By - Captain Rod and Susie Stebbins

HILLSBOROUGH COUNTY, Florida - It is 2:30 PM and the day is Thursday. We are at the marina resting up for an all-night trek and another fishing adventure. We have planned this trip to the turn. Our 36 foot Sea Ray, SANCHO, is packed for our two week trip. Susie and I had the boat all cleaned using our usual sponge products and chamois. Susie and I checked the weather and we were told a cold front had just cleared the area. It was time to get underway. Our destination, Indian Key within the 10,000 Islands area and then on to Ponce de Leon Bay for an anchorage where we will stay about ten days. We will fish a fairly primitive area called Whitewater Bay. Whitewater Bay is located at the southwestern tip of Florida. There is a small bay called Oyster Bay that is between the Gulf of Mexico and Whitewater Bay. This water is all pretty shallow so we are taking inflatables and small motors to fish from. Fishing is great in this area and we can't wait.

We are to meet three other boaters at Egmont Key and our plans are that we will leave there at 11:00 PM. We had just installed a radar the day before and we couldn't wait to give it a real test. We already had confidence in our LORAN and to that we had an auto-pilot installed. Also connected to the LORAN, was our old friend the electronic chart plotter. We were pretty sure that the night would be filled with button pushing chores. We included a set of charts just in case.

We arrived at Egmont Key to rendezvous with the "Dipsy Rae," a 36 foot Sea Ray Sport Fish, the "Sun Ray," a 34 foot Sea Ray Express Cruiser and the "Empress" a 30 foot Chris. Our "SANCHO" made up the fourth boat of this adventure. The Dipsy Rae had dinner ready for everyone and the feast was amazing. Susie and I got to bed early as the first lead was ours and I for one needed some rest.

Eleven o'clock came fast. We sounded the alarm with a few blasts of the horn. On came the lights, up came the anchors and the deep throated roars of mighty engines signaled that we all were ready. SANCHO took the lead and we were on the way. The moon was thin and low. The water was black and the night consumed all of the available light. It is darker than the inside of a black cat's stomach. The water was so flat that we didn't have a sensation of moving. The deep burble of engines pushing us at nine knots assured us that all was OK. This speed was just the right speed to get us to Marco Island by early morning. At Marco we would top off the fuel tanks. We had a desalinator so we didn't have to worry about fresh water. We would make enough water for everyone.

Traveling at night is fun and a challenge. The job gets much easier with radar. The auto-pilot allowed us hands free piloting and the chore of keeping an eye open for buoys, boats and flotsam was made easier. Susie, my precious bow-legged first mate and wife, put a pot of coffee on and made a snack tray for the bridge. Our bridge was awash with dim red lights. The radar cast a soft green shadow on the faces of the content. At eleven miles from shore, we turned south and we were alone. Just the four of us in a slight echelon aft to starboard. Our running lights punctuated the night darkness like tiny stars.

At four in the morning I woke Susie so that she could take her turn at the helm. I went below for a short nap and immediately fell into a deep sleep snoring a roaring song. I was awakened with the sound of our horn blasting. A horn blasting aboard SANCHO at night might mean that something was wrong. To the bridge I bounded only be told that it was nine-thirty and that we were just outside of Marco Island. Susie ordered me to the helm. It was my turn to lead once again. Navigating Marco Island Pass isn't difficult. There are a couple of turns that don't want to be missed. By eleven o'clock all of our needs were satisfied. The tanks were brim full and we are off to our first nightly stop-over at Indian Key and ten or twelve days of primitive camping at anchor.

Indian Key is nestled among the 10,000 islands and is at the main channel to Everglades City, Florida. We picked this place because it is near some very good fishing and their are some services in town. We arrived in the early evening just in time to launch the inflatables, gather some bait, our artificials and tackle. Off us guys went for an evening of fishing. We did pretty well some small red drum, trout and a couple of small Snook. At last, we all agreed, we were in paradise and doing our man-thing that being providing our families fresh caught dinner. Our chests heaved with macho pride. We got back to our anchorage just after sunset only to find out that the gals had already caught a mess of keeper Red Drum and a large Snook for dinner. The fish were cleaned, filleted, sliced, marinated and cooked. The salads were made and the baked potatoes were done and buttered. Even the desert was in place. All of this before we could get out and back with something big enough to show off. We couldn't do much but to offer to clean up after we ate our fill. It was really embarrassing. We sure hoped that this was not an omen...

We stayed an extra day because the fishing in and around Indian Key was pretty good. Everyone caught lots of Red Drum, a few good sized Snook, a couple of large mouth bass, some Grouper and a Jew Fish about the size of an adobe hacienda. The fun of having friends around added to the enjoyment, however, we just knew that we were going to do better at our final destination.

The early morning tide found us in a row and on a southeasterly course. We stayed in close to the shore line with SANCHO in the lead. We could see great fishing structure in the crystal clear Gulf waters. On occasion Susie would spot a Skate darting just off the bow. There were long grass lines from a cold front that has passed a couple of days earlier. We had hopes of spotting Dolphin, but it really was the wrong time of the year for these delicacies. We pushed on at about eight knots enjoying everything that this part of Florida has to offer. Just south of Highland Point, there is an inlet to the mouth of Rodgers River. At the mouth there are a few small islands, just nice enough to anchor for an afternoon of rest, food and a well needed swim. The water temperature was a wonderful eighty three degrees. What fun, frolicking about like a few kids with not a care in the world. That evening in the face of a glorious sunset, we celebrated a birthday with cake and ice cream thanks to the person that just got older. We spent that night at anchor dreaming of tomorrow's short leg to Paradise.

By six in the morning everyone was ready to make our way past Shark Point and then into Ponce de Leon Bay where we would seek safe anchorage for our ten day stay. We arrived at the mouth to Oyster Bay at about nine in the morning at what appeared to be a high tide. We launched two inflatables and sent them in search of adequate passage and an anchorage for the big boats. Everyone needed a minimum of three feet of water. Susie led the dingy search for passage - that is why we call her our "dingy-driver." She uses a neat hand held depth indicator used in diving. It is called a SCUBAPRO "PDS." It looks like a flashlight and it reads depths to about 2.5 feet and it is pretty accurate. As Susie finds "her channel," the second dingy marks the sides of the passage with weighted milk cartons that we would retrieve on the way out. Once the "passage" was marked, the rest of us followed her and the markers to our very own primitive anchorage. In our deep gratitude, we threw Susie and her cohort overboard with no ceremony just a couple of screams, splashes and a lot of laughter. We checked our charts and we found we had nestled between some small islands just about where Oyster Bay and the Shark River come together. Once at anchor we planted our tide pole. This way we could determine when high and low tides occurred and their depths. This would tell us what time was best to leave the anchorage for safe passage to the Gulf. We had exactly 4.2 feet of water where we sat, sixteen inches of free water. For communications between the anchorage and the inflatables we used our hand-held VHF radios. Ours is a Kenwood TKM-107 that we have had for several years and serves us well within about five miles of SANCHO. SANCHO's antennas are high and above the bridge, so reception is usually quite good. We always carry extra batteries. All of the other boats were similarly equipped providing us each with communications.

The contest between boats was now to begin. Reputation, pride and that demonstrated ability were at stake. The most, the best, the biggest and of course the most often would dictate who was to be the champion of the trip and that person was then authorized to brag freely. We all belong to the same fishing club, so the embarrassment of losing was forever and winning was a must...

That first evening was spent by all getting the "camp-site" set up. SANCHO set her strong bow anchor and the stern was tied to a clump of mangroves to prevent swinging in the narrow camp-site. The other boats rafted up next to us with the last boat similarly secured as was SANCHO. Out came the barbecues, the toys, the inflatables, the tackle and the ladies set about catching bait with chum and cast nets. We have a bait cage that has floats and a door in the top. A home made device that will hold lots of bait, free to swim and feed. By dark the bait cage was full, dinner was readied, it was to be T-bone steaks, baked potatoes and corn on the cob. Apple pie with French vanilla ice cream topped the feast. The rest of the evening was spent lying about and lying about how tough this primitive camping was as our generators pumped power to our air conditioners.

For the next many days except for one cloudy morning and a rainy afternoon was spent challenging each other with the days catch. The one day that it rained and blew a'bit we readied the boats for the return trip. A great day of poker was had by two of the eight adult members and they promised to enjoy buying clothes for themselves. Everyone caught their share of Red Drum, Snook, Barracuda, Skate, Mangrove Snapper, Grunt and for us a real treat a few speedy Blue Runners. We had plenty of fish to eat, and the girls actually got tired of having to clean and cook them.

Oh, something about the tides. We had about sixteen inches of free water when we arrived. That turned out to be the highest tide we had. After then, we only had about eleven inches to spare and during low tides we all sat on the bottom. Fortunately the bottom was grassy and muddy. Our generators couldn't be used except when we had some free water below the keels. We all would have preferred to have just a foot or so more water under our keels.

The Friday morning of our departure came too soon. The tide was nearly high enough and we needed to get to the Gulf. The only way out was to take the big boats in tow with their inflatable dingies over the now shallow pass. Only once did SANCHO "bounce" enough to give us a start. SANCHO was the last boat out because we needed the most water. By early afternoon we had made our way to five feet of water where all of us secured our inflatables and set our course for Marco Island. Our next heading was direct to the Cape Romano Bell #16. We then passed west of the sand dunes and then we turned north to Marco Island Pass. This we did at about twenty knots to ensure our arrival before the marina closed for the night. Once into the marina, we drew straws for the showers. I was last and took my shower in cold water, but it was fresh water and all of the salt was gone.

The next morning, tanks full of fuel, we headed north for Tampa. This time we made our way in daylight and we held our speed at about eighteen knots. The seas were friendly and all of the machinery worked well. Just offshore of Redfish Pass one of the ladies suggested we pull into Captiva Island for the evening. They offered to treat dinner and we could all enjoy a swim at the South Seas Plantation resort. A call on the VHF confirmed a one night reservation for all and we were in place by six o'clock. A free dinner was a great treat.

Saturday morning we departed through Captiva Pass and turned north again for Tampa Bay. We ran into some pretty good seas that morning. We all agreed to take the Intracoastal Waterway just north of Boca Grande Pass instead of beating ourselves against the seas. Once in the Intracoastal Waterway we all had lots of fun awaiting bridges to rise and fending our way around smaller fishing boats. Our wakes were great, so we all took it easy. By early evening, we found ourselves at the north end of Sarasota Bay and ready for the traverse to our respective marinas. O'Neals Boat Basin was our home and we moored that evening at eight that evening, which was just in time for a great sunset and one more night aboard SANCHO.

Hey, almost forgot. Who won the fishing championship? She was a petite twelve year old young lady and her name was Janet. A blond, blue eyed, pretty little girl that wasn't even a member of the fishing club. Too bad, we mused, and she couldn't even brag... We macho men were vindicated once again, at least until next time.

Captain Rod, Susie, and the damned cat...

Capt. Rod & Susie Stebbins of Weak Industries can usually be found surfing the internet or cruising up & down Florida's Suncoast in a Sea Ray boat of type (depending on Rod's mood).

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