Horn Island

When I moved down to Mississippi almost three years ago, I quickly developed two main goals in terms of outdoor pursuits. Number one was to figure out how to sightfish for redfish. Number two was to kayak to one of the barrier islands.

Five barrier islands grace the relatively short coastline of Mississippi. They are Petit Bois, Horn, East Ship, West Ship, and Cat. Horn Island is considered to be the prize of the Mississippi barrier islands due to its large size, tidal lagoons, numerous trees, and beautiful beaches. There are barrier islands all along the Gulf of Mexico, but the Mississippi barrier islands are special because they are almost completely undeveloped. This is probably due to the fact that they are further offshore than most Gulf barrier islands, but for whatever reason, there are no bridges to the islands, there are very few man-made structures, and all except Cat are completely within the Gulf Islands National Seashore. So while there are no condos, beach houses, or high rises to attract tourists, the lack of development, in my opinion, makes the islands much more special.

Horn Island lies near the cities of Gautier and Ocean Springs, ranging from 6 to 10 miles directly south of the coast. The Mississippi Sound in between is a large, shallow body of water where waves can kick up in a relatively short period of time, making it a serious open water paddle. Most people look at me funny when I say anything about paddling out to Horn. Fortunately, I found a friend who is just as crazy as I am!

The trees of Horn Island are just visible above the pelicans - roughly 7 miles from our launch point

We planned to meet at our launching point at 6:00 am Saturday morning. Due to alarm clock operating error, I didn't show up till 6:15, and on top of that, I had to run back for my life jacket! Life jackets are somewhat important for extreme kayaking expeditions... We ended up leaving at 7:00 and some fairly large waves awaited us. I was very glad for my sprayskirt and waterproof hatches. Despite the waves, our trip was uneventful, and we paddled about six miles across and then four more miles down to the west end of the island where we camped.

Did I mention the fishing is good? Right, so I'd actually been to Horn once before, and this happened. I did some fishing this time around too. The only luck I had was on a sand flat with some patches of grass on the Sound side. Strangely, I caught three different types of fish standing in almost the same place over the course of about an hour.

Redfish, sheepshead, speckled trout. Pretty cool to catch all three in the same place. That was the extent of my fishing luck, and sadly I caught them too early in the day to be cooked for dinner. Despite my tendency to release fish, I was hoping to cook one up on this trip.

The west tip of the island where we camped is very popular due to its access to both the Gulf and Sound and the fact that the mosquitoes, gnats, and flies that thrive on Horn tend to be less of a problem on the treeless tips. The downside is that with no trees and only short dunes, the tips are much less scenic compared to the middle. Regardless, boats were parked all along the tip during the day, but most left around 6:00 pm leaving us in relative peace, just a couple other groups spread out along the shoreline for the night.

These short dunes are all that separate the Sound from the Gulf at this point.

Lantern light and  Biloxi in the distance

No trees on the west tip - helps keep the bugs away

Morning brought a beautiful sunrise, but swarms of gnats sent me scurrying back into my tent. When I emerged for a second time, my mosquito head netting slowed the gnats down but was too coarse to keep them out completely. Eventually the wind picked up and we were left in peace.

With the direction of the wind, we were going to have to fight it all the way back to our launching point, so we got an early start to our 8 mile journey. It was a long three hours of steady paddling, but we made it back early Sunday afternoon, exhausted, but with a feeling of accomplishment.

Kayaking to Round Island

This weekend a friend and I kayaked to an island in the middle of the Mississippi Sound called Round Island. This was a practice trip for our ultimate goal of kayaking to Horn Island, and as such, I loaded up the kayak with water and camping supplies to get used the added weight.

Extra paddle, bilge pump, paddle float, trail mix, approaching our destination

Round Island is about 4 miles south of Pascagoula, halfway to the barrier islands of Horn and Petit Bois. A trip from Pascagoula to Round and back is essentially the equivalent of a one way trip to Horn, making it an ideal warm up.

Royal Terns?

The island is very beautiful with plenty of vegetation: orange and white flowers in bloom, numerous palmettos, grasses, shrubs, and trees. Most of the trees, however, are dead or dying, probably due to continual erosion - many of the dead trees are sticking out of the water just a few feet from the shoreline.

The island is notable for the lighthouse that once operated there. The keeper's house was destroyed in Hurricane Camille in 1969, and Hurricane Katrina finished off the lighthouse itself in 2005.

We fought the wind and the waves on the way out, but relaxed and even put up my sprayskirt as a sail on the way back. We did roughly 10.5 miles on the day and are now ready for the real thing!

Sprayskirt not necessary today... as a sprayskirt that is

Heading North

With my annual migration back to Michigan approaching, I had to make one more trip out on the bayou. Aaron and I headed out on an extremely low tide, expecting superb sight fishing conditions. We found them... for about 30 minutes. We each landed one nice red a piece, and I completely blew a perfectly wonderful chance where I had three redfish feeding right in front of me. After that I paddled around for about 4 hours and only had one more chance where I managed to pull the fly out of a fish's mouth. Bummer. A relatively uneventful day by our recent redfishing standards.

To shake things up I used my 6 wt rod on this trip instead of my usual 8 wt which was a fun challenge. It was pretty difficult to make the quick, line shooting casts required for successful sight fishing. I need a little more practice, but I'm getting there. The goal is to eventually land a redfish on my other 6 wt, a short fiberglass rod. I took it out once earlier this year and was completely humiliated...

I also gave my new Lamson Konic reel its first workout on something other than a hardhead catfish. It performed flawlessly, and its drag is by far the smoothest of any reel I own. I like it.

I haven't seen any alligators on my most recent outings, but the wife and I saw several on a kayaking expedition a few weeks ago before they went dormant, including this one which we found sleeping.

Nice shot honey!

 On our next kayaking expedition, I finally got to show her what redfishing is all about. And she took some great pictures!

In the plans for my trip up north is a repeat of last year's grouse hunting trip. My buddy Nick has once again invited friends to his family's luxurious hunting camp, and maybe this time I'll finally shoot something. Hopefully I'll be back next year with a report on that.

Merry Christmas!

Into the Backing

This has been a good year for my reels. I've spent more time listening to my drag than all of my fishing years combined. A big black drum, a few larger than average redfish, and one large Yellowstone Cutthroat all had me wondering at one point if they would make it to my backing. It never quite happened; they made it within a few wraps, but I always managed to start winning the tug-o-war at that point. This weekend I finally reached that milestone.

This weekend, two friends and I made the journey to the original 'secret spot' for a little bit of redfishing. The tides were super low due to a strong north wind and were supposed to be on the rise throughout the afternoon.

When we arrived, the mud flats I usually fish were bare, but the channels were full of redfish. Most were laid up, holding a position in the current, which was surprisingly still headed out. For the first part of the morning, I had good luck spotting fish, and I quickly hooked up with a good sized fish.  The fish pulled me toward the flat and beached me, then he took off down the channel swimming with the current. The line just started peeling off.  Every time I thought I had stopped his run, it started up again. I glanced down to see how much line I had left and watched as fly line turned into backing. I realized I was not slowing him down and decided I needed to make a move. Holding the rod high with one arm, I stabbed my paddle into the mud and heaved myself forward. As soon as I was free, I started gaining ground rapidly.  A few more minutes and I was holding this beauty in my hands.

Not one of my largest redfish, but certainly a memorable one. Funny that the first fish to reach my backing was of average size. After releasing this guy, I had trouble finding more fish. I don't think it helped that we had three kayaks paddling around in a small, shallow bayou.  So I paddled back to the main branch and started my way up a different bayou.  I don't know what made the difference, maybe the direction from which I was coming or the angle of the sun, but I no longer could spot fish. There were still a lot of fish present - I spooked several at very close range, one of which bumped into my kayak while attempting to escape. I eventually beached myself and just watched for any sign of movement. After a few minutes I noticed a disturbance at the edge of my casting range. I made a cast and retrieved my fly which had collected some debris. After pulling the debris off my fly I looked up to see the back of a redfish 10 feet in front of me. Thinking quickly, I literally tossed my fly with my left hand, and it landed within a foot of his mouth. He immediately ate, and I awkwardly attempted to set the hook amidst the chaos. It didn't feel like a solid hookset, but there was nothing to do as he made a screaming run away from me. This one felt like the most powerful fish I hooked up with on the day. Unfortunately he managed to shake free.

Returning to the main branch, I found my friend Jason pulling in redfish after redfish out of the deep hole at the mouth of several bayous. He landed 18 on the day! It seems that on the low tide, all the redfish that usually inhabit the mudflats were forced out. Tempted by these adverse tactics, I began blind casting and ended up picking up three redfish, including one nice one.

My friend Aaron also had a good day, landing several good fish - all of them by sight fishing. He didn't need to resort to adverse tactics! It was another great day on the bayou. The water never rose high enough to cover the flats like I had expected, but we found fish anyway. I learn something new every time I go. We stayed at the mouth until it started getting dark and headed back to the launch amidst a beautiful sunset.

Red-emption

Corny title, I know.  Two weekends ago, I finally got out on the kayak to do some sightfishing.  Due to a late start and the increasingly earlier sunset, I only had about an hour to fish by the time I actually paddled to my spot.  Wouldn't you know I saw more feeding redfish than I've ever seen in my life.  There were multiple occasions where I could see three crawlers at the same time.  It was insane.  The most insane part?  I didn't catch any.  I had one eat, and a bad hook set resulted in a spit hook.  It was a combination of bad luck, bad casting, and some spoiled fish that wouldn't eat anything unless it bonked them on the nose.  I ended up leaving the fish, still crawling in mere inches of water, in order to get back to the launch with some daylight left.

The missed redfish haunted me all week.  I knew what I had to do to treat my condition.  I had to catch a redfish.

My buddy Aaron and I checked out the tides and decided to meet up Sunday morning.  The predicted tide looked decent, but I was slightly concerned that it wasn't quite low enough.  On my way to the launch, my fears were quickly allayed and reversed!  A large area of marsh that is typically underwater lay completely exposed, a small channel of water running through the mud.  I realized that the strong north wind that had been blowing all weekend was producing, in essence, the opposite of a storm surge - probably a familiar concept for most coastal fisherman, but new to me.  With the water level down at least a foot from predicted levels, we were forced to abandon our planned destination and opted to paddle into a bayou we'd never explored.

With our typical sightfishing locations seeing less than optimal conditions (no water...), this place was experiencing perfect conditions.  We immediately spotted redfish crawling along the bank, squirming in what is typically more than a foot of water but was now only a few inches.  I spotted one approaching casting range on my right.  It took me a few casts to get the fly close enough, but my third cast landed a picture perfect three inches in front of his face.  No hesitation: fish on!

Did I mention it was cold?  By Mississippi standards anyway...

After a spirited fight, Aaron snapped a picture for me, and then we split up and went into full redfish hunting mode.  In a few minutes I saw another redfish crawling in some extremely skinny water across a sand bar from me.  I paddled straight for it, conveniently beaching myself on the sand bar.  Fish #2!

I kept heading further up the bayou, and I kept seeing fish!  I had one coming straight for me that I spooked, but in a matter of seconds, I spotted the silhouette of another fish (or possibly the same one) just under the surface.  The water was clear enough to allow limited visibility even from a kayak.  The nicest red of the day ate on the first cast.

 

He/she was particularly fat presumably from the huge amount of shrimp that were in the bayou.  In fact, you could tell when a redfish was on the move because a line of shrimp would jump out of the water wherever the fish swam.

After that I spotted a couple more fish, and lost one after a brief battle.  From there the action cooled down and we called it a day.  And a great day it was.

Be sure to check out Aaron's blog as he's got a couple recent posts up, including his report on this trip.

Adventures in Gator Country

A couple weeks ago my buddy and I spent an evening on the kayaks half-heartedly casting despite less than ideal conditions.  We stupidly launched in the Sound only to realize it was quite rough and fishing would be just about impossible, especially for me with my skinny kayak and fly rod.  So we took shelter in the closest bayou where I've never had any luck catching anything, but at least we could cast without being in danger of capsizing.  We cruised through the bayou and my buddy pulled up next to the mouth of a tiny creek or ditch, really just a gap in the marsh grass with a couple inches of water over some mud.  After making a few casts from that spot he snagged a tree and paddled over to retrieve his lure; I pulled up to where he had been.  It was then that I heard something move.  Something back in that tiny creek.  Something large.  Something very close.  It was almost like a twitch.  I had about one second to analyze the sound when all hell broke loose.

Now, learning the sounds of spooked animals here in Mississippi has been a slow progression.  I can remember the first few times I spooked small mullet in shallow water.  There must be redfish here!  Then I actually spooked a good-sized redfish and just about jumped out of my kayak.  Never content to make a mistake only once, I once stated that a spooked redfish can be so explosive, it sounds more like a gator.  I need to stop saying things like that!

It was like a grenade exploded back in that little ditch (here I go again).  A 3 ft high wall of mud was headed my way as strange sounds came out my mouth and I paddled backwards like a madman.  In a matter of seconds, it was over, with only a wave sloshing back and forth indicating the craziness that just occurred.  But then I heard my buddy freaking out, and he snapped his line out of the bush and paddled back to me as the water boiled beneath him.  Neither of us actually saw an alligator the whole time.

After taking a few moments to settle down, we realized what had happened.  I startled an alligator who was chilling in the small creek.  Realizing he was nearly cornered, he freaked out and ran/swam out of there as fast as he could, probably going underneath the bow of my kayak.  His hasty exit resulted in a lot of mud being flung into the air.  He then searched for another usual hang-out spot.  Coincidentally, the bush my buddy was snagged on was right next to another small creek and, even more telling, an area of matted down grass.  So the alligator headed over to his usual hang-out only to find another kayak, and he freaked out again.  Frightening for us, certainly, but the alligator probably thought he was being hunted! 

The lesson learned here is to know alligator habitat and keep close watch when paddling through alligator territory, avoiding likely hide-outs such as matted grass and small creeks.  I've noticed that I see the most alligators in small bayous that have trees or shrubs bordering them and are out of the way of boat traffic.  Kayaks are great for fishing because they are very stealthy, but that also allows kayakers to sneak up on alligators unnoticed.  If you really want to avoid alligators, make a lot of noise; they'll get out of your way.

Epic Sightfishing - Sunday

Saturday night found my buddy and me anxiously preparing flies for a highly anticipated trip to the "new spot" the next morning.  My buddy tied up some shrimp and crab patterns.  I attempted to recreate the gurglers I had seen in topwater redfish videos.  To that end, I went to Walmart and found some sheets of craft foam that looked like just the ticket.  The lady at the checkout asked what I was doing with the foam, and I replied, "making fishing lures."  She laughed and said, "Get down with your bad self." 

We got down with our bad selfs bright and early Sunday morning.  We booked it from the launch as the place is a multi-mile paddle.  I couldn't wait to show off the new spot and see if the magic would repeat itself.  Long story short, it did.

Within minutes of arriving, I saw several tailing redfish.  I got the attention of one of them and was rewarded with a huge explosion.  I proceeded to break off on the hookset.  ASlkdfjiwoefj!  Not only was I angry about losing the fish, but also about already losing one of the gurglers I had tied the night before.  Crazily, a few minutes later I spotted something small and red floating on the surface of the water.  It looked like a piece of foam.  It looked like a gurgler.  It was my gurgler!  

Meanwhile, my buddy spotted a fish with its back out of the water.  HIs new shrimp pattern was just the ticket.  Redfish on!

The redfish in this bayou are extremely dark compared to all other redfish I've seen.  I absolutely love how their appearance varies based on habitat.  The redfish I've caught out at the barrier islands and near the coast tend to be more pale and silvery in color.  Fish caught in other sections of the marsh tend to have a beautiful gold color.  These ones are more of a dark bronze.  It must have something to do with the clear water and dark, weedy bottom, but I can't say for sure.

The day continued with lots of action.  We saw tails, backs, and wakes galore.  I must have had 5 hits and no hook ups.  Setting the hook while popper or gurgler fishing can be tough.  With a Clouser, I often just strip once to twitch the fly and then watch the fish to suck it down before strip setting.  However, with a popper, the fish will often hit and miss and you have to keep the fly in the strike zone as well as keep stripping to continue the action.  This can make timing the strip set very awkward.  With the first fish of the day, I felt the take on one strip and tried to set it with another one.  This was too late as he was already bolting with fly in his mouth - an easy way to snap your tippet.  Another time I got too excited and lifted the rod like I was trout fishing.  This pulled the fly out of the strike zone and didn't give the fish a second chance.  Even when I didn't screw up, the fish still missed.  But I knew it was only a matter of time.  

Unfortunately, time was against me.  I had arranged to watch the Wimbledon final with a friend in the afternoon.  With less than 30 minutes before I had to start paddling back, I spotted a wake.  It was headed diagonally toward me.  My cast wasn't perfect - it landed several feet in front of him - but I knew right away he was on to it.  Strip, strip, strip, strip, WHAM!  Fish on!

It was another big one.  He took me on a journey, weaving in and out of patches of grass.  Several times he propelled my kayak into the grass at the edge of the marsh.  But eventually, I brought him in.  Sweet victory. 

This one was 27" - my 3rd largest of the year.

Epic Sightfishing - Saturday

I tied on the popper and started paddling around looking for tails.  I spotted one and approached.  The popper landed directly in front of it - no change in behavior.  The redfish slowly meandered across my field of vision.  I put the popper in front of him again.  Nothing.  The tail changed in direction and I could tell that it was now headed away from me.  Against my better judgment, I cast the popper all the way over the fish and popped it right back over his head.  This time I watched as the fish rose up to the surface, slowly turned around, and started following the fly.  In slow motion, his giant head bulged the surface of the water like a submarine, and in one mighty explosion, he attacked the fly.  He missed, but in a matter of seconds, my fishing life was changed forever.  Never have I experienced such a rush.

Saturday morning produced several moments like this.  In the end, I only managed to hook one fish.  But it was a big one.  I remember saying in a previous post that a 24" redfish is probably the biggest you'll find in the marsh this time of year.  Haha what a joke.  This guy was 29".

Let me just take a moment to complain about the size of fish I've been catching recently.  Its become increasingly difficult to take quality pictures of these fish.  Simply holding the camera in front of my face like normal doesn't allow me to fit the whole fish in the picture.

I have to either hold the camera over my head...

or off to the side of my head.

I know, life is rough...

I literally stopped fishing at this point and just soaked up the moment.  The fish were still there, but I didn't care.  I got out some water and snacks, and it wasn't till a tail popped up 10 ft to my left that I couldn't resist and scrambled to get my rod out again.  That one got away, and I paddled back to the launch after the activity cooled off.

The cause of this epic topwater sightfishing is that I finally made the decision to give the "secret spot" a rest and try another place that I'd been scoping out via google earth.  It turns out this new spot is even better.  I hadn't seen a tailing fish since last November, but this weekend I saw many, many tailing redfish.  I guess there is just something about this spot that encourages it.  The new spot is unlike anywhere I've paddled on the coast.   Deep, deep, into the marsh, the water is clear, and the bottom is covered in weeds.  All of the marshy places I've fished before in Mississippi have had fairly mirky water with bare mud bottoms.  The weeds are what prompted a switch from my trusty old Clouser minnow to a small popper - the only thing high enough to not get tangled.

I've watched videos of redfish taking topwater flies (like this one from R.A. Beattie) but up to this point I'd never experienced it myself.  I even recall a local fly fisherman telling me that redfish don't feed on the top as their mouths are designed to feed on the bottom.  Now that I've experienced it myself, I can truly say that fishing for redfish on the surface is the most exciting fishing I've ever done.  It might not be the most effective method - they seem to miss a lot - but I'll gladly trade a few redfish brought to hand for the adrenaline rush of a big red chasing a topwater fly.

I could go on and on about this spot, but I'm going to save that for another post.  After all, I went there on Sunday too!