An Adventure in Tampa Bay

A couple weeks ago my brother Jonny and I heard a tale of someone who hunts hogs in a mangrove swamp somewhere in Tampa Bay. Yes, I'm being purposely vague. We did some detective work and figured out where it was. It is accessible by boat only. After contacting the FWC to make sure of the legalities of hunting hogs in the tidal mangrove and mud flats we planned a scouting trip for last Friday morning.

We loaded my Carolina Skiff with our bows as well as fishing rods and, after getting a later start than we planned, began a long run to this mysterious mangrove swamp that we had only seen on Google maps. It ended up being at least 10 miles from the boat ramp we used. Next time I am going to try a different ramp.

We arrived at the edge of the mangrove swamp late in the morning and were greeted by a school of pompano cruising along the grass flat that boarders the swamp. After getting sidetracked by throwing a pompano jig with no luck we began push poling up a narrow cut into the thick tangle of mangroves. At times the cut was so narrow we had to push branches aside to continue on.

The sun was high and hot by this time and the mosquitoes were thick. Luckily Jonny had brought a can of mosquito repellent which we quickly took advantage of. After pushing a long way in we found a spot where the mangroves opened up to a large expanse of mudflats. We pulled the boat up into the mud and grabbing our bows, we began walking the edge of the mudflats.

The hogs had been digging for fiddler crabs

We were excited to see plenty of hog tracks, and most of them very large. The mud and sand was
rooted up where the hogs had dug for fiddler crabs and shellfish. It's amazing how wild hogs can adapt to nearly any environment. We could see hog trails going into tall salt-grass fields and thick groves of Brazilian peppers. It was obvious that the hogs were bedded down in thick cover to escape the August late morning heat. But there were hogs there and that is what we had come to investigate.

Our plan is to return in the late winter months when extremely low tides leave the flats exposed, offering the hogs an all they can eat seafood buffet. Then the hogs will move during daylight hours and the mosquitoes will be gone as well. It should be a fun option come January when deer season begins wrapping up and the fishing slows down.

Satisfied with our findings Jonny and I pushed our way out of the mangroves and began the long run back. A couple big storms had built up in a few different areas of the bay and we had a pretty rough ride in my small skiff. We ended up going under the Gandy Bridge to get some shelter from the storm. We began chumming with greenbacks and fished our heavy spinning rods with pinfish.

Jonny's cobia

It wasn't long before my rod doubled over. As I was trying to tighten my drag, the fish took me around a piling and snapped my leader. After I was snapped a few more times and Jonny jumped a big tarpon, Jonny finally got a cobia to cooperate and fight away from the pilings. Every time it would see the boat it would take a strong run away. After a long fight we netted it and got it in the boat. It just made the size limit and we had a tough time fitting a 34 inch cobia into a 20 inch cooler.

After catching a mixed bag of mangrove snapper, jack and bluefish, and getting broke off by some more very large fish, we decided to call it a day. Sometimes I have a tough time on my day off deciding whether to go hunting or fishing; it was a cool feeling doing both on the same trip. It was kind of strange having to rinse my bow off along with my fishing rods though. I'll definitely do it again when the weather cools down; and I'll bring a bigger cooler.