It's hard to put into words, feelings about a place; though love sure comes to mind, it is a bit over used. You told me you love your children, but you've also told me you love pizza. I remember a little boy and a bag of frozen shrimp. We all have to start somewhere, and for him it was on his grandmother's dock in a canal, off the Banana River. She worked for Nasa and for a time lived on the water not far from there. I think something happened there on that dock, because I recall being very small and watching my heart drift away with a bag of spilled shrimp. Those shrimp represented my passion and hours of entertainment, watching my bobber slip below the surface and pulling up another Pin fish or the occasional trout.
Today was a special day, because my wife and kids drove over with me and they enjoyed the beach while I went to Mosquito Lagoon to chase Reds. I think I had the better time, the waves were rough at Canaveral and my wife lost her prescription glasses. I enjoyed a calm early morning and my biggest struggle was finding bait. I settled for what looked like a Killi and didn't slip through the holes in my cast net. I couldn't find any mullet, pins or sand perch within casting range, and I got to use my new Old Town to pull myself out of the mud.
I have fished all up and down Mosquito Lagoon, and lived in Edgewater and New Smyrna for a time. My Great grandmother and grandfather settled in Oakhill at the turn of last century and she told stories of an incredible fishery. It's the salt and it's in my marrow, it's the breeze and chasing signs on the water, I do feel this place and miss it. I love all the Lagoons, but Mosquito holds a special place in my heart.
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