Let me tell you why old-timers still whisper about Cortez's flats... Up there at the northern tip of Sarasota Bay, you'll find this crusty little fishing village that's been kicking since the 1800s. Funny thing about Cortez - those shallow flats just kinda collect bull reds like it's their personal meeting spot. And don't even get me started on the seatrout... some years they're so thick you'd think they're getting paid to show up.

Now here's a spot most tourists miss - those mangrove islands with their deeper channels? Snook heaven. The way those linesiders tuck themselves in the roots still surprises me after 20 years. Actually, scratch that - the best snook action comes when the morning tide pushes shrimp into those channels.

Speaking of fish magnets, Long Bar's where the real magic happens. That ancient sandbar splits the bay, and man... when the water's clear (which is most days), you can sight-fish for reds, trout, and the occasional tarpon like you're playing some kinda aquatic video game. Last season I watched a rookie land a 100-pounder right near there - fish fought like it had a personal vendetta.

Head south when the summer rains start and you'll find Roberts Bay and them other sheltered spots. Perfect when the wind's being a jerk. Mostly you're looking at snook, redfish, the usual suspects... but wait, did I mention the baby tarpon? Some years they show up earlier, those little acrobats. Used to be more redfish before that cold snap a few winters back, but the trout fishing's kinda made up for it.

Main players out here:

Bull reds that'll bend your rod double
Seatrout that can't resist a well-placed fly
And those silver kings... nothing gets your heart pounding like a tarpon exploding on the surface

Estuarine ecosystems, man. They're like nature's slot machines - you never know exactly what you'll get, but the payoff's always worth it.