The Upper Gulf of Mexico offers two types of inshore fishing in the winter. Tradition directs the vast majority of anglers into bayous or up spring-fed, freshwater creeks and rivers. Relatively dark, warm water — Florida springs maintain a temperature of approximately 70 degrees — draws spotted seatrout into deep holes. Visit the Steinhatchee, Econfina or St. Marks rivers on weekends, and you may have to wind your way through a flotilla of anglers from Florida and Georgia dredging up a cooler of speck fillets.
Far more sporty, many shallow shoreline grassflats go relatively untouched. I abhor fishing in crowds; this is the only time of year I may venture out on weekends. Cold or windy weather, plus competition from hunting and football, often translate into never seeing another angler all day up shallow.
I actually look forward to fishing this time of year. This may not be the time of year to rack up big numbers, but there are more than enough catch-and-release redfish and trout to keep me entertained in solitude.
Before randomly tossing the kayak in the water and hoping for the best — which works in spring, summer and fall around here — I plan my fishing around a computer, pulling up the tide chart, wind forecast and map.
This is the time of year in the Upper Gulf when virtually every morning starts with a low tide. Overnight temperatures typically drop low enough to push fish off shallow flats, so there’s no reason to rush out of a warm bed. That low tide, however, often exposes bare shorelines and adjacent shallows to the sun. As the water rises, the water absorbs heat from the bottom. By noon following the first bad cold front this year, I found redfish literally crawling up into that warm mud, so shallow their backs were exposed. One of the overslot fish was big enough to straighten the split ring on a new topwater plug. Throughout the afternoon, baitfish, trout and reds follow the rising water, often feeding aggressively as their metabolisms speed up relative to the water temperature. A prolonged cold spell adversely affects the bite, but within a couple days enough fish acclimate to the conditions and renew the pattern.
Given that tide pattern, I know when to fish; the wind forecast and map tell me where. I often prefer a windy shoreline in the summer, as it sets up a shoreline current that gets the bait moving and the predators feeding. However, in the winter, a quiet, protected shoreline exposed to the sun is generally best; in other words, the fish gravitate to the same areas that a person would find most comfortable. The lack of wind and waves also makes the kayaking less rigorous and more pleasant, and the fish easier to see.
For better or worse, the shallows are typically gin-clear in the winter and the seagrass dies back, so spotting fish is never easier. Unfortunately, the fish are also watching, so stealth is more important now than any other time of the year. Hull slap, over-zealous paddling or the tall shadow or silhouette of a standing angler can send fish already nervous about being exposed in clear shallows running for the safety of deeper water.
For a winter predator, food comes at a premium. The forage species that permeate summer shallows migrate south or offshore following the onset of autumn’s cold fronts. What little bait remains gravitates to warmer areas. Where you find mullet or glass minnow schools, you’ll generally find reds and trout lurking on the perimeter. Watch for areas of darker water; they absorb more heat and may be a couple degrees warmer than surrounding clear water, enough to attract baitfish and predators. This time of year, I generally prefer to cover a lot of water, cruising quietly and stopping to fish only when I encounter forage or fish. Most fish will be over mud or sand, so search out those light-colored spots on dark grassflats, or the sandy troughs next to shore protected by shallow grass farther out. Approach quietly, and don’t go any closer than a long cast.
A few accessories will go a long way in keeping winter kayak anglers comfortable. For paddle kayakers, a pair of light, breathable chest waders are fine, especially if wade-fishing is on the menu. However, most of the wading I do since moving to the Florida Panhandle is in less than two feet of water, and pedaling in even light chest waders can get uncomfortably warm, and the continual pedaling motion can wear on the seams of some waders. I switched to a pair of ultralight Chota Hippies, which weigh just a few ounces and, when folded down below the knee, are perfect for launching and don’t interfere with pedaling. I just pull them up for shallow wading or when I get out to shoot pictures before releasing my catches.
On a chilly winter day, sliding into a toasty-warm pair of boots makes it a lot easier to head out the door. Even breathable wading boots get clammy by the end of the day, so I just slip them over a pair of convection boot dryers to remove humidity and prevent odor. Inexpensive dryers are available from most major outdoor outlets. They’re sold under many different brand names, although most are manufactured by Peet.
Finally, a pair of gloves can keep the blood flowing to the fingers on cold days. I may be the last person on the planet who doesn’t answer the phone or text while fishing (yes, I’m ignoring your calls), but for those who don’t let outdoor activities interfere with their social lives, Hanz recently introduced their Waterproof Touchscreen Gloves, which offer the dexterity to text in comfort.
