Howler Privateer Dispatch: Week 7 & 8
The last couple weeks took our 2026 Howler Privateers from the South Carolina flats to the Florida Keys, where paper maps replaced GPS, mullets were earned at ICAST, and tarpon became the obsession. Along the way they found plenty of redfish, jumped a few silver kings, battled sargassum, reunited with friends and family, and proved that some of the best stories come from the sunrises you had every (or no) intention of seeing. Be sure to follow along on Instagram or TikTok as the adventure continues!
Charleston to Beaufort
Our time at home in Charleston was a restart button for sure; seeing family and friends, paddling out at our local break, getting back into the flat. But that didn’t come without its struggles. We were fortunate to time our homecoming with a solid flood cycle, but each day as the water rose, thunderstorms followed. That didn’t keep us from giving it a try, but our hopes of catching some redfish on our home turf were feeling less hopeful.
Luckily, just two hours south Graham had two cousins that were eager to get us on some reds. We said goodbye to our moms and our beds and got back on the road. Pulling into Beaufort, we felt our luck turn immediately. We met Graham’s cousins, Robert and Simon, as they were wading off the side of the road with their eyes on two tailing redfish. It took only three steps from the van before we were taking shots at fish. It was obvious that the fish were definitely more plentiful than Charleston, but the weather still gave us some trouble.
We woke up well before sunrise the next morning with the hopes of catching the last of the flood cycle, but the weatherman forced us to run offshore to avoid the rain. We watched massive schools of bait get pounded by spinner sharks and tarpon until the rain seemed to move off. A quick run inshore and we were into our first flat, the only flat we needed all day. Immediately we were seeing tails. Big ones, small ones, redfish, sheepshead, sharks. You name it, they were there. We were doubled up on reds within minutes. Being the greedy anglers we are, we tied on a gurgler, which led to way too many missed shots. Regardless of botching the topwater eats, we were relieved to return to the boat ramp with fish grime on our hands and our egos restored. Thanks for the poling, Robert!
That night we launched the boat knowing we would only have 30 minutes or so of light. With four of us packed on the boat, we decided to hop off at the flat to wade and let Simon and Robert take the high ground. Graham ventured around the corner and found a pod of reds tailing on the bank. He took his shot and hooked into the fish of the day. Separated from the group on foot, he documented what he could on his phone before safely releasing his fish. We’re extremely grateful to Robert and Simon for getting us on em’ when it seemed our luck was running dry and to Aunt Molly and Jason hosting us. The McAlisters get the job done!
Beaufort Into Florida
We rested easy with the thoughts of tight lines and redfish tails freshly on our brains. With our confidence boosted, we decided to shut down the GPS and begin our 48 hour paper map challenge on the road to Florida. Atlas in hand, we meandered our way onto the interstate. If you’re ever crossing into Florida, stop at the welcome center and grab yourself a fresh cup of juice. If you find yourself without a phone and need to call home, there’s a working payphone available. Never thought our hunt for a payphone would end outside the restrooms of a welcome center. The hardest part might’ve been figuring out how the dang thing works. All those +1’s and asterisks you see on phone calls turn out to actually serve a purpose when making a payphone call. Just a little reminder of our spoiled Gen Z brains.
Originally, we were going to meet the Mosquito Lagoon Regulator, Brandon “Eazy” Thompson, in his home turf in New Smyrna, but he was busy buzzing hair at ICAST in Orlando. Desperate for a cut and withheld dreams of attending ICAST, we rerouted to Orlando to surprise Eazy. We were tasked with finding the convention center only using a paper map (check check) and it tested our brains, especially since our atlas only included only the major Florida highways. We resorted to using the Google Earth street view to get a visual of what our exit looked like and any other landmarks to guide our path. Call it cheating if you would like, but we were desperate after getting lost just trying to find a Chick-Fil-A off the highway.
ICAST was an angler’s Disneyland full of people passionate about all the things we care so much about. We could have spent days in there, but we knew the task at hand. We found Eazy at his booth with an empty chair, ready to shape us up. Graham went first with a buzzer straight to his head, then Joe. Our cuts must’ve been inspiring to the crowds walking by because a line quickly formed behind us with dudes ready to join the mullet fleet. Unpopular to our mom’s opinion, Eazy killed it.
Palm Beach to Miami
Feeling light, cool, and fresh from our new cuts from Eazy, we continued deeper south into Florida. Our next stop was set for West Palm Beach, where we would be staying with Joe’s sister. However, we had a few packages to pick up at the airport before we could settle in there. We picked up our good buddies Dave and Bennett, and Graham’s girlfriend Colleen, and surprised Joe’s sister with our unannounced guests. We had a big ole’ friends and family reunion down in West Palm, thanks Bella for being a great host!
It had been quite some time since we picked up a new toy on the trip, and Joe was adamant about getting a Hawaiian sling spear. We pulled the horns into a local dive shop and pulled out with a new spear and an 8” three prong paralyzer spear tip. Our idea with this new spear was to harvest a few mangrove snapper for dinner. We cruised over to the beach, threw on some masks, and then met our new buddy who would be accompanying us the rest of our Florida leg, Sargassum. Sargassum does not wear deodorant, and smells like boiled eggs and sulfur. We swam out off the beach anyways, with our minds still set on a mangrove snapper dinner. We dove around for an hour or so, saw no fish, and returned to the beach with only boardshorts full of Sargassum.
We packed up shop in West Palm, loaded our friends into the van, and set out on our next adventure, which was going to visit our college friend Aidan. Aidan had just moved down to Miami, and we had previously made plans to stay at his and get a taste of Miami’s nightlife. We ended up having too good of a time, and got a bonus taste of Miami’s “morninglife”, as we watched the sunrise on our walk back from downtown. Aidan, thanks for letting us raid your apartment, and showing us some proper Miami madness.
The Florida Keys
Restless and a tad haunted by our time in Miami, the idea of having a few days in the Keys was the ideal hangover cure. We paid a visit to Robbie's in Islamorada to feed and eye down our target species; the silver king, the tarpon. Jumping a tarpon and especially landing one is a feat itself, but without a boat we were going to have to take the DIY approach. We checked into our Airbnb on Duck Key, where we had access to the water and began making a plan. We mapped potential spots and dropped some cash on a few paddleboards that would give us a little more mobility on the water.
Before this trip had even begun, Joe had made clear that his mentality in the Keys would be cutthroat. No time wasted, all time focused on getting fish. And he stayed true to his word. He woke up on day one at sunrise, dropped his paddleboard in the water, and was finding rolling tarpon before 8 AM. By the time Graham had woken up, Joe had already landed the first tarpon of the trip. We got back on the water by noon, but it seemed the tarpon were hunkered down for the time being. Instead, we set out to find a spot to get some sun. We settled on making the drive south to Key West, with hopes of diving a beach right outside of the main town. However, upon arrival at this beach, we were greeted again by thick mats of sargassum covering the sand and water. The tarpon loved this stuff, but we didn’t. We opted instead for a stroll through Duval St., where the sightseeing was spectacular. Look left and you see an ex pirate with a parrot on his shoulder, look right and you see a shop owner chasing a rooster off his steps. We were scorching hot from walking around Key West all day, and shifted our focus to finding somewhere where we could take a dip. We had heard there was a bridge jump spot not too far north, in Sugar Loaf Key. We conned the van up that way, and spent a good two hours jumping the bridge, diving, and just floatin’ around. We had successfully cooled off.
At one point during the trip Joe went out to the van in search of some sun screen, but stumbled upon his previously bought spear instead. We had earlier located a school of mangrove snapper not too far from the house while tarpon fishing. Being how we had previously been eluded by the snapper, we thought it a good time to set out on the paddleboard for redemption. We dropped down below the surface, and managed to stick a few mangrove snapper just in time for dinner. We cleaned them up with a pocket knife in the backyard, cooked them inside, and boyyyy were they delicious.
While David and Joe were enjoying their catch, Graham and Colleen set out to search for tarpon eating under the dock lights. It didn’t take long to find them. You could hear the ‘sploosh’ from a hundred yards away and see the rolls shimmering across the green lights. Colleen served as Graham’s trolling motor, fighting the current while also keeping him in the perfect position to make a cast. From the first drift, it was obvious that these tarpon were hungry. Graham swung one under the dock and set into his first ever tarpon on the fly. He kept him tight through two aggressive jumps before losing the fight. They say jumping em’ is just as good as landing em’, and that was all Graham had to remind himself of. Props to Colleen for having the patience to keep paddling through the frustration of a week of tarpon fishing.
The Return to Miami
We definitely hadn’t had enough of the Keys, but it was time to pack it up and move on out. We headed North back to Miami and dropped our friends off at the airport. Our next order of business was set for the following morning at 5:30 a.m.. This time was given to us by Honson Lau, as a blast off time from the Black Point Marina in Miami. We finagled our rods through the hotel’s hallways, and began rigging up with tarpon and bonefish in mind. After what felt like a short nap, we woke up (a little bit late) and headed for the Marina. Honson greeted us there, and we set off on the hunt for some silver acrobats. It wasn’t long before Honson put us on some rolling fish, and we managed to jump a few. One of the tarpon we stuck decided it wanted to show off, hucking a gainer and shooting the fly right back at us. As a means of celebration for jumping a few of these fish, Honson pulled us up to a flat and whipped out a treasure chest of cigars. He quickly ran us through how rare these cigars were, and how he had acquired them. For this portion of the blog, we ask you to use your imagination and speculate how Honson came across these cigars. Anyways, we lit them up and enjoyed a few puffs before Capt. Lau pointed out a school of bonefish from the platform. With cigar in mouth and rod in hand, Joe shot a cast out to the edge of the school. Honson directed his retrieval, “tick, tick, big tick, let it sink”, then “SET”. The fish didn’t like the “SET” part too much and quickly had Joe looking at his backing. Cigars, bonefish, tarpon, and getting poled around by Capt. Honson Lau made for a pretty darn good morning. Thanks for the pole and the cigars Captain!
♫ ♪ Music, Please ♪ ♫
We've got thousands of miles to cover this summer and a whole lot of van time between adventures. If you've got a road trip anthem, hidden gem, or absolute heater we need to hear, toss it onto our collaborative Spotify playlist. We'll be listening.
