Saturday, January 22, 2011

Still on the winter pattern, still fishing with corkeys.

 

As much as you or I might fish. 90% of catching fish is being in the right spot. There are more than one "right spots" in any given area usually. But some are better than others and some are better for different tactics. The tactics being applied in the area we have been fishing are slow sinking subsurface plugs. The water depth where we were fishing was about 3 feet deep and with a water temp that was 51 deg when we arrived and about 54 when we left. It was a cold wade fo sho. The wind was constant and ranging anywhere from 10 -20 mph from the SE. Wind and cold help keep people away and so does NFL playoff games. Like deer season, it keeps those away that might get cabin fever, leave their couch, and decide to cut your wade off. The biggest advantage on cold days might be where you fish but it can also be getting an earlier start than the competition. It might be damn cold, but its not steel head fishing in 35 deg rain any if your lucky you could be fishing for more than one big bite. Dress for the morning chill, bring a nice canteen of hot coffee( that's really the secret) and don't be scared to sit and observe when you arrive at your desired location. It always takes a while to get ready to fish with unpacking lure boxes, rods, line, etc. This is where the hot drink comes into play. For someone who isn't getting out of the boat there is no threat of cold,  your own threshold is your only limit. You can layer ALOT, with waders on theres only so much you can put on before one of your nuts has its circulation cut off everytime you get in water too deep. Hell I think people freeze their asses off more when they power all over the place looking for fish. 

Anyways. We got lucky again and caught some nice fish. Dad caught a five pound trout and I caught a 25" redfish that went 7 1/4 on my boga. That fish looked like a freak. Like ralphie may the redfish. Big.I kept a few to eat and we lot the rest go. 

With the day being overcast my best producer was the 808 fatboy. I caught a few on a modified pearl/purple also. The retrieve with such chilly temps was a frozen walk the dog. Just working it fast enough to keep it off the shell but without so much aggressive twitches. They would just pick it up and be there.One of those days where the bite is the mystery and the next tacoed bait could have been the next king dingaling. Still havent broken the 5 lb mark for trout this year, but we have caught five of them. Just need a little luck mixed in for the bigger fish. 

We were listening to the fishing show in the morning on the way to the ramp. Lots of big fish caught the day before. Lots of big fish, lots of fishermen. If only I could fish on weekdays more often. Its a sad day when you realize you could get thrown in with the weekend warrior types. Although weekend or not I still take the one bag and 2 rods. I dont overdo it but I fit the criteria. We might fish too hard. But Its something to do to get a little exercise.



Monday, January 3, 2011

And on the third day,

So this is how it was from DeMatt on Vimeo.


This year has started on the right note for sure. Another typical low tide. Too low to fish the norm. Mud shell shore. Trout Green. When probing our first area, at the end of a 50 yard wade dad turns to get the boat and pick me up. (I am so lucky, I try to offer as much as he will let me to do unspoken fishing duties) While pushing forward at the bend of the shore through the normal muddy half moon where, on an outgoing with higher tides in the evening/afternoon you can stand on and fall off into some large reds and trout... I got a solid thump.I landed the 23" 3 1/2 pounder and put that bitch on my stringer. I wanted trout gumbo. Got it.

I made about 4 more casts in the same area still pushing forward towards the gulf and nothing. Then, just as the gasoline fumes from the 2 cycle smelled wonderfully(no joke) I got another nose. Dad saw me yank. "So, what do you want to do"? Well, this fish was not a loner now. Lets push another 50 yards. Drop anchor, side by side, search. It took another 30 yards before the next fish. Our mud trails behind us merging at the ends and freshly separated at the foot joined with little winter floaty turd-let moss balls. A solid thump and a solid fish. A 5 pound trout. Corky, head first nose in throat. Easy hook out, a few pics and yays and released. Next cast, another 5 pound trout escapes after the third missed boga grab. No playing on a gorilla trout. Straight to the hand pinned on waders with thumb and pointer grip of death. Just a fiver. Play and laugh. Next 3-4 trout 18-20" then all goes silent. We fish for 15 more minutes then slowly move up searching. Dad hooks and lands a red in the 26 or 7" range. Nothing after, push forward. No more trout. I got desperate and switched to the broken back I had so much luck on before with similar conditions and pulled an immediate trout about 19" but the "Oh shit yeah! I told you this shit was the shit"! was donezo in a minute.

We fish for another hour without a look but refuse to break ranks because we were being eye fucked by drifters and the like. Finally I had to take a leak so bad I couldn't take it any longer. I slid up into the shallows and relieved myself and during the journey noticed some flicking bait and the nearly unchanged depth from the water we were fishing to the drop near shore. I let a long cast fly down the drop with a newly tied fatboy and started my retrieve. about 1/4 of the way in I thought I detected a subtle tap but kept with the retrieve. Then three rod lifts and a little panic reeling later I dredged up a nice sweet meat 21" red. There were a couple more to follow and back to the boat to get a bite and take a break before the incoming.

That's how the first half went. Pretty amazing. We went on to make a power wade through 1/2 the original with only one red landed. Then we changed locations and caught 7-8 nice eater fish on devils and gamblers. After that a mean looking cloud line and a daughter that needed pick up spurred the burn off before the big evening bite. Bummer because there were some nice fish in the first area and it wouldn't be out of the question to assume that we could have landed a few with a good warm incoming on our usual sand hump surrounded by mud and shell. Oh there are days ahead saved for greater spoils. Out.


 All the same fish. Trout gumbo. I cant get enough of these kind of pictures.


                                         Turd-let's and good water.


the mighty bend indeed
                                                      Scrappers.
                                                    Fiver love.