It’s not balmy outside, but it’s better than average              

I live in Florida not just because it offers the most diverse fishing on the continent, but because I have an aversion to cold weather and everything associated with a real winter. While my wife will point out that I can find comfort on the couch in front of a roaring fire, I’ll hold fast to the facts that the fire is more aesthetic than essential and that I’m still in surfer shorts and bare feet.            

Since Florida is a large peninsular state running north and south, real winter is something a portion of northern Floridians experience in fractions. And though it’s nothing like winter in say, New Hampshire, the grass does turn brown and the ocean and Gulf temperatures drop below the acceptable heiney immersion rates.            

Northern Floridians (AKA Georgian Lites) do experience prolonged periods of cold weather we in South Florida view with a shiver and a doubled bar order, but the cold really does promote some interesting fishing. When air temperatures drop into the 30s for several successive nights the diatoms in the water column die off, promoting an inshore water clarity bordering on aquarium quality.             

And for those that have never fished a salt marsh, the sight of a redfish tail waving in a field of spartina is enough to make you tweak your lower unit on an oyster bar, or spend a tide high and dry. Then again, if those tails show in multiples, it’s probably worth it.            

Unlike the ocean and Gulf conditions that promote clarity during the summer months when glass perfection is a term that describes a body of water that is as flat as it gets without freezing, the inshore waters support sight fishing on the mornings after your wife spent the night warming her feet against your back. In fact, if you hear an audible “ahh” when she puts her ice cubes against your back heater, that’s a sign more consistent than the Solunar Tables that fishing will be good that morning.            

Sight casting to fish in the winter requires a commitment to slow movements, something that doesn’t come easy when you’re shivering like a rat in a coffee warehouse. But unlike those proximities of real winter weather, we in Florida have this thing that marches across the sky we call the sun which we see daily, and that sun throws heat in the form of radiation. So, if you’re wearing dark clothes on a winter day, it doesn’t take long to feel like a fat cat with a window seat.             

Because the water is cold as well as the air, the fish are even slower to move, which means that if you take your time, you can warm your body and heat your soul as you sneak within casting range of a big redfish, black drum, spotted seatrout or bedding bass. Probably the best part of the winter sight fishing is watching a big fish eat a lure or fly in shallow water.            

Once you see that bite, you absolutely have to see it again, as your medulla oblongata questions the image by replaying it in your mind…repeatedly…at all hours. The image is so powerful, that you’ll wake from a sound sleep, smiling and replaying the cast and bite until you realize there’s a pair of French-tipped ice packs preventing blood from reaching your kidneys.            

An indirect benefit of fishing on the coldest of winter days is the lack of other anglers, most of whom take being a foot warmer with a few grains of salt and an order of eggs and grits. So instead of following a philosophy of running until you get away from the crowds and then looking for fish, the entire waterway becomes your casting canvas.            

When you have all the fish to yourself is when those magical days occur, the ones that become etched in your memory forever and seep out randomly so that you tell the story on every major holiday or any time more than three anglers enter your personal space. Which is why many of the best hero shots have you dressed like the Michelin Man, making your friends question whether you were in Florida or “one of those other southern states.”            

In another two months, you’ll forget about the clear water, trading it for wind, shorts and a topwater plug, and even though you’ll be fishing the milk, you won’t think for a moment about the past season because once again your feet will be sporting a tan, and the inshore and offshore will appear as one. And it’s at that time you’ll remember how size trumps numbers.