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

The Islands

I had forgotten how wonderful the Mississippi barrier islands can be. My parents visited two weekends ago and we managed a trip on the ferry out to West Ship Island. We toured the fort and brought a picnic lunch. And of course I did some fishing. The island has a rich history and rich marine life. I'll let the pictures do the talking.

The only needlefish I've ever managed to hook

Non-stop speckled trout action with a croaker, needlefish, and hardhead making for a slam of sorts. We also watched big redfish chasing mullet around like they were dolphins, which was very exciting. I actually had a really good chance to cast to them at one point but of course had some very curious bystanders right in the way of my back cast.

My dad was fishing too (and took a lot of the pictures) but I was a horrible guide and failed to get him onto any fish. His fly casting was a little rusty, probably because he fly fishes on a yearly basis - that is, whenever I force him into it.

The barrier islands used to be my be all end all when it came to fishing. Lately I've been focusing on the marsh. This trip has me rethinking my focus. It was a lot of fun.

Walter the Cat

I attempted to tie some flies while watching the Red Wings game the other night.   Our new kitten was very interested.

"No you will not be tying any flies tonight," says Walter the cat.

 I see a new kind of "craft" fur in my future...

First Connection

Aaron and I got out on the boat after this work last week and finally christened it with its first fish. I've owned the boat since March, but in my defense, I would say this was just its second serious fishing outing. And to end another poor streak, I caught my first redfish since December! Yikes...

It felt great to hook up with a redfish again.  Its pure magic when you first feel the line go taut upon strip setting. For that moment when the rod is pointed straight and the fish is trying to figure out what is going on, you are literally playing tug of war, the line in your left hand. In this moment when the fish first feels the tug, the whole scene changes. I have an image in my mind of a back and tail breaching the water and showing the first signs of alarm, writhing for just a second before taking off on a run. This is the image that is seared into my mind. Not the cast, or the eat, or the fight, or the grab of the tail - although those are all good moments. The first connection is what really sticks.

Enough waxing poetically, here's the fishing report. Aaron and I poled around seeing limited signs of fish for about an hour before we finally saw an obvious crawler with Aaron on the poling platform and me on the bow.  It took me two or three fairly long casts to get it within the strike zone.

No visibility...

We switched up regularly and after moving to a nearby bayou, Aaron hooked up casting after a swirl in the channel.

Stylin'

We switched again and I had another really great chance at a crawler.  My first cast was about four feet to his left, and he ignored it.  Coming straight toward me at some speed, I struggled to strip in enough line and make an accurate shorter cast, and he escaped to deeper water. I am realizing that it is much more difficult to catch a fish coming straight toward you versus one that is swimming across your view.

Just a few moments later I hooked up with another red by blind casting into a channel, but he got off after a brief battle.

It was a beautiful evening on the bayou with plenty of action to keep us entertained. Looking forward to many more like this.

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.