Before the change in weather we made the most of sunny days and warmer temperatures on the St. John’s River…and some of the best ‘shellcracker’ fishing you’ve ever seen.
By Ray Reilly for Press Pros
Someone laughed at me last week, poking fun of my Ohio roots.
“If you were home you’d be sitting on a frozen lake, ice-fishing, I guess,” said Florida friend, Steve Montgomery. “I’ve read about it. Sounds miserable. Tough to justify that for an six-inch crappie. And six inch is a keeper, right?”
But I haven’t been in central Florida this month for cold weather and six-inch crappies from Ohio. I’ve had my sights set on panfish, alright, but something much bigger than six inches, or even eight! And Steve had sold me back in October.
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“You plan on coming to Florida and we’ll fish the St. Johns. Best bluegill and shellcracker river in the world…12 to 15-inch fish on a good day,” he promised. “And let me tell you, there ain’t many bad ones.”
So the morning of the national championship game last week we headed east from Ocala towards Palatka where Steve’s friend Dick Busby was waiting for us with boat, bait, and all the optimism in the world.
The St. Johns River is one of the legendary fisheries in North America, featuring both freshwater and brackish water fishing, depending on how close you are to the Atlantic Ocean. It’s so good, in fact that you have to buy licenses for both. At about 300 miles long, it flows from south to north along the east coast from Orange County north to Jacksonville, and the middle stretches of the river are noted for some of the best river bass, bluegill, and shellcracker fishing you can find, anywhere.
And that’s where Michigan native Busby headed his twin-outboard Tracker, north to what’s called one of the basins, or wide points, in the river. After about a twenty minute ride north of Lake Monroe he abruptly directed us towards familiar waters that he obviously knew from previous experience.
A retired auto worker, Busby has fished the St. Johns for years.
“We’re going to fish with jigs and wigglers,” he stated. “About six to eight feet, and right along the pads that line the channel out from the shoreline. Just like bluegill fishing in Ohio, only much, much better.”
The jigs were reminiscent of what we’d use for crappie on Ohio lakes in the spring. And a wiggler is nothing more than a smaller, red version of a nightcrawler. But at the right time, on the right day, and with the right presentation…deadly.
They’re really red-eared sunfish (look close and you’ll see why). And people who fish for foot-long shellcrackers in the South call them…better bluegills.
“There’s just enough sun poking through the overcast to brighten the water and make these fish curious to feed. Too much light sends them deeper. Just the right amount gets them excited,” said Steve.
And wham…no sooner had my line and small bobber hit the water than it torpedoed towards the depths of the channel. And fishing with four-pound monofilament on light spinning gear it felt like I was hooked to a 10-pound bass.
“Don’t play around with him,” offered Busby. “If they’re hittin’ like that they might not do it for long. Make hay while you can.”
Taking his advice I hauled a bright red-ear sunfish to the top – a shellcracker – and Dick quickly netted it, unhooked, and had my rig back in the water in an instant.
Wham…again the bait was blasted, nearly as soon as it had reached depth, and carted off towards deeper water. And again I horsed an even bigger fish to the top where Dick was waiting with the net.
In the meantime, Steve was hooked up with a fish of his own – three fish in a matter of a minute and a half, and none of the three less than twelve inches.
The average size was about twelve inches…the average weight was more than a pound.
“We’re just getting warmed up,” promised Busby.
It was fast and it was furious…almost a fish with every cast. And soon the challenge became to decide just how small a fish you were willing to keep. Steve and I each caught fish that approached 14 inches.
“Think fillets,” said Steve, with an ear-to-ear grin. “And not four-inch fillets, either.”
And to his point, these sunfish – shellcrackers – were nearly twice the size of the best-sized crappies you might catch at the height of the spring season in Ohio, length and weight. The average weight was consistently over a pound.
We had filled the holding well when true to Busby’s warning…it was over. The sun burned off the clouds, the water got brighter, and the activity suddenly stopped. We had fished for exactly two hours, and spent the next few minutes selecting the best of the best, and released the rest.
“You seen enough?” smiled Steve, breaking down his rod and packing it away.
“I’d like to see more on another day,” I said, fishing now for an invitation.
“Tell you what,” he answered. “If this is what it takes to get you out of Ohio in winter we’ll do it again next year. Just allow for more than two weeks, and one day on the St. Johns to fish.”
But that one day proved that if you want to fish, and you take the time to go, there’s no better fishing to be had than Florida in January and February – lake, river, or pond.
“You have to change your habits,” Busby laughed. “I left Michigan during the time when Urban Meyer was kicking Michigan’s a— every year. But I didn’t leave because of football, if you know what I mean.”
I knew exactly what he meant.
’Til next time, I’ve enjoyed it.
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