The Best Day Ever!
By Capt. Chip Owen
This was
As usual, I was already hooked up to my Maverick and ready to go. All that was left to do was to ice the on
board cooler, chock the push pole, and head for the Cracker Barrel at I-95 and
S.R. 16. This is an every morning occurrence.
As I enjoyed my fake eggs and grits, the morning began dawning with a dark grey
and stormy sky to the south; the direction I was heading. The tide and moon was premier for the
location that I was destined for. I was
apprehensive about fishing a Sunday with all the week-enders, but what the
hell, I was off! As I drove south on
I-95 I thought that if it were possible, I really should be sleeping in. Yea, right, maybe next January.
The big winter schools of redfish had broken up several weeks ago so the best I
could hope to see was a onesie twosie push. There was no wind at all. The cloud
cover had combined with the early hour, and I knew there was no way that I
could see down into the water.
I put in at Devils Elbow fish camp and headed south to a favorite access point
to Pellicer Creek's delta area. The tide was extra low on this, a 3/4 waning
moon. I couldn't get across the sand bar
here, so I staked out the Master Angler and bailed over board to wade. As I approached a favorite spot on the flat with
scattered oyster shells, I spotted several huge schools of redfish humping up
ahead of me. I found myself suddenly
very hyper, wishing that I had a charter to share this with. I swear I enjoy the challenge of putting
others on fish MORE than fishing myself!
As I crept slowly ahead towards the now tailing reds, the thought occurred to
me of the countless times that I thought I had figured everything right and had
never even seen a fish. God gave these
marvelous creatures’ fins and tails and we do not pen them up like fish in
trout pools. They can go where they
want, when they please. Well, my
friends, today they wanted to be right where I was! Unbeknowing to me, this was
to be the very best day thus far in my fly-fishing career. I've had many different days of 14 redfish on
a fly in a matter of the right hours, but I was soon to top that record.
I slowly waded to within range and cut loose with the first cast. Throwing my
favorite original fly; a "Red Chipper", I was let down. Sometimes a seemingly perfect cast goes
unnoticed. Damn!
The fish were slowly moving away; not spooked, but somehow alerted. Second
cast, third cast; again nothing. I
decided that I had to get closer. I kept
casting as I slowly drew more near to these ever calming redfish.
The next cast connected. It resulted in the smallest red of the day, only 4.25
lbs. on my certified Boga Grip. From then on for the next few hours, I seldom
had a cast WITHOUT a fish! I lost count of the number of hooked up back to back
casts with a fish and I didn't stop shaking for over three hours. Best in a row was 8 fish in 9 casts! I kept thinking, "Take some pictures of
all the tails!" But I didn't, I
just kept shaking and catching Reds!
They ran towards me several times and actually boinked into me three
times with one of them cruising right between my legs! In a matter of a few hours, I had enjoyed
seeing over 500 redfish tails! The just
arrived thermocline had fooled these fish into thinking that it was once again
winter and time to school up! At least
that’s my best guess. Sometimes they
appear to be huddled up so tightly together as if they’re trying to get warm!
So, my friends, this was indeed a day to remember, one that I had only dreamt
of before, the total was 18 Redfish on a fly in three hours. This doesn’t include a few lost fish that
managed to get off too early with a Palm Beach Release. Twelve of them on my fly and the remainder on
a gold Dupree spoon fly. The largest was
certified back at the fish camp at 7.3 lbs.
The next day, I took
© 2002 Capt. Chip Owen
captainchipowen.com