Using a Mothership affords more-distant excursions

By Jason Callaghan

I've been content for several years to paddle the shorelines of Florida's coast fishing for resident species such as redfish, trout and even migrating tarpon. I was always within a couple hour's paddling from the public-access launch site where I started. As flats skiffs, bay boats and offshore rigs would fly past me, I would silently congratulate myself for having the disciplined patience to slow down and actually find the fish that everyone else was passing by. But, as I fished the same area of coastline year after year and caught the same species season after season, I began to look at the wake left behind by those boats and think to myself, "Where the hell are they off to?"

The saying goes: all boats have limitations, and it's especially true of most paddle craft. The range and speed at which one can get to any particular fishing area is, for most kayak anglers, limited to a few miles in any direction. This was always my perception of kayak fishing-until a few months ago.

I met Capt. Mike McNamara of St. Marks Outfitters last year while kayak fishing together in a local charity tournament. He talked to me about his budding guide and outfitting service. He also expressed his desire to be able to guide clients on unique paddling and fishing experiences.

St. Marks Outfitters is no ordinary guide service. They cater to kayak angling and ecotourism, but still offer half and full-day standard inshore/offshore excursions in one of Capt. McNamara's boats. St. Marks Outfitters offers kayak rentals and a variety of guided kayak angling experiences. They have a couple of 24-foot Carolina Skiffs, each custom rigged and outfitted to carry up to four kayaks and kayakers to outlying areas.

Toward the end of summer, a friend of mine, Michael Ray, and I finally got a chance to go fishing with Capt. Mike aboard one of his skiffs. He told us to bring our kayaks and some sturdy tackle. After loading our kayaks and gear aboard the skiff, we stopped and sabikied some pinfish, then headed about 10 miles offshore. We anchored up over some rock piles and offloaded our kayaks in about 25 feet of water.

It was a bluebird day with a light wind hardly making a ripple on the water. I didn't know what to expect and was a little overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of my open surroundings. I dropped a live minnow on a spinning outfit off the side of my kayak and drifted quietly. Moments later controlled chaos erupted. My rod doubled over violently and my drag started singing as the line ripped out and away, not down. A few minutes later I caught a glimpse of the fish-brown with a white stripe. A cobia! Eventually, with the help of Mike from aboard the skiff, I was able to safely gaff and land a nice 25-pound keeper fish.

We continued to fish the rock piles the captain had previously marked with a temporary buoy, while Capt. Mike idled a few hundred yards away and identified more structure with his bottom machine. He called us over, and after refreshing our bait supply and getting a cold drink from the skiff, off again we drifted. Michael and I caught some small grouper and jacks for a while before he started yelling-a big fish was pulling him in circles. I had barely enough time to check on him when my rod again bent over hard. This time the fish pulled straight down. After several minutes of an extreme tug of war, I was again able to safely land an even bigger cobia. Michael's fish was so big, he was unable to pull it out of the rocks and it ended up breaking his leader.

I've been asked, "Why go through all that hassle? You may as well just fish from a regular boat." As we were heading back in after just a few hours of fishing, I knew the answer to that question. I realized that I had just experienced something special. It was the same feeling I had after I had caught my first redfish from a kayak. It was the same feeling I experienced when I had a 100-pound tarpon dancing on the end of my line and pulling my kayak wherever it wanted to go. This was the feeling that even before I got back to land and my everyday life, I knew I had to go experience again-and soon. I was finally able to go where all those boats that had passed me had gone, and I wanted to go back again!

And I have. Not long after the offshore trip, we planned an inshore daytrip to an area about eight miles from the nearest public access. This outlying area is well known for the hundreds of marked and unmarked limestone rock formations that lie just below the water's surface. The rocks-which are a bane to gel coats, trolling motors and the lower units of outboard motors-are also the very reason anglers are attracted to this area. The rocks hold lots of bait, and that bait attracts lots of fish.

After anchoring the skiff a safe distance from the area we planned to fish, we set out in the kayaks for a fun-filled morning of redfish and trout fishing. The shallow drafting kayaks didn't mind the rocks one bit. Once again I was able to enjoy a unique day of fishing from my kayak. I remember Capt. Mike remarking as we were heading back in, "We just fished an area where the fish have never seen a kayak before."