-up and be at the Captain's Meeting at the Riverside Cafe by 7:00. They had put a lot of miles on that truck since 10:00 a.m. but they were only half way done. Back on Hwy 98 toward the lighthouse once again but this time a right hand turn on, what else?, Riverside Drive.

Fern and Delores strolled out onto the umbrella covered deck and patiently stood in line behind a few other women waiting their turn to register for the tournament. Captain Mike McNamara was behind the railing collecting registration money and giving, in return, a one gallon Ziploc bag that held the rules and regulations, a self-adhesive measuring device with a Sea Tow logo on it, and a formal score card. They found a couple of empty chairs nearby, sat down with their Coors Light beverages and began to read as the rest of the line worked it's way to the the Capt.

Without a word, Fern reached across to Delores' rule sheet as it lay on the table. She put her finger about half way down the rules page and watched Delores's reaction as she focused on the print Fern had pointed to. There in black and white was a sentence that neither of them imagined would be included in the two page regulations paperwork:
Male boaters are welcome to net and help photo and release fish. NOT CATCH...
Delores looked at Fern with a blank stare. That little piece of information would have been good to know a week ago. They had taken the tournament title "Big Bend Lady Anglers Inshore Championship" in a literal sense and assumed it would be a "no-guys-allowed" style competition. But there they sat, two women from out of town, not familiar in any way, shape, or form with the local waters, restricted only to where they could paddle their kayaks and being soley responsible for launching, paddling, rigging, catching, netting, photographing and releasing without any assistance from anyone... competing against local women, many of which had significant others who not only owned their own motor craft, but knew the local waters like the back of their hands and could assist them with most of the tournament tasks. In a phrase - "they were screwed!!!" After Capt. Mike addressed the 20-25 participants and clarified the rules just as the girls had feared, Fern lodged a discreet and subtle protest with the Capt. explaining that had they known in advance that their husbands were able to help them, they would have asked them to come along. Capt. Mike genuinely and sincerely apologized and explained to the two women that the tournament was designed more for fun than strict competition and he didn't want any woman to be left out because they weren't experienced anglers. That sentiment was completely understood and appreciated by both Fern and Delores. One thing was clear, they may not place in the tournament given the new rule information, but they sure were going to have fun trying to beat the locals at their own game. The drive back to the hotel was spent talking strategy.

4:30 a.m. and the big morning began:
coffee
shower
another cup of coffee
got dressed
more coffee
packed misc. gear
They arrived at the bait shop at 5:30 (opening time) and gave Capt. Frazier and update on their plans. Both ladies purchased a bucket of 50 live shrimp. That should be adequate for the day. From there they drove the 23 mile trip back to the lighthouse launch site with one pit stop at a local convenience store for a packaged lunch and a few snacks to tie them over during the day. Let the games begin...
coffee
shower
another cup of coffee
got dressed
more coffee
packed misc. gear
They arrived at the bait shop at 5:30 (opening time) and gave Capt. Frazier and update on their plans. Both ladies purchased a bucket of 50 live shrimp. That should be adequate for the day. From there they drove the 23 mile trip back to the lighthouse launch site with one pit stop at a local convenience store for a packaged lunch and a few snacks to tie them over during the day. Let the games begin...

As they drove the remainder of the trip, they watched the darkness quickly turn into daybreak and were relieved that they wouldn't be arriving at their destination before dawn. Upon arrival, Delores backed the truck down to the hidden launch trail and the two began to unload and build their yaks for the task at hand, unaware at first, of their 'bird fan' that had been observing them for the duration - patiently waiting for a hand-out that would never come. But the bird was not their only companion. Swarms of no-see-ums amassed around them like flies on s.... well, you know! They were brutally fierce and viciously unforgiving, paying special attention to Fern for some odd reason. It was almost unbearable but a necessary evil at that point of the game.

By 7:00 a.m. Fern paddled out to escape the torturous flies and a local kayak angler joined Delores on the shore with plans to spend the morning fishing as well. She exchanged greetings with him and took advantage of the opportunity by explaining who they were and why they were in town. He introduced himself as Chris Eliason and was kind enough to take a few minutes and point out a couple of productive fishing spots that might help put a few solid entries on the official Lady Angler score cards. Long Bar was the name locals gave to a nearby long-running oyster bar and that's where Chris was headed - Fern and Delores were invited to tag along.

As the women quickly paddled away from shore, they gradually escaped the onslaught of no-see-ums. What a relief. It had turned out to be an absolutely glorious morning thus far. It was a tad overcast, the water was as slick as glass, and Chris had led them to a promising hot-spot. No one in sight but those three anglers and Fern was the first to cast. She hooked into spirited ladyfish one right after the other but those wiley acrobats wiggled and squirmed their way right off her hook time after time. Frustration set in but she kept her hopes up. The morning had just begun.

Delores started off bottom fishing with two split-shot weights holding down a live shrimp skewered on a circle hook. Less than 45 minutes after anchoring down and casting in the deep cut of the Long Bar oysterbar, she hooked into her first fish of the morning. A 14 inch flounder. This was a good sign and it gave her the chance to test out her catch/photo/release process. She systematically positioned the fish on the measuring device, quickly took a picture of it, removed the hook, and released it back into the water. So far-so good.

The tide had been receding since their arrival that morning. Delores had set aside her bottom rigged rod and opted for a change of pace and pulled out her popping cork. She baited the circle hook with another shrimp and in less than 30 minutes she snagged an 18.5 inch spotted seatrout. She kept her fingers crossed that it wouldn't throw the hook as she reeled it close enough to net. A repeat of the catch/photo/release performance and back into the water it went as well. She was making progress.

By 9:00 a.m. the tide was at its lowest level. Chris had been keeping his distance allowing Fern and Delores to monitor the best fishing spots but bringing in a few fish of his own at the same time. Delores decided to take a break and stretch her legs on the newly exposed oyster bar and Chris did the same. He pulled out his cast net and made an effort to catch some bull minnows for bait. Delores carefully walked across the sharp oysterbeds to engage in some minor chit-chat and to take a look at the lay-out of his fishing kayak. He seemed genuinely impressed with the girls' competitive spirit and their ability to take care of themselves out on the water. He suggested that they check out a virtual on-line kayak fishing tournament called kayakwars.com He said that the site could use some awesome female kayak angler teams to add a little spice to the mix. It was certainly a site to check out when they had the chance.

While Delores and Chris were busy relaxing on the oysterbar, Fern had been equally busy catching fish. The fish in question, however, was not one she recognized. There was no time to paddle to Chris for a possible identification, though, so she took a good picture of it for identification later. It was released and later identified as a Bar Jack. The ladies were on a roll now.

Break time was over and Delores climbed back in her kayak and paddled out once again to cast a line or two. It was only 9:30 a.m. and there was still so much time to fish. She switched rods once again and worked on the bottom. As she closed her eyes and listended to the tide chatter on her marine radio, a big fat 19 inch trout hit her shrimp and sucked up the hook along with it. Fingers crossed once more as rod tip stayed high so as not to lose this one. She made quick work of the netting and photographing. The more practice she got, the better she got at it. And thanks to Chris's guidance, she was getting lots of practice.

It was 10:30 now and Delores had been feeding pinfish and ladyfish all morning with only a few fish to show for it. Not that she minded. The fish she brought to the boat for tournament photos were well worth the 30 plus shrimp she had to forfeit to get them. But now she was down to her last shrimp. After that, she would have to start using her Gulp 3 inch New Penny shrimp that she had stashed in reserve for moments such as this. She carefully ran the circle hook along the spine of the dead shrimp taking extra care to hide as much of the hook as she possibly could given that it was her last chance using live shrimp. After the cast, she paid special attention to the movement of her popping cork and periodic line pulls. She knew something was playing with her bait so her timing had to be just right when she reacted with a 'set-the-hook' motion. Her heart went into a tail-spin when her rod bent in an instant and her line started squealing! Her first thought was that she'd hooked into a small shark - it was fighting with every ounce of energy it had, and she was fighting hard praying that her knots would hold under the pressure. That fight lasted for a minute or two and the entire fishing community within earshot knew in an instant that she had a redfish on - the biggest one she'd ever caught from her kayak. She was giving them a play-by-play of her struggle to net that sucker and get a picture of it before it became the proverbial 'one-that-got-away'. Chris recognized her fight and offered to help but this was something she wanted to accomplish on her own merit. Time had never moved so fast. It seemed like a half an hour had passed from the time she hooked into that 27 inch redfish to the second she released it back into the water. What a rush it was - never to be forgotten.

By 11:30 the weather had changed and the fish stopped biting. Fern's husband had kept up with the weather report from Ocala and fed her information as the morning passed. They knew the chance of a typical Florida rainstorm was high but they didn't see any immediate danger so they continued to fish but with a safer plan in case the weather continued to worsen. They left Chris and the long oyster bar behind and paddled themselves closer to shore and their original launch site. Fishing the rocky / grassy shoreline for a while might be worth it. Both being out of shrimp by now, they were limited to Gulp bait and/or a few pieces of pinfish Delores salvaged from earlier in the morning. Fern continued to attract the smaller fish, but nothing worth putting on her score card. Delores was lucky enough to hook into one last flounder before calling it quits. The wind had gotten stronger and it became a struggle to keep the fishing line from knotting up on a regular basis.

As the wind began to pick up in strength and the rain clouds slowly moved it, Fern and Delores discussed their exit strategy. They continued to fish until 12:30 at which time they began their paddle back to the parking lot. They allowed themselves a hour to paddle back, break down their gear and load it up with another half hour to drive to the weigh-in ceremony. The rules discussed at the captain's meeting the night before made it very clear that anyone arriving even one minute late would be disqualified so it was imparative that they were on time. What they hadn't counted on, however, were tourists driving the 10 mile, curvy, two-lane state park road going the exact speed limit allowed which was 45 mph. At that pace it was cutting it awfully close to arriving at the weigh-in on time. Luckily they made it with five minutes to spare.

By now it was 2:00 p.m. Delores and Fern were tired but excited at the same time. They turned in their score cards along with all of the other ladies that had already arrived. There were snacks and beverages set up and in addition to being tired, they were hungry.... very hungry. Somehow eating and keeping hydrated during a day of fishing is not always the priority it should be. Any avid angler knows that. As soon as they found themselves a comfortable seat, the rains came. The afternoon rainstorm they had been warned about. It sprinkled, then showered, then rained, then poured. The women huddled under the tarp as best they could. It was a bit over-crowded to say the least, but they managed. Captain Mike had taken the microphone and explained that a raffle would take place while score cards were being calculated. A renewed sense of energy swept over the crowd as a Costal Angler assistant handed out a blue raffle ticket to each of the lady anglers.

200218 was Delores's number, 200219 was Fern's. Every item raffled was a nice one - because it was free. From the simple promo coozie with a few high-end lures sticking out of it, to colorful beach towels, to even more colorful lawn chairs, to gift cards at Outback. The "ooohhhh"s and "aaahhhh"s continued as merchandise was introduced and then subsequently claimed. What had puzzled Fern and Delores, though, was the fact that neither of their ticket numbers had been called yet. They feared the items would be gone before their numbers would be picked. That is the risk of the raffle. Then...when they thought the prizes couldn't get any better - Capt. Mike held up a box of ladies Isabela style Costa Del Mar 580 sunglasses. Delores nudged Fern...they had been disappointed just minutes earlier because their tickets hadn't been pulled yet. Now they were thankful for that delay. You could hear the past item winners express their sense of misfortune. They would have gladly traded their prize for this one. Number 318 was announced. Delores wasted no time in waving her raffle ticket in the air and with a huge smile, she paraded up to the front to claim her prize.

Next item up for grabs was a 30 quart YETI style cooler made by a company called Engle. Fern had caught a glimpse of it the night before at the captain's meeting and commented on how she wouldn't mind having one of them. The look on her face as her ticket number 319 was called at that very moment was priceless. Again, you could hear anguish in the voices of former prize winners. Another item they would have gladly traded theirs for. Patience was a virtue that day.

Well, Round #1 of the raffle prizes had all been given away but there ended up being more prizes than there were women and so began an unexpected but eagerly welcomed Round #2. A new set of raffle tickets had been distributed this time leaving Delores and Fern with numbers 200228 and 200229 respectively. Only ten digits off of the previous set of numbers. 'Good Sign', they thought. How many items left waiting to be claimed, though, was unknown. A few more Engle coolers were up for grabs and quickly collected and then finally, the mack-daddy prize of all was held up for all to see. A brand new HERO3 Silver Edition GoPro camera. The thought that ran through everyone's mind at that very moment was, "Wow - how awesome would it be to win that?" You could have heard a pin drop when the number was being read; 2...0...0...2...........2...8. Delores's hand went up in a split second and she was amazed that her number was picked out of a lot of 25. That was just a pure stroke of luck against tough odds, and she ignored the subtle 'stink-eye' facial expression that quite clearly said "Go back to Ocala" as she walked past the other ticket holders . (all in just, of course). Fern and Delores had done pretty well for two 'fish-out-of-water', figuratively speaking. Their hands were getting soar from high-fiving one another! The locals didn't have to be jealous for too long, however. A few of them cleaned-up pretty well themselves.

Fern and Delores both were completely content with their unexpected windfall. They couldn't have imagined reaping in any more prizes or awards or having any more fun than they were having right then. The crowd watched and chatted idly as the raffle ticket bucket was taken away and the stage was being set up with bright pink fifth - first place prize-packs. The nature of the tournament was for each woman to catch all ten species listed on the flyer and to measure the longest of each species, then total the numbers for one final score. Fern had only photographed one and Delores had caught only three of the ten listed. Those who had caught more of a variety had a better chance of placing in the tourney. And better yet would be the women who had gone out in boats captained by their husbands. The two ladies just made themselves comfortable, sat back in their chairs and watched the other women duke it out amongst themselves.
After all of the raffle prizes had been given away, after all of the major awards had been presented, after all of the "congratulations" had been exchanged, it was time to just relax. Delores and Fern were among the last to leave. They were just so exhausted from the adrenaline rush of the past 48 hours. They drove back to the hotel and took a dip in the pool, talking the entire time and reliving some of the more memorable moments of the last couple of days. Phone calls had been made to anxiously awaiting family members back in Ocala who couldn't understand a word that was said during the phone conversations that were attempted at the weigh-in. There had been way too much background noise for that. The boys back home were proud of their women, that's for sure. By 9:00 p.m., Fern and Delores were curled up under the covers and watching Ms. Doubtfire on the hotel T.V. until they fell asleep. Mother's Day morning was spent drinking coffee and packing for the long drive back to Ocala. The weekend had turned out to be even better than they expected it to be. They thoroughly enjoyed their time in Wakulla county and St. Marks and are sincerely grateful to Capt. Mike McNamara and Coastal Angler Magazine for extending the invitation to compete in the 1st Annual Big Bend Lady Anglers Inshore Championship. Absolutely looking forward to next year.