COMMERCIAL FISHING IN THE KEYS

     

COMMERCIAL FISHING IN THE KEYS

A nice catch from the Florida Keys, rinsed and ready for market.

When my wife Sandy and I moved to South Dade County, Florida in late fall of 1980 to accept another promotion with SEARS, we came with two young sons, Scott and Matthew, aged seven and four respectively, and a lot of excitement and expectations of what we would experience. Early spring of the next year our family grew larger with the birth of our third son, Kent. We relocated from one of the most Northern stores in Sears Southern Territory, Bowling Green, KY, to one of the largest and most deeply situated in the South of the territory, Cutler Ridge, Florida. Other than Key West, the most Southern of all the Sears stores, about 35 miles South of Miami.

It did not take long to realize that our raise for the promotion could not cover the difference in our cost of living, and left no room for extravagances. Things were tight, really tight, for the first few years.

The boys grew like weeds in the South Florida sunshine, and before long it became apparent Scott and Matt had both a passion and the talent to play organized baseball. Matt wasn't quite old enough initially, but I looked into getting Scott, our oldest, onto a team in Khoury League at Harris Field. He was chosen right away in the tryouts and as practices ensued, Coach Brian asked me to be his assistant coach and coach first base in the games. In the beginning, in those first practices, the image that comes to mind is that of a colony of worker ants going after the crumbs of a cookie. But, eventually, order ruled the day. Well, some days. Every once in a while at least.

After two years it was time for the team of boys to advance and Brian decided it was time to call it quits. His eyes had that far away look, like a man that has been tested to the limit.

I accepted the league's request to manage a 9-12 year old Khoury League major league team and with son Scott in tow, Matt a year or so later, selected as many of the boys I had formerly coached as I could, beginning with a young power hitting shortstop/first baseman that I intended to develop as my pitching ace. To secure him, I asked his father, Gary, to be my assistant, which gave him automatic placement. Gary was a dedicated coach and as devoted to the kids as any parent could ask for. He had a stern demeanor that was no nonsense and no doubt had been nurtured during his years of teaching shop to the kids at Homestead High School.

In addition to teaching, Gary also commercial fished by hook and line during the summer and off days. We struck up a fortunate friendship, and he invited me to earn the extra money we needed by joining him in his fishing endeavors. And that is when our family fortunes began to turn for the better.

We weren't netting or long-lining, so the idea wasn't objectionable to me. But, it was hard work as well as great adventure. Gary was as close to being a naturalized "conch" as you could get. He not only knew the seasonal migrations and habits of the fish we pursued, he knew the locations and had the vendor to buy our catches.

We would take our fish to a place in Florida City called Snowball's. The owner was a Haitian, sturdily built, gun-wielding, and obviously the "godfather" to the community of Jamaicans and Haitians surrounding his shop. He WAS Snowball. We brought the fish whole and iced down to him, not even gutted and he took all we could catch.

Snowball had a fryer in back of the fish counter, and as soon as he secured our catch in the showcase and iced them down again, he had clientele lined up to select their lunch to be dropped into the cornmeal and hot grease.

We averaged at least 200-250 pounds most days, sometimes much more, and the catch varied by species and size. We usually targeted gulf mangrove snapper that we caught in the keys about 20-30 miles out on the gulf side. Gary had a built-in sonar God had installed in his brain, and he could take the Grady White until the shoreline disappeared and to the the fishing hot spots without fail. We also fished the ocean-side reefs when we only had half-days or fished until midnight after work. Besides mangrove snappers, our catch could include both red and gag grouper, mutton snapper, grunts, lane snapper, yellow tail snapper, porgies, hogfish, and Spanish mackerel. When he had a demand for shark, we procured to meet demand. We could not supply Snowball with fish fast enough to satisfy the market.

Gary Brantley, left, and I rinsing and sorting the catch.

Every day off whether weekday or weekend, and many a night for about three years was spent supplementing our income by this means. Our early years in Miami were made much more bountiful by commercial hook and line fishing. It was at once great adventure and excruciatingly hard work involving long hours, short sleep, and demanding physical labor. That on top of the 50-55 hours I put in in the Cutler Ridge retail store. I was fine with that. The extra income was significant to the Ragan household. More than Gary knew.

But, thanks to Sandy's ability to teach part-time after the birth of our third son, Kent, regular yearly raises and bonus' every year for almost four years, and finally a major promotion to the Region Staff as Merchandise Manager for sporting goods, toys, gift shops, and cafeterias for South Florida and Puerto Rico, our standard of living much improved. I no longer had the time to fish for supplemental income, the distance between stores on both Florida coasts, and of course, Puerto Rico, required long drives and many overnights. The 35 mile drive to the Miami Group office also required an hour or more each direction every day. My weekly hours at work and travel plus home office "catch-up" on Saturdays and often Sunday as well, increased significantly and left very little time for anything else.

Today, I usually only keep panfish for our dinner table. I release all other fish, and often the largest, the breeders of any species, for future angling adventures.

But, whether the time I spent for three years supplementing income in the keys, or the next seven years chasing seatrout, dolphin (mahi-mahi), cobia, big jack crevalle, barracuda, and muttons, hogfish, and grouper for the family table.....I am both thankful and happy in my memories of witnessing glorious sunrises and sunsets in azure waters pursuing one of my favorite past-times.

Sunset on the water.  The author in the Florida Keys.

Keith