Going shallow

CHOKOLOSKEE -- Vickie Wright was thrilled. Paddling her kayak into a sheltered pass near Turkey Key, she cast a jig to the grassy edge and immediately hooked an eight-pound redfish. The fish's exertions pulled the rod backward over Wright's head, turning the taut fishing line into a towing hawser.

''There's nothing better than being in a kayak and getting a free ride from a fish!'' Wright said.

Watching his wife tangling with the redfish, captain Chuck Wright realized they were on to something. Wright, a Ten Thousand Islands fishing guide, decided to add kayak fishing to his repertoire of services. This fall, he plans to launch what might be the northern Everglades' first liveaboard kayak fishing operation.

''Shallow-water fishing is all about stealth,'' he said. ``Boat manufacturers spend hundreds of thousands of dollars trying to make quieter hulls. Kayaks are the king of stealth.''

Wright purchased a fleet of eight 12-foot, sit-on-top polyethylene kayaks whose rigid construction resists the gouges and abrasions of the region's ubiquitous oyster bars.

Customers have a choice of an out-and-back kayak paddling trip through the Everglades; a backcountry powerboat/kayak fishing trip using a flats skiff to ferry three kayaks; a 24-foot mothership that can drop off up to six kayak anglers in the back country; and the planned liveaboard operation featuring a refurbished 60-foot Chesapeake Bay oyster boat carrying kayaks and skiffs.

I joined a mothership excursion recently with the Wrights and their friends JoNell Modys and Marilyn Campbell. Despite howling easterly winds, we found vast expanses of calm and fishy water around Turkey Key.

FISHING THE SHALLOWS

The tide was falling as the captain helped us into our kayaks. He gave each of us a rod, small tackle box, mushroom anchor, life jacket and drinking water. Then he instructed us on what to look for:

''In this little pass, there's a scoured area in eight feet of water,'' Wright said. ``There's grass on the edge. As the water falls, the fish in the shallows are forced deeper into the pass. The tide wraps around the edges, creating deeper areas. Those are natural ambush points for snook and reds.''

Wright said he'd keep track of us and pick us up in the 24-footer when it was time for lunch.

Vickie Wright was the only one of us to catch fish -- she got two nice reds -- but confessed she had fished the area before with her husband. She used a ¼-ounce red Cotee jig head with a three-inch, gold metal-flake swimming shad plastic tail.

''You've got to get the jig on the bottom and jig it, hoping you don't get down into the grass,'' Vickie Wright explained.

Unfortunately, Modys did get her jig stuck in the grass, which cost her a shot at a school of redfish she had been successful in stalking.

''I saw ripples in the water and stopped and started casting,'' Modys said. ``I picked up a great big glob of grass and mud, and then a boil happened on the side of the kayak. Then the water exploded. They were redfish. Before I could get set to cast, they were out of there.''

I paddled into a narrow creek, where the only fish I saw were jumping mullet. Still, it was fun to explore uncrowded, unfamiliar waters. I wanted to come back again to really give the area the once-over.

SERENE SETTING

Campbell, kayaking for only the second time in her life, said she loved paddling.

''Just the serenity of being out there, away from motorboats,'' she said. ``You can be much quieter. It's fun to look down and see where the fish live.''

Despite the Ten Thousand Islands' buggy summer heat, Chuck Wright said that's one of the best seasons to fish.

''There are large schools of bait in summer and fall,'' he said. ``The big schools of snook come in up to 20 pounds, and they're in here to spawn. They stay around here while the bait's here and stay until the winter migration offshore. Some of the best fly-rodding for snook is September and October.''

Hmm. Get the hint?