It was a long summer with too much work, only a few concerted wading attempts for bluefish and stripers near my Long Island home, and with dismal success. Although I entered the water each time with great optimism, I only caught 3 porgies and one 12” bluefish all summer. I needed some kind of change, if just to boost my self confidence. Last weekend, I had the opportunity to visit New Orleans for work, so I packed up my 8 weight and called ahead to find a fly fishing guide for one day of freedom, my first attempt at redfish. After a few calls, I lined up Capt. Rich, (fishwithrich.com) a retired Marine who had relocated to the Bayou so he could fish the swamp. The weather was less than perfect. After a few downpours on the drive to Port Sulfur, the rain stopped; but the sky was quite overcast for most of the day. The glare of the overcast day made it so that we could really only see fish if they were “crawling” in the flats with their dorsal fins out of the water or if they were right below us. Casting was challenging since I was usually casting directly into the wind or with 20 knots of crosswind. Most of the time I was flicking Capt. Rich’s spoonfly with only about 2-3 feet of fly line beyond my rodtip. My accuracy in the wind was abysmal. The bayou is amazing. We cruised out near the Gulf (of Mexico) through an intricate lacework of grassy peninsulas and islands that separate a myriad of canals, channels, “ponds” and flats. Once out there, everything looks pretty similar, especially when you are focused on seeing fish in the water rather than landmarks. It was a great relief for me to know that Capt. Rich would know the way back home. I was pleased to catch my first redfish casting upwind about 15 feet. It took three frantic casts to get the spoonfly within 2-3 feet of the fish. Capt. Rich said “He took it!” so I set the hook with my rod like it was a trout and after a brief battle, the fish was in hand and pictures had been snapped. My dry spell had ended. Although it wasn’t a big fish, it was bigger than anything I had caught over the summer. The pressure was off from that point. The captain knew that I had caught my first redfish. Capt. Rich worked hard, poling me upwind into 20-25 knots of wind all day long. But it was clear that he really enjoys what he does. He loves to fish; but, he really enjoys putting someone else on the fish. He celebrated every catch that day. He poled us along grassy edges in the lee of small bushes, just so I would have some chance of casting. We saw roughly 10 redfish and 20 sheepshead during the day. At one point, we startled a huge redfish (Capt Rich said it was about 20 lb) as we poled over it in a small channel. As it swam away, it created a double “V” wake that must have been 5 inches high, indicating the fish’s massive size. I stood in awe, unable to cast. Five minutes later during a brief sunny spell, we stirred up another good size fish as we poled between two small flats. I quickly threw the spoonfly down near the fish beside the boat. The redfish turned and looked for the fly. I picked the fly up and threw it to the other side of the fish. The big red ignored the fly as it began to cruise straight ahead of the bow of the boat. I had one chance to put the fly near the fish’s path as it cruised away. I cast about 20 feet ahead laying the fly line right over the fish. It didn’t mind. I felt the tug on my line hand as the fish took the spoonfly. Determinedly, I strip-set the hook twice and felt the fish’s brawn directly in my line hand. The brief but awesome tug-o-war between my hand and this big bully was unforgettable. Then, I let the line go as the fish powered, like a locomotive, along the same tracks that it originally took from beside the boat. The slack line disappeared and the fish made my reel sing. It took me nearly to the backing. It fought like its life depended on it, yielding to within 10 feet of the boat prior to a second run that rivaled the first. Several minutes and circumnavigations of the boat later, Capt. Rich netted the big hawg. After a few moments to admire this creature and for pictures, we released the bruiser to cruise the flat that it had just muddied into a brown slurry. I couldn’t help but realize that the bayou ecosystem had recovered from last year’s Katrina…much better than many of the human communities throughout the delta and near New Orleans. First experiences leave lasting memories. I’ll never forget the whole day, my first day of sight fishing, the eager consumption of these spoonflies by redfish on the prowl, and the unbuffered, raw surge of that hawg in my first real strip-set. I think that some of what I am learning from this site is finally coming together. I’m beginning to realize the attraction of this whole other side of fly fishing (sight fishing) that I have now just begun.
aviddavid,
great fish! that is a redfish to be proud of for sure .. in addition to its impressive size, it has beautiful coloring. clean. i love the black dots on the back fin.. a fish and experience that i am sure you won’t soon forget. very well done .. and i like how you got it done even though the elements and conditions were less than ideal .. wind, no sun etc… those were the cards you were dealt .. but rather than waiting for the “perfect” day (which may never have come) .. you got out there and adjusted and improvised .. clearly it paid off .. that is a beautiful fish .. congratulations.
Congrats on your first redfish, in spite of the elements. I would love to fly fish there, it must be an unbelievable ecosystem. Glad to here you were on board with someone who wasn’t afraid to dig in with the pole and put you where you needed to be. Nice work with the pen
Wow, sightfishing redfish is not something too many fly fishermen will go out of their way to do. I wish I could have been there to see your reaction when you confirmed that it took your fly. Congrats, that fish is truly a prize, and the fact that you were able to sight fish it makes it that much better of a memory.
I have often considered fishing for Reds in the Carolinas and am going to S. Carolina soon. I’ll have to set something up while I’m down there. Great fish
, congrats
It should have a nice defense.
Congrats for that great fish in bad weather conditions.
I’m not a master in USA geography, but bayou seems a place that without a guide you get lost quickly!!
The only real landmarks are occasional houses elevated on stilts. And there is no guarantee that you can get to one just because you can see it. There may be 3-8 grassy penninsulae between it and you. I found it quite a relief to have someone who was familiar with the area aboard.
I was really excited to catch these bullies of the schoolyard (as Capt. Rich calls them) and as close the the Gulf of Mexico as we were, there is some sense that the fish are really quite fisherman-naive! So in a sense, I felt that it was much like finding native brook trout in an inaccessible area. It was a treat for me. I hope that you have a similar experience in South Carolina!
After all that i have read on your site (F&F south) I was most excited about actually putting it together enough to actually execute a strip set on the pictured fish. The whole experience was a blast and makes me want to sight fish more, although I’m not certain that I will ever become an exclusive sight fisherman. I just love the blind nymph fishing too much to give it up for good!
Whip (Dave):
Thanks for the comments. I was amazed by the expansive feel of never-endingness. I had a sense of similarity with the Everglades; but, my exposure to the everglades was more like wet grasslands (Shark Valley). The pictures of where you and Dave Tepper have fished in Florida looks more like there are substantial dense mangroves (maybe 10-12 feet tall) whereas this bayou’s tallest bushes were maybe 4-5 feet tall, much less dense and only found on occasional grassy peninsulas. I could see over the bushes from atop the platform on the flats boat. The whole feel of the bayou (at least where I was) was more expansive and exposed (especially thinking of Katrina bringing in an extra 25-30 feet of water!) Also, although birds were present, they seemed less common than I recall in the Everglades.
Dave (seems to be everyone’s name)
Jeremy:
I remember your comment about casting to albies within 5-10 feet of you at Block Island. I thought of this often while I was routinely throwing that spoonfly at my feet when we had redfish right beside the boat. I had a few takers on these short casts… but had it not been for the short casts to fish that I could see, there would have been no casts, no takes and no fish in the boat. I also wondered why I have never practiced casting to my feet?
I had only one possible day to fish and there was NO WAY that I would have said the conditions are too bad to fish. I guess that “necessity is the mother of improvisation!” Thanks for the encouragement.
Dave