Pair of offshore fishing trips worth dealing with heat, cramps

If there was a bowl of cereal sitting in front of me, I could fall asleep and slam face-first into the bowl like something out of a comedy routine.

So why am I so tired? The first reason is this darned heat. The second is my two offshore trips this week where I handled more big fish than I can count that tore up my hands so much that I can barely push the keys on my keyboard without sharp pains running up my arms.

I know what you are thinking: “Poor Collins, he is sooo tired from fishing while I have been stuck in my office and haven’t been on the water in months.” I can understand that sentiment, but I am by no means a spring chicken and, with my back as crooked as the path a drunk makes weaving down a road, it is hard work out there.

The first trip was with my buddy Dan Cornell, his two kids and a friend of his from Atlanta. Dodging thunderstorms, we ran about 50 miles offshore to bottom fish, stopping at spots along the way.

With the water temperature in the mid-80s, two things are pretty much guaranteed. First, you will catch sharks. Second, you never know what else you’ll catch. Unlike other times of the year when you pretty much know what you’ll catch, the dead of summer draws fish here that usually are not seen, much less caught.

This day was a perfect example of a day when anything could happen. With scattered thunderstorms and lots of lightning banging away in the not-so-far distance keeping me on my toes, we caught a real potpourri of species.

On our first stop, we tangled with some big red snapper, black sea bass and even had encounters with king mackerel and cobia. If you know fishing regulations, you realize that only two of these species can be kept, so off we went to deeper water.

After hitting a half-dozen places, we hit the jackpot. The sonar screen was almost totally covered with fish that extended from the bottom on up for over 100 feet. Any and every bait dropped down was slammed before it could even get near the bottom.

Not only was I unhooking fish after fish, I spent just as much time re-rigging after big fish broke lines while also keeping a wary eye on dark clouds and lightning that seemed to change directions every few minutes.

With his kids aboard, Dan was concerned but, having been in this rodeo many times before, I eased that concern (or not) by telling him I had been struck three times in my life and was still alive. Boats are grounded by the water and, if hit, usually only the electronics are fried.

Getting back to the fishing part of this story, we caught a few huge mangrove snapper, a fish usually associated with the Florida Keys and, even there, rarely over a couple pounds. It wasn’t until the other day that Dan texted me what the state record mangrove snapper was and I am pretty sure we had one that would have beat that mark of 16 pounds.

Only when I felt the temperature drop 20 degrees in a matter of a few seconds did I suggest we run in — and it wasn’t a second too soon as a violent lightning storm took over our fishing spot. It was OK, though, because we had a lot of fish to clean and Dan’s kids got home without taking 220 volts.

My second bottom-fishing trip was Fridayday. This time I was with my longtime fishing partner Don McCarthy, along with Harry Morales and Blake Stevenson from Beaufort. All I can say is, wow — maybe even double wow.

While you all were on land getting hammered by extreme weather and water spouts, we were anchored up in flat, calm seas landing maybe one out every three fish that hit. One thing is clear, and that is the red snapper population is booming — and I mean big red snapper. I’m not sure how many we released, but it had to be 30 or more and not one was small.

When these monsters hit, it took every bit of energy and cunning to land one. Each of us spent as much time re-rigging as we did fishing because you simply could not stop these big fish.

Along with hordes of red snapper, we caught beautiful triggerfish, vermillion snapper, king mackerel in the mid 30-pound range and I even caught a relatively rare fish for our waters called a Graysby grouper.

To top it off, it was brutally hot, with not even a breath of wind. I’ll bet I drank four gallons of water and Gatorade. I guarantee I sweated out every drop of what I drank. But when a bite this strong comes along, it is almost impossible to call it quits.

My hands are starting to cramp up again, so that’s my story. If you can handle the heat, I suggest you go bottom fishing. The bite is red hot and you never know what you’ll catch.

This story was originally published July 24, 2016 at 8:40 AM with the headline "Pair of offshore fishing trips worth dealing with heat, cramps."