Motor Trouble

2/26/2022

This is the first fishing trip since the second child has come into my life. The amount of pieces that must now fall into place in order for a 3/4 day on the water has created endless angst since D-day 5 weeks ago.

Never the less, the good lord has seemingly noticed my my patience. The in-laws are coming into town to help with the offspring, the wife is in a good mood (despite appalling sleep deficits for the past 5 weeks), my good buddy is free to fish, and the forecast shows clear skies and gentle breezes from the West.

Our deadline to be home is 3:00 pm. Right as the toddler awakens from his daily slumber. We decided to put a few extra miles on the boat instead of the trailer this time. Launching at a ramp closer to home in hopes to relieve the stress cracks that have been slowly infecting both aluminum I beams. I have little faith in my fix that involved 8 minutes and 4 U-bolts.

There is another skiff poling the first spot of our usual milk run for this body of water. So we press on, extending our run to about 13 miles from the ramp. We pole the first flat for a while before we spot a small school of juvenile tarpon breaching the surface, rolling lazily in a foot of water. The beautiful slick calm conditions have them on edge. No amount of quiet nudging with carbon fiber can get us into range. A balance between speed and stealth. The sun is still low and we bump a few more large wakes before deciding to make a move.

The skiff from earlier is now gone, so we do our best to find a line that has not yet been desecrated. After a long and lackadaisical pole we have seen nothing with exception of one bull redfish. The next two spots yield even less in the way of worthy fly fishing targets.

Spirits are still high, we had a run in with some fun size tarpon this morning, and I am thankful to have a day to pursue this ridiculous passion. And to have a wife who puts up with the all-encompassing, childish addiction.

There is time for one last spot before my appointed deadline. Within the first 50 yards we bump a handful of invisible sea trout ranging for 20 inches, to gators. Hope is creeping in. If we can get even one fish to the boat the high should last me at least until turkey season. Better for bride and groom alike.

A string of redfish slide along a shoreline of mangroves and rubble, my comrade drops his fly right next to the mangroves, well in front of the lead fish. By far our best shot all day. As they approach, he gives the crustaceous looking offering a sharp twitch. The lead fish flares off in a golden flash, the second takes a momentary glance before doing the same. The third fish devours it.

A solid slot fish runs to the reel as we bask in the success of the day. one fist bump and a picture later, he swims off. I crack a beer and smile- I could go home a happy man right now, but I’m on the bow and we have 30 minutes left.

I dare not wish for a fish of my own, but in the last 50 yard stretch of shoreline two big redfish materialize, and one decides to make quick work of my black and purple slider. I tighten up the drag and wrangle him away from barnacle covered shoots with a grin. Surely a reward for the last five weekends of dad duty.

Getting home a minute early seems like a good excuse to pin the 30 year old throttle and fiddle with trim and tabs until we reach a delightful 40mph. I ease the throttle back down to cruising speed as we approach a line of pleasure boaters, but RPMs keep plummeting until the motor shuts off. We are left gliding and dumbfounded. A quick inspection for obvious causes turns up nothing, so we crank her back up. She sputters onto plane only to cough her way back to a halt a quarter mile later.

We apply a little extra sunscreen and crack a beer for the seven mile idle home at 1300 RPM. A phone call to my slightly perturbed wife and some serious motor work still doesn’t negate the high brought on by a couple feisty redfish and time spent on the water.

New Rig

Upon arrival to the pre-determined public boat ramp I immediately noticed a chip above the rub rail the size of a flattened quarter. The motor looked its 20 year old age, but still glossy and roared to life when requested. Her idle over zealous and spotty for a few moments until she relaxed down to a comfortable 800rpm, the pisser became a solid stream. The boat it self was dated but clean, her 22 year old lines resemble the brand new mavericks of today. The aluminum dry launch trailer was in similar condition.

I always knew I would upgrade my pathfinder 15T one day. I could not have asked for a better first boat to guide me through the excitement and disappointments of boat ownership. I figured out a lot about what I wanted and what I didn’t want in a skiff during my 9 years of ownership.

I had two reservations when it came to purchasing the Maverick. The first being the 10” draft, and the second being and the 22 year old motor. Trusted confidants and mechanically-inclined buddies all assured me that a 1999 Yamaha two stroke is “bullet proof.” But I have become accustomed to the luxury of a 5 year warranty and a 5” draft. My current outboard never crosses my mind until the tiller is in my hand.

My new acquaintance passed me the throttle and the skiff lurched to life in spitting wind across the large central Florida lake. I tried to hide my grin as I imagined the pathfinder bouncing across this sloppy cold front. The Maverick sliced through chop at an alarming pace.

The main reason I wanted to upgrade from the pathfinder was to gain the ability to cross bigger water and make longer runs in comfort. There was no suitable place in this lake to pole the boat, but after a firm handshake I pulled away with my “new” 1999 Maverick Mirage II.

Now to go home and give her a bath, and also sell the pathfinder before my wife murders me.

The following are some of the upgrades I made to my new steed over the past year or so, in case any other skiff nerds are interested…

First things first: I removed the broken fish finder mount and replaced it with two drop in, powder coated aluminum cup holders. After lots of youtubing and elbow grease, I determined that the foggy old compass needed to be replaced with its new counter part.

The boat came with and old ratty casting platform. i removed the 20 year old carpet from the plywood, before sanding and painting it. I also sanded down the aluminum and gave it a quick once over with black rustoleum. not the prettiest platform, but it will do.

After the sale of the pathfinder, I had a little extra money. I drug her up to the Skiff shop in Oak Hill, FL. I had them install a new Minn Kota trolling motor with quick release bracket, and replace the original rope rub rail insert with a black rubber one.

The carpet has to go.

After some paint thinner and about 6 hours of tedious scraping.

I had Castaway customs come out and laser measure the gunnels for Seadek. I saved on cost by applying it myself, it was just like a really large, very expensive decal.

Since I had to remove the old rod holders to replace the old carpet, why not make new ones from mahogany?

I applied a few strips of Velcro and a Yeti Side kick dry bag to store cell phones and other accoutrements. Then I dipped into my first born’s college fund to replace the original steering wheel with and Edson “Special Ops” wheel.

There are still a laundry list of things I want to do, but this is what I have done in the first year of ownership, not to mention working some bugs out of the old Yamaha. She has been on a fair amount of adventures with my in the first year, and has proved to be fishy. I think I’m in love.