I called Cody and told him what had happened, and he agreed that we needed to act accordingly  by finding the closest water and rowing baits before the day was gone. So I packed up the gear and met Cody at his house and it was time to rock!

  Obviously, since I was low on the fossil fuels, we decided to throw all the gear into Codys rig and in no time we were finally beach bound in search of what would accept our stingray offering.

 We arrived with some favorable conditions for a change, and were anxious to put baits out to see what would come of it. However, the tide was not in our favor and there was seaweed starting to creep into the trough and our lines, but we were in too deep now to turn around.

 Hours passed as we conversed about who our favorite metal bands, and sang the praises of the band DOWN's guitar player Kirk Windstein and how cavemanish he is. That's when Codys 80 TTS began to light up. Cody has never spent much time shark fishing on the beaches for anything besides black-tips and spinners, but he has been committed since he Team Rebel induction to getting tight on something stout on the sand, and it appeared his chance had finally arrived.

 After about 4 pick ups and drops the spool finally was rolling steady, that's when I told Cody to "lock it down" and let the circle hook engage into the sharks mouth. Without hesitation Cody locked up and line started peeling off the reel, it felt like a decent one. Cody being new to this opted to sit in the sand instead of the more traditional Team Rebel harness while the fish was taking its initial run, and this one had a lot of heart!

The fight lasted about 15 minutes until I saw the JET BLACK dorsal pierce the water in the first trough. It was the unmistakeable sickle we saw cutting across the water all while it was executing some ferocious 180's as it tried to elude capture. However its attempts were futile, as I bum rushed the shark the first opportunity I had. In an instant, Cody had landed his first real beach shark.

  We took two pictures before the hook was cut and I was dragging the angry black hammer back to its watery home, but not before Cody was able to snap this cool picture.

  So far Cody has broken into the Team Rebel ranks while bringing it STRONG to whatever expedition we have embarked on, and if his luck keeps up, something big is lurking on the horizon...........

Until next time....

Team Rebel OUT!

 Don't forget about the JAWS movie memorabilia exhibit that will be on display, and the little fact that Discovery Channels SHARK WEEK will be on hand filming the entire festival and tournament! So stay tuned for some more awesome updates! Over and out!

 Cody Davis is known far and wide for not only his appetite for metal and appetite for lead bait weights in a bowl of WD-40 for breakfast, but for his land based King fishing skills. He has produced time and time again when nobody else ever can, and produces in a variety of different places, so needless to say this was expected of him eventually.

 The day on the pier was long, and full of a lot of tourists that were bunking up the local fishing scene as usual. The decision was made on the fly to move to a different location and put forth a valiant effort in an area which many deem a wasteland right now. The plan was set and Cody and his crew mobilized northward in search of the might King.

 Upon arrival they found an empty pier, with what few locals were there expressing their feelings on how he would fail on this particular day on their quest for king. Not dettered by these claims, they pushed forward on their somewhat hopless endeavor.

 A raspy voice came across the piers intercom system, signaling that there was only 15 minutes left to fish before the police came and forcefully stopped you from fishing any longer. As all hope was almost a faint memory, Codys reel lit up like a train hit it, with a monster King doing a back flip 15ft above the surface off in the distance. The line instantly came tight and the battle was on, full of blistering (almost reel spooling) runs.  As the pier attendant was making her way onto the pier to clear out Cody and his crew, the fish was finally straight up and down and ready for a a gaff shot to prematurely end its existence. Needless to say, it went off without a hitch.......

Cody and his crew loaded up and headed back to the southland, with spirits high, as not only did he prove that the area is not as much of a wasteland as people believed, but had a 50lb class king-fish in the bed of the truck to prove it. Congrats to Cody on one of the largest Kings taken off the East coast in years, and a big welcome from all of us into the Team Rebel society! Keep your eye out, because with the King of the Rotten, this is the norm!!

 Until next time.... Heads down! Horns up!

Team Rebel Out.........

 I was sitting on my back porch looking into the sky, watching the branches on all the Foxtail Palms flexing in the stern wind, and enjoying the overcast skies and a frosty beverage, when my phone began to ring from none other then the hammer kid Viktor. He told me he wanted to fish on this night, which I Immediately thought that he was out of his f*^%#&g mind, but he pressed the issue and insisted that he had a good feeling. Being that he is now at the ripe old age of 20, and I am no longer responsible for his death if he dumps in the surf way out at night time, I said "go for it, no rest for the wicked right".

  His normal companion did not want to "waste his time" so Team Rebel pledge Cody and I decided to dedicate the rest of our night to Vik's cause. We did a little bit of brainstorming, and dug deep into the rebel X-files to think of a place that we would have a balance of somewhat smaller surf and the best chance of a hookup, and with the conditions at hand, all signs pointed at "The Bank". Justly named, as we always seem to make "withdrawals" when we hit spot-x at the optimum time.

   When we setup base camp on the beach, a shred of humanity descended upon me, and I told Viktor that this was a terrible idea, but he insisted he was heading out to sea to crest the white mountains that were present as a stable foreground to the menacing darkness offshore. And after a VERY dicey paddle in 4-6ft surf without a life jacket, Viktor stayed true in getting the one lone bait out, and the wait began.....

 About two hours into the soak Viktors 12/0 let out a steady roll against the mammoth surf. Viktor came tight and engaged the circle hook into the fishes mouth and both him and the shark were locked in for the long haul. The fight  was full of belligerent head shakes and strong, brutal bursts which were yanking Viktor all over the beach in his harness. Cody had to take a break from trying to wreck homes and help support Viktor while I readied the rope and cutters for a landing.

 After the better part of twenty minutes, a black dorsal rose in the midst of the white wash at the surfs edge, it was then I was able to identify the fish as a feisty and belligerent Bull shark. True to its name, it was difficult to land the shark because it kept "bulling" hard in the wash, but within a minute the shark was finally subdued for a hook removal and a couple of quick pictures.

 Viktor and Cody said they would take the tail for the dangerous release, which is always sketchy when you are dealing with an angry and spunky Bull shark in rough and shallow water. But all went well, and the long,skinny male which looked like it just came out from the inside waters was in great shape and on its way again after the short detour. Afterwards, some high fives were exchanged, and Viktor proclaimed that "now we could go home", and not a moment too soon in my opinion.

 Surf was braved, homes were wrecked, and bulls were caught. Last time I checked, that constitutes as Metal in the book of Team Rebel.

Until next time, get tight, Beast up, keep it metal.

-Team Rebel out

 This report was brought you in part by.....

  Viktor decided he would address this matter himself with a lure that no unwilling future shark bait could deny; the cold steel shaft of his AB Biller spear gun. But the sea was lifeless as it has been for months now, thus making this task much more difficult than it even seemed at first. After a total of 14 hours and 6 locations over the course of two days scanning the depths for stingrays, Viktor finally was able to get a couple small ones and depart back toward the coastline for the original purpose.

 Viktor called me and told me the location he would be fishing on this particular night, and I told him I had some prior arrangements with Cody, and that if something changed we might take a stroll out to scope out the situation. Well, as usual, the plans fell through, so after a long trek back from the northern lands, chewing on beef jerky, and completely overloaded on nicotine and Black Label Society, we launched a sneak attack on the small, discreet shark camp.

 When we walked up on them, I noticed that the beach had the "vibe" that I always mention when I feel like there is something nice swimming in the perimeter of base camp, so we decided to hang out for a while and see what woould come of it. But shortly after our arrival Mikes 12/0 let out a fast and steady run. It sounded like a nice fish had taken the ray, and with one quick throw of the lever, the circle hook was buried in the corner of the fishes mouth and the battle was on!

The fight was short lived but full of plenty of belligerent headshakes and sharp turns. Within a few minutes we saw the signature double dorsal rise up in the wash, and we knew we had a stout Lemon on the other end of the leader. We charged the surf and cody and I secured the tail so we could get a couple quick shots.

After about approximately 30-40 seconds in the wash zone, the shark was on its way back into the trough so it could continue its regular routine and casual cruising and sight-seeing tour up the coastline.

All in all, not a bad not for any of us, even though we had some prior arrangements fall through, we were able to get over to spot x and help out a little bit with Mike and Viktors fish. And one thing we all took from this besides a couple of nice pictures, is the fact that everybody has a fire ignited under their ass right now, and who knows what tomorrow could bring.

Until next time.....

-Team Rebel Out

 We would like to thank our great sponsors for supporting us through hell and high water so we can keep doing what we do! Make sure to check them out!

 The smell was in the air, and the motivation was still at an all time low even after an almost year long hiatus from shark fishing. We had no plans to fish at all this year, until something strange occurred a couple of nights ago.... Long-time readers and followers of our operation know what we are talking about when we make mention of the "ducks", and during a nap a couple of days ago I awoke to my dog barking out my front window as if somebody was trying to tear my front door off the hinges. But when I walked out to investigate, a chill shot up my spine when two of the ducks were on my porch, staring through my window with their soulless eyes, and it was at that moment I knew, no matter what had happened in the last year, it was time to get the gear, and march toward the shore, if only for one trip.

 It just so happened that Brendon called me soon after the incident had occured, and I asked if he wanted to give it a go on a whim, which he reluctantly agreed to. However, for the first time in 2012, the skys were about to open up and unleash the floods upon us...

 We took a page out of the old Team Rebel scriptures and decided to beast up no matter what bad weather was coming to give it a shot. We were met with HEAVY resistance from above, and were punished in four hours of blinding rain and lightning, in which we had no shelter, and had to resort to throwing our camera and phones into a maggot infested trash bag to keep the only things that mattered dry, as we stood in the pitch black ocean for 2 hours just to stay warm.

 By some miracle, the rain stopped and shortly after Brendon got a steady run on his rod. He harnessed up and I came tight on the circle hook and the fight was on.

The battle was short but well fought by our adversary, and after about 10 minutes we were happy to see a dorsal rise in the surf. I went out and roped it and we left the guy in the wash zone and snapped a quick pic in the rain during the hook removal process and sending him on his way.

Nice to get tight again, and who knows, maybe we will have to go fishing again one day soon.....

Until next time....Beast Up!

-Team Rebel out

BUT WAIT! There's more! Set your clocks, mark your calendars, and send your children packing to a foster home, because during the weekend of May 4th-6th at the world famous Laishley Crabhouse and Marina, the Discovery Channels Shark Week film crew will be in town to make sure all the mayhem is caught on tape! That's RIGHT! THAT Discovery Channel Shark Week! Make sure to keep checking out the official web page in the picture link below for more details as they come on the festivities surrounding the tournament and if you think you have what it takes, to enter a team of your own! BEAST UP! Because it is about to get real p in here, and really quick, and remember, keep checking here, and the official website for updates all the way up to the shotgun start, and be prepared for some BIG announcements and press releases in the coming days.

     Read more about the FWC meeting and the new regulations set to go into effect on Jan 1st, 2012 by clicking on the picture link below.

And again, a big shout out to everybody who helped make this possible! Thanks again for your support!

 A long endless year of heat here in Florida this year has been more unbearable than ever before, mostly due to the fact that this may be the worst year of fishing I have ever witnessed with my own two eyes. But there has been a couple of bright spots during the course of the seemingly endless purgatory of fishless-ness, and this report is one of our best moments of the year.

   The heat index was hovering around 109 degrees, with the humidity in the air being so thick, it makes even the simplest of tasks a burden this time of year. But even with the scarcness of good angling, and the stiffling heat, Brendon made the phone call to me asking if I would like to join in on a trip to a legendary wade fishing spot of ours, which i graciously accepted.

   We got our gear set and hit the water at around 1 P.M. not knowing what to expect, as many of our trips to this honey hole of ours have left us heart broken, or heading home empty handed throughout the course of the year. But after leaving the spot alone for over a month, and the mullet starting to make their annual migration in the area, it renewed our hope that maybe something would be different on this trip.

   We set up our customary base camp in the normal spot, and began the task of rounding up some mullet to prepare to fish the tide change. Luckily for us, there was mullet swarming the surrounding flats, so it was a nice change of pace, as we have had to fight tooth and nail just to be able to obtain bait this year. After about twenty minutes, we had all the bait we needed for the afternoon, so we began drifting the 12inch mullet down current towards the edge of the now grassy flat.

  Just like the rest of the year, hours went by of standing in the luke warm water, without a bite, or a sign of life to be seen anywhere. Needless to say, morale was low yet again, and it wasn't looking to promising just like all the previous trips to the flat during the year. That was until Brendon began retrieving his mullet and prepare for another drift. Brendons massive mullet was about a foot and a half from where he stood in a little more than ankle deep water, when I looked over toward him to check out what he was up to, when I noticed a large black shadow raising up just a couple of feet away from him at the end of the flat. In a split second, there was a massive eruption just inches from Brendons feet, and his rod was bowed over as far is it could bend, all while he was trying to regain his footing and composure in a frenzied state of panic. Mud was being thrown all over the shallow flat everywhere the fish traveled, and amongst the massive boils I could see shades of green and yellow, indicating it was the fish we had been looking for all season long.

   The battle raged on for a few minutes, before the fish had finally wore itself out enough to be chased down on the flat so it could be landed. I grabbed the fish, while still leaving it submerged, and yelled for brendon to grab his phone to take a picture of the beast he had just beaten in the shallow water, and what a nice fish it was.

   After a couple of quick pictures, Brendon placed the big snook back into the water, and began to walk her down the flat to let her recuperate after the vicious shallow water battle, before she shook once violently and slowly cruise off the flat back to her home in the channel.

  It was nice to see not all hope has been lost for the remainder of the year, and with a little bit of luck, and a much needed boost to our morale, maybe we can end the year of 2011 strong. Great job on a trophy wade fishing Snook Brendon, and hopefully it will be the first of many more to come.

So until next time....Team Rebel Out!

  Brendon made his way across the treachorous stretch of unincorporated roadway as the sun was getting ready to fall into the Western sky,which sends the signal out for the creatures of the night to arise from the bowels of the swamp, and converge on the still warm and seemingly endless stretch of asphalt extending West-ward. But it only took one short stop along a roadside ditch somewhere in the middle of the state to land a nice and healthy black water Snook, before the mosquitos became unbearable, forcing the back into the truck and realigning their focus to the trip at hand.

   They pushed on as darkness fell on the trail, thus giving them an opportunity to take in some of the unexpected sights and creatures you may encounter when traveling on the trail at after dusk. Kind of like this 8 foot alligator that was itching to become a speed bump for an unsuspecting traveler.

  After a semi-eventful trip across the state, Brendon and Eddie finally reached their hotel and checked in for the three day weekend ahead of them, and were finally able to sit down and try to figure out a game plan for the coming days.

   They were only able to manage just a few short hours of shut eye, Brendon arose in a daze to make a half hearted attempt to find the nearest Dunkin Donuts and indulge in his morning coffee and bagel. But on his journey through the light fog shortly after dawn, some explosions caught his eye coming from a private pond system on the edge of a neighborhood a few miles down the road from their Ft. Myers hotel. Brendon quickly pulled over to the side of the road to assess the situation, and to make an attempt to find the culprit behind the explosions he had saw just moments ago from the road. He sprung to action with a small zara spook he had on a light tackle rod that was still in the truck from the voyage over the night before, and after a couple of casts, an estimated 30lb tarpon opened its mouth beneath the spook, making the plug disappear into a small whirlpool before the fish launched itself toward the sky and popped his line.  High hopes and visions of silver raced though Brendons mond after the breif roadside encounter,so Brendon raced back to the hotel to wake his cousin, load up on tackle, and head back to the golf course water hazard to see if they could drum up any more luck. But when they arrived back at their new "honey hole", they did not know that this is where they would end up spending almost their entire vacation. Which the became clear once they saw finger mullet getting blown onto the banks of the lake in a full blown fresh water feeding frenzy.

 Brendon quickly sprang into action and began scooping the stranded finger mullet up off the grass laden shoreline with only his hands, and they quickly "released" the marooned baits back into the pond, with hardened steel sticking through their little mouths. It did not take long before both Brendon and Eddie were hooked upon a double, with species that they could not clearly identify, that is until both fish hit the bank after a short, vicious battle.

Cast, after cast, they began to bail abnormally large land-locked Mangrove Snapper onto the shoreline, with most of them being between 14 and 20 inches. They devoured every bait they tossed into the corner of the pond, until they had all been caught, or their bellies were full. But soon after the mangrove snapper destruction, another blitz of fish came barreling through, and began demolished the finger sized baits in the corner of the pond. This time it wasn't the nuclear sized snapper though, but another land-locked species was now moving in on the lame duck baits.

The day went on, and the blitzkreig of fish continued, with no signs of fading as the afternoon approached. They even began catching a new species every now and again.

As the sun began to fade over the Western horizon, the duo decided to pack it in for the night, and sample a little bit of the local night-life, but not before the redfish tally was up to around 10. However, that doesn't include the lone Snook, and the large number of prehistoric Mangrove Snapper which they captured throughout the day as well. But until the next day, it was time to tally up one more red, and kick back and relax for the night.

After sleeping through the morning bite, and trying to recover from the previous day/night, they headed back to the water hazard in an attempt to re-live the magic which they encountered the day before. It was not long before the two of them realized, that again, they would not be let down. Soon after the first baits were casted out towards the edge of the sawgrass, they began to land nice land-locked reds yet again.

   Again, they encountered hot redfish action, well after the sun had set, and their arms had gotten tired from the endless action they encountered throughout the afternoon. With the final tally for the afternoon ending up around 10 Redfish, they decided to again hit the town and return the next afternoon for their final attempt to land a few more quality fish, and to take one last crack at the Tarpon that had been eluding them for the previous two days.

  The final day began, fairly similar to how the previous day had began, with a very late start and then some fast action with some nice redfish. And again, they found that the redfish bite had never seemed to stopped from the previous two days.

But as the sun was fading on the day, and their departure time nearing, the two decided to fish a couple of more baits before they hit the road and headed back to the hustle and the bustle of the Southeastern coast of Florida, and ultimately back to reality. On Brendon's last bait, an eruption occurred on the adjacent shoreline, right where his mullet had been swimming freely, trying to avoid a confrontation with a predatory pond dweller. A silver bullet emerged from the water a split second after he drove the hook into the culprit, and the battle with the fish of the trip was finally on. Soon after a few massive and belligerent leaps across the pond, Brendon was finally able to land the first, and only tarpon of the trip. And after quick picture, the Tarpon was released to continue its reign as king of the pond.

 With their main adversary finally conquered, and the truck already packed, they hit the road and took the less distracting Alligator Ally back East while the reminisced about the success of their last second vacation. One of the perks about living in South Florida, is that you never know when you might stumble across some incredible angling opportunities, even if you are hundreds of miles from home, because you never know when you may be able to witness a Red Dawn in a water hazard on a fresh water golf course.