Marathon Key Day Eleven: Charter fishing trip with Captain Chuck

Thursday, January 30, 2025

Our goal was to leave the condo by 6:30 a.m. That would give us time to make it to the marina by 7.

We made sure we had with us the required items. Our self-checking found us to be ready.

The only hiccup we had was the news out of Washington, D. C.

Overnight, a military helicopter collided with a commercial jet liner that was in its final approach into Reagan National. Sadly, there were no survivors.

At the marina, we parked. The row of boats we saw on Wednesday afternoon were still silent. But one boat, Size Matters, is where I located Captain Chuck. He was busily preparing the boat for our trip.

Captain Chuck asked us to give him a few minutes before we boarded.

We didn’t wait long before he welcomed us aboard. The first duty was spraying down our shoes with water. Keep the deck clean.

Once this ritual was completed, we introduced ourselves. Captain Chuck gave us a quick orientation about the boat. That included where we were heading toward and what we might expect.

The chatter continued as we learned about Captain Chuck, and we shared a bit about ourselves.

We had what my Richmond friend, Jack Berry, calls a “chamber of commerce day”—perfectly pretty.

Soon, Captain Chuck had the boat emerging from its berth at the dock. We were quietly heading out of this inlet and into a broader one.

During this trip to the Keys, we had been overly focused on sunsets. This morning, we would be properly positioned to see the sun rise, and rise it did.

At some point, we cleared the no wake zones, and Captain Chuck opened up the engines. Within seconds, we were scooting atop the calm surface. I wondered what the sea life below the surface thought about this roaring wakeup call.

We had one important stop to make before heading beyond the mainland—“the bait guy.”

Anchored in a small harbor, we slowly approach his location. There are two, maybe more bait wells that capture a variety of live minnows. Charter captains arrive each morning asking for their favorite live bait.

If the bait guy can meet the captain’s request, he takes his dip net, goes into the bait well, scoops out the minnows, and transfers them into the captain’s boat well.

Cash is exchanged, the bait guy wishes the captain luck, and his attention turns to the next charter captain.

Captain Chuck makes his request. The bait is handed off to him in the dip net. He stows the bait, and the bait guy hopes we have a good morning. Next Captain Chuck positions the boat to make our run out to the Gulf of Mexico.

We cross under a bridge that handles traffic on the Over Seas highway. From Miami to Key West, I’ve read there are 42 bridges.

Heading out to the Gulf we are able to see multiple beautiful homes on either side of the water. Within minutes, we are out in the open Gulf.

Based upon his experience, Captain Chuck knows when we arrive in good area for catching fish. He throttles back the engines, the forward motion of the boat slows. Captain Chuck begins aligning the boat over one of his favorite spots. At the precise moment, he drops the anchor.

Then, he explains the technique to use. Next, he is baiting the hooks, and preparing to hand the rods over to us.

On the back of the boat, attached to the exterior surface, and placed just below the waterline is a rectangular shaped cage. Designed for easy access this cage holds, a “chum block.”

A chum block is a block of frozen fish pieces. As it slowly melts, fish are attracted to this ‘gourmet’ fare.

With our rods properly baited, Captain Chuck turns us loose.

I honestly don’t remember who hooked the first fish. There was a flurry of activity with each of us having our lines becoming taut. It seems as soon as Captain Chuck had removed the fish from the hook, measured its size, placed the fish in the cooler, and re-baited the hook, we had another fish on the line.

Then just as soon as this chaos started, it stopped.

We pulled in the lines, and Captain Chuck repositioned the boat.

Again, Captain Chuck worked to prep our lines, and soon, we were catching fish again.

Our main catch was the Mangrove Snapper. We did manage to catch two different type of mackerel, and a couple of times the fish we caught were below the size limit, or the fish were not suitable for eating.

Captain Chuck was like an ichthyologist professor in a college lab identifying fish. No matter the fish on the end of line, Captain Chuck knew the fish on a first name basis.

Additionally, he knew if a fish posed any danger. One fish I caught, he quickly told me not to touch it. Captain Chuck told me an encounter with the fish’s fins would ruin my day.

The action slowed in this spot, and Captain Chuck pulled the anchor. He motored us quickly and skillfully to the site of an old houseboat wreck.

Once we arrived, Captain Chuck set the anchor, and baited our lines. He also coached us about how to work the wreck.

Turns out this was Dan’s lucky day. Over the wreck, Dan hooked a good size black grouper.

Unfortunately, grouper season starts in May. So, this pretty fish was gently put back into the Gulf of Mexico by Captain Chuck. We made a few more casts, but no nibbles.

We had a good morning. Our limit had been caught. Added to that excitement, Captain Chuck shared a wide range of stories from his experiences on the water.

With the anchor up, we started back toward Marathon Key. We made one quick stop at a bait trap that Captain Chuck maintains. With interest, we watched him pull up the trap, and carefully harvest the bait for his next charter.

The ride back to the inlet was just as pretty as the ride out to the Gulf of Mexico. Out on the water, we could see waterfront homes that might go undetected on a leisurely drive through a neighborhood.

Once the boat was snug in its berth, Captain Chuck gathered the fish from the cooler. He displayed them for photos, and then Captain Chuck put his filet knife to good use.

As we watched him work his magic, another boat owner appeared. This guy was a talker.

We heard about his experiences as a commercial pilot, and his tales as a dedicated fisherman. He talked with Captain Chuck about an upcoming fishing trip. I sensed we were listening with a grain of salt.

The brown pelicans had been keeping an expectant eye on Captain Chuck. I’m sure the pellies were having the same internal, self-talk— ‘I hope this Captain will share some of those non-filet scraps with us.’

The pellies were lucky. Captain Chuck made sure all the scraps hit the water. There was quite a pelican scrum in jockeying for those pieces.

Soon, the filets were ready. Captain Chuck iced them down, and we paid him for the trip and the memories.

We wished him luck with the remaining snowbird months and the upcoming grouper season. Captain Chuck told us when the grouper season is completed, he heads to Alaska to Captain fishing trips in that stunning environment.

On the drive back to Tranquility Bay, we chatted about this chapter of our trip.

Once inside the condo, we proudly showed our bosses the bag of filets caught from our morning of grueling work out in a harsh and hostile environment. These are smart ladies. They didn’t buy any of that fish baloney.

Butch took the lead in figuring out how many filets he would prepare for our dinner that night.

With the remaining filets, we opted to give them to Tranquility Bay’s support staff. I walked the bag over to the office, explained our intent, and the filets were graciously accepted.

Nothing like fresh fish for dinner. Butch seasoned and cooked the filets to perfection. The side dishes were a hit too.

Before dinner, I started my sad prep for Friday. On Friday, we would be working our way back to the Miami airport. There we would board our flights to return us to our homes and the reality of more winter.

If you have been reading this blog for the last ten days, you know I’m at best a mediocre fisherman.

Do I want to catch fish? Yes.

But, I have concluded, it is more about the opportunity to be outside in an environment that is different from home.

An environment where the solitude of the morning will overtake me in its beauty, a beauty that is different with the breaking of each new dawn.

That beauty can be seen in the shades of color as the morning rises up out of an eastern sky.

Its about the timing of the right moment to see a line of pelicans as they gracefully skim inches above the crest of a wave.

And it is appreciating stillness as a shorebird in the shallows silently stalks for minnows.

And, it is the wonder of the backlog of stories that give me the opportunity to daydream like a child staring off into the sparkling soul of seawater.

Maybe, it isn’t about the fish that are never caught.

Maybe, it is about appreciating the beauty of a weary and worn world that still has its heartbeat. A heartbeat that needs us to see it, hear it, feel it, protect it, and love it.

Oh how this world needs to be loved.