Any Day Now

 I realized the other day that I haven't landed a fish since December. Just when I was getting cocky, winter came and smacked me in the face. Winter is an interesting time for the sightfishing specialist. The fish are much less active - I saw no backing, no tailing, and few wakes out in the kayak this winter. At the same time, local fly fishermen say winter is the best time for sightfishing. What gives? What gives is that they have boats and I, up until recently, didn't. Winter brings clearer water to the Mississippi Gulf Coast, allowing fisherman in boats to spot redfish easier but making no difference for kayakers, who are so low to the water. That's all about to change as the weather is warming up. I think the water clarity of winter is gone for the year (if it ever existed) but I, for one, am excited to start seeing some active redfish again. Last year my first really good day of redfishing was in mid-May, so I may be jumping the gun a little.  But I am sooo ready.  I spent several hours on Sunday searching fruitlessly for active redfish from the kayak. It just hasn't happened yet, but with the temperatures creeping up, it could be any day now.

Just to give an update on my boat, I've taken it out three times since I got it. The first time was all about learning. I learned how to operate my outboard. I learned that some of my favorite places are really shallow. I learned that my boat can't handle 2 full grown men standing near the stern. I learned that the Mississippi Sound is not the best place for my boat unless it is flat as a pancake. I learned that the bilge pump works. Yeah, it was interesting outing, and we barely fished, but that's okay, because... I learned a lot.  The second outing went much smoother - Mrs. Michissippi and I went for a cruise and I practiced poling but again didn't fish much. I took it out a third time by myself and just did some exploring. I'm hoping to finally take the boat on a serious fishing expedition as soon as the weather and my schedule line up.

Despite the lack of fish, I've spent some beautiful days on the water recently, and here are some pictures.

B O A T

After 2 years on my kayak, I finally upgraded to a boat.  I perused microskiff.com for months until this guy popped up and I jumped on it, picking it up last weekend.

It's a mere 14 ft long (that's actually shorter than my kayak!) and should only draft a few inches so I'm going to be fishing in similar places as my kayak, but I see several large benefits.

• I'll be able to spend more time fishing instead of spending half my time paddling to spots. 
• I'll be able to take someone with me and guide them onto fish.  
• I'm really hoping the higher vantage point will help me spot fish, particularly in the cold months when the fish aren't so active.
• Sitting in a kayak for hours gets really uncomfortable.

Pretty much it's going to be a redfish machine.

Took it out briefly this past week and practiced poling, which by the way takes some getting used to.  Its slightly counter intuitive.  Next time I go out I'll take some better pictures, hopefully some fish as well.

A New Goal

Its been a rough start to my goal of catching fish other than redfish. Ever since Alex over at The Flying Kayak posted about catching false albacore (also known as little tunny or bonito), I've been very interested in giving it a try. I got my chance a couple weekends ago on a trip to Pensacola, but despite spending long hours at the beach, my friend and I never even saw any False Albacore. My only action was a pair of fish - I'm guessing reds or black drum - that ignored my fly and spooked after I spotted them in waist deep water. It was rough putting in that much effort without even finding any fish, but I know it'll pay off another time.  Besides, it really wasn't that rough looking at this water in the middle of winter.

One of the other fish I've been thinking about is the tripletail. Tripletail like to hang out under floating objects such as crab trap floats and eat shrimp (at least from what I've read or been told). One of the methods I've heard is to use a shrimp pattern under a foam indicator (like for trout) in order to keep the fly high in the water column. Last summer I got the opportunity to see local fishing guide Rick Lauman talk about fly fishing for tripletail at a HOSSFLY meeting (HOSSFLY is the Historic Ocean Springs Saltwater Fly Fishing Club - I am a not very active member). Instead of using an indicator to keep the fly up, he ties a neutrally buoyant shrimp pattern.  I wish I would've taken better notes, but I've begun attempting my own neutrally buoyant shrimp fly.

Not the prettiest fly in the world...

The body is made of craft foam, and I tied part of a paper clip to the shank to add some weight. Then  I used sili legs instead of the traditional hackle. Testing it in a glass of water, it has suspended a couple inches below the surface although much more buoyant at the tail than at the head.  I'll have to experiment a little more to get it level and slightly deeper.  Fortunately, tripletail don't move inshore until the spring so I've got some time.

Fish of 2012

 

I had a great year of fishing in 2012 so I thought I'd share my most memorable fish of the year. Here they are:

Black drum caught on Horn Island while blind casting. Hours of fishing with one huge fish to show for it.

24 inch redfish sight-fished from the kayak on one of my first good days of redfishing.  It was a big one for me at the time, and the overall outing was simply amazing.

A week after my buddy landed a big red underneath the birds, I played copy cat and caught this 29 inch redfish under the birds in the Mississippi Sound from my kayak.

A fat, 29 inch redfish caught on a popper on the revelatory day when I discovered topwater redfishing.

Another good redfish caught the very next day on a gurgler tied the night before.

My one and only Yellowstone cutthroat trout. I was oh so close to landing my biggest trout ever later in the afternoon.

First fish to reach the backing!

As you can see, I developed a slight obsession for redfish over the past year, and this obsession pretty much blocked out all other kinds of fishing. This was the year I finally figured out how to catch them on a regular basis, and I can’t remember the last time I made plans to target a different species. I do think the obsession is dying down as lately I've been having some impure thoughts, that is, thoughts of other fish...

Another thing I notice when reviewing these pictures is a distinct lack of the Mich aspect of MICH-issippi. I did not even wet a line in Michigan in 2012. This makes me sad, and I hope it never happens again.

Goals for 2013? Catch a BIG redfish. I’ve caught lots of nice redfish, but no truly big ones. I’d also like to catch some new species besides redfish, maybe false albacore, pompano, jack crevalle, or tripletail. Nothing against redfish - I still love them - but after a year of redfishing, its time to try something different.

Worst Hunter Ever

All I could think about as I looked at the small, empty hole in my shotgun was, 'Wow, I must be the worst hunter ever.' The hole was the former location of a pin that holds the trigger mechanism in place. It had been loose in the past, but I thought I had fixed the problem several months ago. Something must have shifted when I fired the gun.

Which brings me back to my original point. Worst hunter ever. The missing pin was the end of a morning of failure. I arrived early to camp and decided to go on a brief hunt before my friend Nick arrived. Following the instructions of the only neighbor in the area, I headed down a snowy two-track to a certain patch of woods where he had flushed grouse on a recent walk. It was cold, and I briefly put my trigger hand in my pocket. I swear grouse can sense when you are not ready. As if on cue, a grouse flushed from my left, crossing over the open space of the two track into the woods on the right.  I belatedly fired through the trees after the bird and predictably missed. What a golden opportunity! Quickly another grouse flushed, this time on the right, and flew through the trees without giving me a chance to shoot. Why am I always surprised by a second flush? I constantly remind myself that grouse flush in groups, but somehow I am never ready. Finally, a third grouse flushed from my left and flew down the two track behind me. This time I had a clear shot, but in the time it took for me to turn around and aim the bird had put considerable distance between us, and I missed again.

Wow. Not 100 yds down the trail and I had already flushed three grouse, shooting at and missing two of them. I hadn't even realized I was hunting yet until the first bird flew. Frustrated but encouraged, I found some grouse tracks and followed them to no avail before returning to camp as Nick and his father and brother arrived.

After regaling them with my story, getting the wood stove going, and generally setting up camp, we set off in a line through the woods. Wouldn't you know we never saw or heard any trace of a grouse for the rest of the day despite spending almost every daylight hour on the hunt - a far cry from the abundant activity of previous years when we heard flushes every 15 minutes, and grouse tracks were so numerous there was no point in following them.


To sum up: three grouse flushed and missed in the first five minutes, hours of walking through brush without even a trace of a grouse, and one broken gun. Sounds like a miserable day, but somehow I thoroughly enjoyed it. The northern Michigan woods is a beautiful landscape - one that I don't get the chance to experience much these days. Grouse hunting is really just hiking with a purpose. And I like hiking even without a purpose, particularly with friends. One day maybe I'll take hunting a little more seriously, but for now I'm satisfied with being the worst hunter ever. Besides, I managed to fix my gun for a whopping $7.

A big thanks to Nick and his family for inviting me to their camp again. I can honestly say that the camp and surrounding woods is one of my favorite places in the world.

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.